March 26, 2007

APPLAUSE
by Charles R. Swindoll

Matthew 6:1-18

If a modern Rip Van Winkle were to awaken from twenty years’ slumber and stumble into today’s world, I suspect he’d be amazed. Some of the changes, even in worship, would make the old gentleman wonder about us.

Picture him sitting on a pew, connecting with God in worship. Then to his amazement, he hears folks clapping! Frowning, he feels suddenly and strangely interrupted. Why are these people applauding? Wasn’t that music an offering of praise to the One they have gathered together to worship? Isn’t silence—just the awesome sound of silence—sufficient?

Continuing to observe, he finds inconsistency in it all. Why don’t these people applaud everything? How come a singer receives applause and the one who reads Scripture never does? And why don’t they applaud the sermon?

Besides, he concludes, he prefers to do his applauding in his mind and heart.

But then, doesn’t the Bible talk about God’s people clapping their hands? Yeah, it does.  Several times in the psalms. But it also mentions shouting and dancing and groaning and playing on instruments we don’t even have today. Obviously, God doesn’t want us to be stoic and grim all the time. There have to be occasions when such spontaneous bursts are prompted by the Spirit within us. To cap off all such expressions would not only be unfair, it would be unbiblical.

Maybe, then, what these people need is to be sure that their responses in corporate worship are prompted by the Spirit and not by a small group of people who are ready to clap at anything . . . for any reason.

What I would tell our visitor is that it all has to do with the spirit of God’s truth rather than the letter of the Law. If anyone can show me from Scripture the uptight, airtight guideline for putting a stop to all spontaneous applause, I’m ready to listen. But let’s also remember that when we come together to worship we’re not an audience watching a show where entertainers expect applause.

And no offense, but I tend to agree with old Rip. I’ve never seen a group of people applaud a snowcapped mountain range or an exquisite, priceless painting or a breathtaking sunset.

Silence befits the profound, the awesome.

Think before you applaud. Is it the best way to give God your praise? Is it appropriate? Is it necessary? Would silence be better?

Taken from Charles R. Swindoll, Day by Day with Charles Swindoll (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2000). Copyright © 2000 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved.

March 23, 1743 George Frideric Handel's oratorio ''Messiah'' had its London premiere. The first performance of "The Messiah" was at a charity concert in Dublin. It got great reviews, but Handel wasn't satisfied with it, and spent almost another year revising parts of the score. It finally had its London premiere, in the audience of the king, on this day in 1743, and it was a great success.

During the famous Hallelujah Chorus, King George II was so moved by the music that he involuntarily stood up from his seat. The audience, out of respect for the king, also stood up. Ever since, it has been a tradition that the audience rises during the singing of the Hallelujah Chorus.

GLORY BEYOND THE GRIND
by Charles R. Swindoll

Exodus 15:2

Even though the song was composed before I was born (which makes it a real oldie), I often find myself humming it in the shower at the beginning of a busy day, between appointments and assignments in the middle of a hectic day, and on the road home at the end of a tiring day. Somehow it adds a soothing touch of oil to the grind: “Without a song the day would never end . . . without a song. . . .”

True, isn’t it? The right combination of words and melody seldom fails to work its magic. And given the pressures and demands we are forced to cope with on a daily basis, we could use a little magic.

The homemaker with children at her feet who faces fourteen or more hours a day in the grind of an endless list of chores. The professional who deals with the grind of people, people, people. The truck driver who heads into the grind of traffic snarls and monotonous miles. The athlete who lives with the grind of unending hours of practice. Students and faculty who face the cynical grind of daily preparation and assignments, exams and papers.

Fact is, no matter who you are or what you do, the grind ain’t gonna go away! The sales person has quotas. The performer has rehearsals. The therapist can’t escape one depressed soul after another. The preacher is never free of sermon preparation. The broadcaster cannot get away from the clock any more than the military person can escape the hassle of red tape. Days don’t end . . . roads don’t bend . . . help!

The question is, how do we live beyond the daily grind? The answer is, a song. But not just any song! Certainly not some mindless, earsplitting tune yelled into a microphone. No, not that. I have in mind some songs that are really old. We’re talking ancient here. In fact, they are the ones inspired and composed by our creator God. They’re called psalms.

These are the timeless songs that have yielded delicious fruit in every generation. Not silly ditties, but strong melodious messages specially designed to help us live beyond the grind. That’s right, beyond it. “We’ll get along as long as a psalm is strong in our souls.”

Those age-old compositions drip with the oil of glory that enables us to live beyond the grind. Songs of victory, affirmation, and encouragement, of confidence-giving strength, of hope, of compassion.

Without God’s song in our soul, our long days will never end and those wearisome roads will never bend.

God’s Book is full of songs—150 of them. Let’s sing them frequently and allow their time-tested lyrics to oil our days.

Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Day by Day with Charles Swindoll (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2000). Copyright © 2000 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved.

RESTORING COMPASSION
by Charles R. Swindoll

Matthew 25:34-36

As one understanding soul expressed it: “Compassion is not a snob gone slumming. It’s a real trip down inside the broken heart of a friend. It’s feeling the sob of the soul. It’s sitting down and silently weeping with your soul-crushed neighbor.”

Parceling out this kind of compassion will elicit no whistles or loud applause. In fact, the best acts of compassion will never be known to the masses. Nor will fat sums of money be dumped into your lap because you are committed to being helpful. Normally, acts of mercy are done in obscurity with no thought (or receipt) of monetary gain.

Compassion usually calls for a willingness to humbly spend oneself in obscurity on behalf of unknowns. How few there are in our fast-paced, get-rich-quick society who say to such a task, “Here am I, use me.” Truly compassionate people are often hard to understand. They take risks most people would never take. They give away what most people would cling to. They reach out and touch when most would hold back with folded arms. Their caring brings them up close where they feel the other person’s pain and do whatever is necessary to demonstrate true concern.

If God’s people are to be living examples of one thing, that thing ought
to be—it must be—compassion.

Taken from Charles R. Swindoll, Day by Day with Charles Swindoll (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2000). Copyright © 2000 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved.