And God said, “Let there be music!”
And there was.

Simple melodies and syncopated rhythms.
The haunting sounds of windblown reeds,
of hollowed gourds and hand carved flutes
and hammered coconuts.
The drab dark shadowed earth
made bleak by disobedience
was brightened by the sound of music
and the downbeat of grace
as willing voices could be heard
singing the lyrics of praise.

Praise of the Creator.
Praise of His creation.
Praise of His salvation.

God’s people (with harps in their hands)
became known by their music.
Melodies and harmonies,
refrains and rhythms
that emanated from their lips and lyres.

Long before Gregorian chanting monks
in monastaries
haunted Heaven with their hymns
or sledge hammer totin’ slaves
sung of sweet chariots swinging down low
or Swedish believers strummed guitars
in home fellowship gatherings
(reminding each other they were
children of their Heavenly Father)
or George Beverly Shea insisted
he’d rather have Jesus
or Bill and Gloria Gaither
and their homecoming friends
called attention to the fact that the King is coming
or men bent on keeping promises
(or women of faith determined to walk their talk)
lifted their voices in sports stadiums or arenas
to the deafening sounds of amplified worship band…

Long before all these expressions
God’s people were already labeled as
singers of songs and makers of music.
Some might say they have always been known as
redemption’s choir or the soundtrack of hope.