Home : The Voice : August 2002 

Church Music

by Bob Millard

‘The Lord is My Shepherd,’
or Scripture isn’t dance lessons

He was a handsome young man. He was a troubled young man; each fact as obvious as the other when he greeted us at the door to his home-for-sale. I was a starting out Realtor working with some of my very first customers. Their idea of fun was having me schlep them all over the county to see eight houses a day, and blaming me for wasting their time when they found fault with them all.

That explains why they were wandering the house by themselves while I took the sad young man’s offer of a coffee in the kitchen. Centered neatly on a straw placemat at the captain’s chair was a large concordance Bible, open to the Psalms – a sure sign of emotional distress. When I made that observation, he launched into his life’s story.

“My wife took our daughter and moved back to Atlanta,” he said, staring out the window on a day of gloomy cloud cover. “I don’t understand what the problem is, I’ve kept my promises as a husband and father.”

That’s when I noticed his Promise Keeper’s certificate on the refrigerator. You’re lucky she didn’t put a pillow over your head while you were sleeping, I thought, but I said nothing.

“I sat here all morning reading my Bible,” he said. “Did you know if you trust in the Lord and let the Bible fall open, He will lead your eye to exactly the verse you need to read?”

This was news to me.

As Christians, we are heirs to God’s promise to Abraham, roughly: believe in me, do my will, and I will make of your lineage a light to all nations. All nations in this context meant Gentiles. Jesus Christ is that light unto all nations; God kept his promise.

God’s promise under the New Covenant is eternal life, connected to God through Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. And, I think, as heirs to God’s promise we participate in the life eternal in life here and now, to the extent that we are faithful to our end of the bargain.

Our associate pastor recently preached on God’s Promise. Jesus didn’t come to bring peace, not even to families; “He who loves father and mother more than me is not worthy of me…” (Matt. 10:37). I imagine that goes for spouses, too, but it was obvious that whatever promise the sad young man had made his family didn’t sit well with them.

Sticking my nose where it didn’t belong, I asked had he considered whether the role his Promise Keepers program imposed on a bright, competent professional woman, as was his estranged wife, might be man’s desire to use scripture like it was mail-order dance lessons. Tape the foot movement chart on the floor, follow it without variation and voilà, you’re doing the cha-cha.

He didn’t see it that way.

It’s easier to read Psalms than wonder whether by putting too much emphasis on a single truth you have turned it into a lie. Believe me, I’ve done it.

As we finished our coffee, I heard my house-hunters griping their way up from the basement.

Soon, we all went on with our lives, but the sad young man stayed in the back of my mind.

God is good to his Word; he keeps his promise even when we reject it because we want to go our own way. God’s promise leads us on a narrow road, but it’s still not a cha-cha chart. With the best intentions, we can take the wrong fork in that road. Grace, mercy and forgiveness are crucial road maps The sin you forgive someone else for may later turn out to have been your sin, after all.

But, getting back to Psalms and the concept of the drop-Bible method of scripture study: verily, verily, I say unto you: a Bible, like any book, is liable to fall open somewhere in the middle, which is where Psalms is.

When you are downhearted, it’s a good bet you’ll find solace there, somewhere. Maybe God knew some people would cook up a superstition like the drop-open gambit. Maybe that’s why the canon lines up like it does, with so much solace in the middle.

I still say it’s tempting God to do magic tricks when a little hard work on your own part would suffice. Citing scripture, Satan told Jesus to throw himself off a high place to put God’s promise to protect him to the test, too.

Read your Bible in faith, and surely God will direct your steps. But, let the book fall open where it may and there’s no telling what message you’ll get. I tried it not long ago.

In a time of despair, I picked up a Bible, placed it in my lap and let it flop. I was in a dark mood; nothing was going right for me; not even half-right. What could it hurt? The book fell open and my eye lit on Job 10:1 of all places.

I shook my head for a moment then called a friend. “Man, you know you’re in the toilet when you drop open your Bible for help in a time of trouble and you land on Job 10:1, which begins, “I loathe my life…”

Call it gallows humor, but we got a laugh out of that. Maybe that was my destined solace – to find a good laugh in my own despair.

The older I get, and the farther I proceed in my life as a sinner claiming God’s grace and hoping to get it right, the more I realize the wisdom of my talented old friend Mark Germino’s song, “God Ain’t No Stained Glass Window”. His first line: “There’s so much I don’t know.”