It happened while we were singing a hymn, "I Am a Child of God." The song was upbeat and easy to sing even though I was not familiar with it. It is an old song (1907) by Barney Warren, an Anderson Church of God hymn writer. We were singing the third verse followed by a refrain:
3. "Let the saints rejoice with my raptured spirit. I am a child of God; I will testify that the world may hear it. I am a child of God."
Refrain: "I am a child of God; I am a child of God. I have washed my robes in the cleansing fountain. I am a child of God."
I suddenly realized that I was singing a song that could not be sung alone. Maybe it was the words, "Let the saints rejoice," or maybe it was the tune or the atmosphere, but I felt I had to sing to someone AND have someone sing to me. I needed to connect with other folks who were traveling my journey.
So, while singing, I turned my head and looked at others, most of whom I did not know. I glanced across the aisle and over my shoulder. Strangely, others seemed to be scanning the congregants hoping to link with something beyond the immediate and the obvious. Several of us, while still singing, made eye contact and smiled; a few of us nodded like long-time friends who shared an inside joke.
I turned to face the pulpit, and I noticed leaders on the platform had turned from their altar-facing seats and were singing to the congregation. Everyone's head and hymnal seemed to be lifted.
Then it was over, but not too soon. In fact, its value was partly in its appearing unexpectedly and its vanishing suddenly.
But, what was it? What happened? I don't know. I do believe it had something to do with being part of the church--you know, that body of Christ thing. It reminded me of days when I was more part of a congregation than I am now. As we finished the hymn, I thought, "It has been a long time since I sang a song that made me look."
I suspect many of us often do not feel the need to look. Maybe it is the songs we sing, or possibly we do not understand our being part of a redeemed and being-redeemed community. I wonder if we are overlooking our call to encourage and to be encouraged by one another. Maybe we aren't grasping how important a look can be.
I am going to be more aware of a God-whisper urging me to look and smile (and sometimes nod) while we all sing songs of the Kingdom. I need to sing to others and have others sing to me. I suspect they need it, too.
