Made to Sing

Sermon on the 13th Sunday after Pentecost
August 18, 2024
See Ephesians 5:15-20

To our Almighty Maker, God,
new honors be addressed;
his great salvation shines abroad,
and makes the nations blessed.

That was a version of Psalm 98. I would imagine that none of you think you know that song, though if I’d sung it to you, you’d probably recognize it. Those words were written in the early 1700’s by Isaac Watts. The hymnal in question was called The Book of Psalms Imitated in the Language of the New Testament.

This book was a new approach to church music. Up until this point, most English-speaking churches stuck to the psalms. Reformed churches (including Congregational and Presbyterian churches) adapted the psalms to make them easier to sing to familiar tunes. But Isaac Watts took it a step further. He adapted the words of the psalms to make them more Christian. Since Watts was a Congregationalist, we still sing some of his hymns. One of his most popular—probably the second most popular—is Our God, Our Help in Ages Past—a paraphrase of the 90th Psalm.

Which brings me back to the words I began my sermon with—the one you didn’t even recognize, even though they’re part of the most popular Isaac Watts song that we know. In fact, it’s such a popular song, that every person in this sanctuary could sing at least the first stanza by heart. The psalm, as Watts adapted it, has 8 stanzas. And though stanzas one through four have mostly been forgotten, stanzas five through eight are remembered and loved. Here’s the fifth stanza:

Joy to the world! the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King;
let ev'ry heart prepare him room,
and heav'n and nature sing.

Though our ancestors in the faith sang mostly psalms, we’ve pretty much lost the tradition. The Christmas carol Joy to the World is, in fact, one of the last vestiges of a practice we should’ve been maintaining all along.

When Paul gave the Ephesians the prescription of singing “psalms and hymns and spiritual songs” to cure the troubles that surrounded them, psalms came first because that’s probably the music they were most accustomed to. Jews had sung them for maybe a thousand years, and Christians then maintained the tradition. In fact, many Christians still do.

Next in line came hymns—the kind of church music we’re much more accustomed to. Though there are a few psalms interspersed throughout our hymnal, mostly we have hymns. They may make a few references to scripture, but mostly they’re the thoughts, feelings, and opinions of the poets and theologians who wrote them. That doesn’t mean they’re wrong or that we shouldn’t sing them. But it does make them different than the psalms.

And finally, there are spiritual songs. To us, I think this might have two meanings. First are the praise choruses that seem so popular these days. These are often repetitive and pretty shallow. They’re intended to “warm up” the congregation to welcome a cool pastor not to the pulpit, but to the stage.

Or, spiritual songs might refer to what we call spirituals—songs born out of the struggles of enslaved people whose understanding of salvation and liberation was beyond the imaginings of most of the people in this room. Regardless of our ethnic background, we still know and sing some of these. And interestingly enough, one of the ones we know best is a Christmas song. The one I’m thinking of is called Go, Tell It on the Mountain.

It's interesting to think about the definitions of these terms, psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. But getting bogged down in the details probably isn’t what Paul intended when he wrote those words to the Ephesians. So let’s look at today’s reading. In case you’ve forgotten, here’s a brief synopsis:

Paul warns his readers that the times are evil and so he recommends the path of wisdom and knowledge of God. If they’re going to be under the influence of anything, then let it be the Holy Spirit. And how might that divine influence manifest itself? Through hearts filled with music and gratitude.

Perhaps the references to evil and debauchery caught your attention in that reading. But I also hope God’s answer to both of them made you perk up your ears as well. Music and gratitude are indeed the antidote to the negativity we come up against in the world.

Music is often thought of as entertainment. Though I guess we in the church know it goes beyond that. Between word and melody, we can be brought to tears or moved with joy—often at the same time. But even beyond church music, I think we can see that music is more than entertainment. Music defines eras. Music defines cultures. Some would even say that music is one of God’s greatest gifts.

I remember a song from about fifty years ago. I certainly didn’t give it the credit it was due back then. It was by Barry Manilow, and it was called I Write the Songs. One of the reasons I didn’t appreciate it, I suppose, was because my young mind didn’t really understand what it was about:

I've been alive forever, and I wrote the very first song.
I put the words and the melodies together.
I am music, and I write the songs.

This song isn’t scripture. But it speaks to our souls about how deeply connected God and music are. Just as the trees of the field lift up their Creator by waving their branches and the ocean worships God through its crashing waves, so we were made to sing. Music is our prayer and praise. And in Ephesians 5, Paul seems to think of music as a cure for debauchery.

I looked up the roots of that word, and it comes from an old French word that means to tempt someone away from doing their duty. And so the psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs that Paul talks about are what get us back on track. They call us back to God and help our minds focus on what’s important.

Sometimes the temptation is strong. But one Christian’s song can call another Christian away from whatever is distracting them, whatever is taking their minds off God. That’s one of the main reasons we need each other. It might be possible to be a solitary person of faith. But our need for others makes being a Lone Ranger Christian very difficult: The song in our hearts longs to be part of the chorus of heaven.

And music leads also to gratitude. It’s almost impossible not to want to share a song. Now, songs aren’t always joyful, or happy-go-lucky. Those African American spirituals I talked about earlier, for example, were often songs that expressed a pain that few of us can comprehend. But the fact that they were being shared helped those who sang them know that they weren’t alone. And they invited others to share in a hope for a better world. But whether they’re songs of joy or songs of pain, songs about love or songs about justice, songs are meant for sharing.

And sharing generates gratitude. A heart filled with song is a heart that worships its Creator; it’s a heart that knows its purpose. We sometimes think that we need time away to ponder the questions of life; we need to study what the great theologians and philosophers have to say. Then and only then will we have the luxury of understanding our calling.

But when a song wells up in our hearts—even a song we sing silently—then we can appreciate who God is and why we’re here. We also know how to connect with others, and we understand gratitude. For how can we sing God’s power and God’s goodness and fail to believe that the God who created all this is listening, and that God cares.
—©2024 Sam Greening