The other evening my husband wanted
to show me a flash mob on YouTube. We ended up watching at least twenty in
different cities around the globe, including tango dancers in Budapest and
swing and Charleston dancers…somewhere else.
Dancin' in Denver, November 2011 |
This is a great one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=87qT5BOl2XU. My sketchy research suggests "Ode to Joy" is the favorite of flash mobs globally.
In Minneapolis in November 2015 |
One symphonic performance started
with a young girl playing a phrase on a simple wooden flute to a man who echoed
her notes on a bass. Slowly, casually, other instrumentalists wandered over
until a full orchestra shared Beethoven’s joy.
When the music ended, performers
dispersed as if nothing special had happened.
Meanwhile, a line from a hymn kept
tapping my shoulder and whispering in my ear, a line from “All Hall the Power
of Jesus’ Name.”
O that with yonder
sacred throng
we at His feet may fall!
We'll join the everlasting song,
and crown Him Lord of all.
We'll join the everlasting song,
and crown Him Lord of all.
we at His feet may fall!
We'll join the everlasting song,
and crown Him Lord of all.
We'll join the everlasting song,
and crown Him Lord of all.
It turns out there are several more
verses to the hymn that I’ve never sung, and alternate wording to verses I have
sung. For example, one version substitutes “all the sacred throng” for “yonder
sacred throng.” No way! I will never give up “yonder” to sing “all the.” How
boring! I will continue to honor the ancient, venerable words.
But anyway, as I delighted in the
flash mobs, and my husband and I wistfully agreed we wished to participate in one,
I thought about Heaven and the everlasting song. When I get to Heaven, I expect
to find yonder sacred throng of people already singing songs of praise to
Jesus, like a flash mob at a huge mall. And I’m going to run—not slowly or
casually—to join them. Will I have my ukulele? I don’t know. Will I have
learned to play Ray’s accordion? I don’t know. Will I wait for the next verse
to start before finding the Alto I part? I don’t know. Will my soprano range be
restored? I don’t know. I can only imagine.
The crowd singing the everlasting
song will never disperse, if another old hymn tells the truth.
When we’ve been there ten
thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we first begun.
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we first begun.
And another hymn exclaims,
What
a day that will be,
When my Jesus I shall see,
And I look upon His face,
The One who saved me by His grace;
When He takes me by the hand,
And leads me through the Promised Land,
What a day, glorious day that will be.
When my Jesus I shall see,
And I look upon His face,
The One who saved me by His grace;
When He takes me by the hand,
And leads me through the Promised Land,
What a day, glorious day that will be.
Yes! What. A. Day.
Until that day, I’ll keep singing
with my church family. And with my school family. And with Don and Dave in the
morning on the car radio. And with the Mad Dog Baptist Choir. And often with only
my ukulele and God.
And if you’re organizing a flash
mob, text me.
If there are ukuleles in Heaven, they will always be in tune. |