Lessons from Fourth Grade Choir...

When I was in fourth grade, I was in the choir. We wore these hideous light blue vests that had a giant monogrammed script "F" on the front, for "Fairbrook" which was the name of my elementary school. In the white suburbs in Ohio, they don't name their schools after people: they name them as though they're luxury gated communities, I guess. Parkwood. Valley. Resting Meadows.

But that's beside the point. When I was in fourth grade, Mrs. Owens had us sing a variety of songs, many of which had a distinctively Jewish flair. This is strange because I'm pretty sure I didn't know anyone who was Jewish. But still, every Christmas, there all 80 of us were, on metal risers, singing our little hearts out about "spinning the dreidle" and "lighting the menorah" in that old classic song, "Hanukah Holiday: Festival of Lights."

We also sang this song about Joshua. It was called "Joshua Fought the Battle of Jericho." Here's how it went:

Joshua fought the battle of Jericho.
Jericho.
Jer-i-cho-ooh
Joshua fought the battle of Jericho
and the walls came tumbling down
down-down-down

It still kind of creeps me out that I remember this so well. I also remember the time during the Winter Concert in fourth grade when this one girl on the back riser was ill and turned around and chucked all over the cafeteria/gym/auditorium floor. The smell made two other people puke, too. Then the janitor came over and threw what appeared to be kitty litter all over the mess.

Anyway, what's my point. My point is that although we sang about that song, I never really thought about the implications. I always thought that it was some weird miracle - trumpets and walls don't seem connected to me. God basically said, "Blow on the trumpets and the city will be rendered powerless militaristically." God might as well have said, "Play a pan flute and the water supply will be shut off" or "Three blasts on a trombone, and their currency will be worthless."

And my God, man, don't even pretend to play a banjo. Do you want to see a bunch of dead cats? Do you? Do you?

Then I read somewhere that archeologists discovered that the walls really did fall down. Now I can't attest to the historical or archeological evidence of this, but it's interesting to me that the walls crumbled down on themselves. It's consistent with an earthquake, most scholars say.

Or a giant seismic blast.

What if....

What if God used the trumpet sound, magnified it like 1000 times, and hit the walls of Jericho with a giant sound wave that entirely destroyed the structural integrity of the walls. I think that would be cool, if that's what God did. God often seems to do that kind of thing, doesn't He? He takes what we give -meager as it is - and amplifies it supernaturally. That way, we feel as though we're part of the story. We did something to help.

I feel that way a lot with my sermons. I just kind of put them out there and pray that God will amplify them to break down the walls of people's hearts. It's certainly nothing I can do. I could blow as hard as I want on that trumpet, but if God doesn't do something massive and seismic, I'm just Dizzy Gillespie vs. the Army. And in the paper-scissors-rock world of armed conflict, foot soldiers beat Jazz Musicians.

I've been learning to pray for this kind of thing a lot more. The idea is that if God's not really in it, then it's kind of a waste of everybody's time. Last night, at our First Wednesday meeting, I kind of felt that way. Our dance team danced to the song "Held" by Natalie Grant, which is a gorgeous and moving song, but these women - all of the strikingly beautiful and graceful - did the most amazing job I have ever seen. While they were doing the tech run through before the service, everyone just stood around and wept. Camera people. Sound guys. Ushers. Me. Todd. Tony. The dancers themselves. Just crying our eyes out. It was one of those God moments. And it was probably the best thing I've ever seen artistically in a church. And I'm not exaggerating.

As soon as I get video of it, I'll post it.

It's the kind of thing that crumbles walls. Which is kind of what God is all about.