A friend invited me to attend a Spring revival service with him. He drove me to a remote part of Southern Greenville County to the New Jerusalem Baptist Church. My friend, a successful businessman, had arranged for a guest preacher from New York City, Dr. Bill Jones, to lead these services. Midway through the service, my friend also brought a brief message to the congregation, a kind of warmup before the main event. But what I remember best about that service was not the preaching, as good as it was. I remember a solo. I was seated near the baby grand piano with a clear view of the keyboard, the perfect place to see and hear the unique way this song unfolded.
Every
effective solo is a kind of dance shared by the singer and an accompanist. They work together to make their shared dream
for the song a reality. You’ve probably
witnessed a time or two when one of these musical dancers stepped all over the
other one’s toes. In the churches I’ve
served, the accompanist leads the dance, especially at the beginning. The notes played set the key and the tempo of
the music. The singer joins the song,
somewhat, on the musician’s terms.
But that’s
not what happened at New Jerusalem. A
little lady, not much more than five feet tall, stood to her feet in the choir
loft and, without accompaniment, began to sing.
Though not yet playing a note, the pianist’s attention was laser-focused
on what this woman was singing. He was
listening more intently than anyone else in the church. Then, very lightly, with one finger, he
touched a key on the piano, then another, then another, until he found the key
in which she was singing. Then, very
gradually, he added notes, low and high, chords, major and minor, until the
music he played matched and magnified the song she was singing. Her song led the dance. He found her song and joined it.
That is
what God wants to happen when we pray.
Too often, we come to God with our agenda, our wants, our needs, our
dreams mapped out like the notes on a page of music. We sound the first notes. We choose the spirit and the rhythm of our
conversation and communion with God.
And, naively, we wait for God to join us on our terms. But that’s not biblical prayer. That’s backwards.
Authentic
prayer, prayer that honors God’s purpose, is like a solo at the New Jerusalem Baptist
Church during spring revival. God begins
the song. He leads the dance. He reveals to us the spirit, the purpose, the
mission, the calling in which He creates and calls His people to live. Our part, at first, is to listen, to focus
our hearts and minds upon the music God is making until we truly hear it in the
marrow of our bones. Then, and only
then, we touch a note, here and there, and test it to see if it is in unity and
harmony with the music God is making. If
it’s not, we listen again, and try again.
If it is, we build upon it, we use every gift, every opportunity, every
relationship, every joy, every passion to match and magnify the song God has
been singing since before the foundation of the world. We pray so we can hear God’s song, discern
it, and join it. That’s why we
pray.