37. Devotional: God's Music Lesson

God's Music Lesson

by George Matheson 

And no man could learn that song but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth. (Revelation 14:3)

    There are songs which can only be learned in the valley. No art can teach them; no master of music can convey them; no rules of voice can make them perfectly sung. Their music is in the heart. They are songs of memory, of personal experience. They bring out their burden from the shadows of the past; they mount on the wings of yesterday. What race that never felt the pains of exile could sing that old Scottish song, "Oh why left I my hame!" It could only come from the memory of storm and stress driving the wanderer across many a sea.

    St. John says that even in heaven there will be a song that can only be fully sung by the sons of earth—the strain of redemption. Doubtless it is a song of triumph—a hymn of victory to the Christ who has made us free. But the sense of triumph must come from the memory ot the chain. No angel, no archangel, can sing it so sweetly as my soul. To sing it as I sing it they must pass through my exile, and this they cannot do. None can learn it but the children of the Cross.   

    And so, my soul, thou art receiving a music lesson from thy Father. Thou art being educated for the choir invisible. There are parts of the symphony that none can take but thee. There are chords too minor for the angels. There may be heights in the symphony which are beyond thy scale—heights which the angels alone can reach. But there are depths which belong to thee, and can only be touched by thee. Thy Father is training thee for the part the angels cannot sing ; and the school is sorrow. I have heard men say that He sends thy sorrow to prove thee; nay, He sends thy sorrow to educate thee, to train thee for the choir invisible.   

    In the night He is preparing thy song. In the valley He is tuning thy voice. In the cloud He is deepening thy chords. In the storm He is enriching thy pathos. In the rain He is sweetening thy melody. In the cold He is moulding thine expression. In the transition from hope to fear He is perfecting thy lights and shades. Despise not thy school of sorrow, O my soul; it will give thee a unique part in the universal song.