HEAD(hed), (n.) 1. the top part of the human body or the front part of an animal where the eyes, nose, east and mouth are. "Your brain is in your head." DIBS(dibz), (n.) 2. a thick, sweet syrup made in countries of the East, especially the Middle East, from grape juice or dates. [Arabic "debs"]--World Book Dictionary, 1976.
Actually, it’s an ad-duck-tion. I missed the perfect opportunity to say, “and they’re in a row, too!” Silly goose.
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A Song From An Overflowing Heart (Day 1)
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Ever had one of those moments when you found yourself scrambling for paper and pen because something came to mind you did not want to forget? Not just any “something” but you needed to capture a thought that excited you so terribly that perhaps in your fervor to “get it down” you raised a curious alarm to those around you? “Just give me something!” you scream as you frantically try not lose the light of the epiphany. That’s the scenario that comes to mind when I read, “My heart overflows with a pleasing theme; I address my verses to the king; my tongue is like the pen of a ready scribe.” (Psalm 45:1)
Who is this scribe? What verses are about to burst from his heart? All the words are on the tip of his tongue and he must get them down lest he swallow them by accident!
First understand that this song is a “maskil”, the Hebrew word describing one of those songs that gets stuck in your head and won’t leave. It’s a song that makes you think because there is wisdom hidden within. If you pay attention and listen--really listen--the song will work it’s way into your heart. A simple definition is, “ponder” or “contemplate.” Might seem strange to use a song as a teaching tool, but’s really not. We teach children the A,B,C’s with song or communicate moral principles with songs like Tim McGraw’s “Humble and Kind.”
You get the idea. That’s what Psalm 45 is all about--something to think about--but “what”?
The beauty of Hebrew poetry is that most often we are told who wrote the song, who the song was intended for, and in most cases, the very tune to which the song is played. This one is a “Lilly” song, a song of love. Over the course of time, we’ve lost exactly what that tune is, but if we are told it’s a love song and it sounds like “Lillies” then we can imagine it must be a song that lifts a fragrant aroma of love, which is appropriate knowing there’s mention of a bride and groom in the lyrics. A celebration of love! Here's a contemporary performance that captures the spirit:
The “sons of Korah” wrote this song for “the choirmaster.” The sons of Korah were descendants of Korah (lived during the time of Moses) and were mostly musicians, passing the talent down from generation to generation. This song was written for lead singers, basically. Speaking more broadly, the song is written for anyone in a leadership position. So listen up.
We’ll spend the rest of the month (hopefully) studying, pondering, contemplating this love song, letting it work it’s way from the page, into our head to into our heart. And maybe, just maybe, fall in love too.
July 2004 I went to Kenya, Africa to speak in two Pastor’s Conferences on the subject of Man, Sin and Salvation. At the end of each day I left just over an hour for questions (half the time were questions touching the subject of my lectures, and the other half for “open questions”; that is, people could ask anything). For the next few weeks, I will be sharing the questions that were asked of me, and my answers—and believe me when I say these people really know how to think! Question from Kenya #1: “Men and women who saw God in the Bible: Why did they not all die?” [“ But He said, ‘You cannot see My face, for no man can see Me and live! ’” (Exodus 33:20) was the basis of the student’s question]. Answer: First, consider those who did see God—how did they respond when they saw Him? They were instantly aware of their sinfulness, and God’s holiness and righteousness (to name a few. And notice also that each responded in an attitude of worship, bowing down): Abraham built altars, wors
“My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee, Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn, Besides their other flames? Doth poetry Wear Venus' livery? only serve her turn? Why are not sonnets made of thee? and lays Upon thine altar burnt? Cannot thy love Heighten a spirit to sound out thy praise As well as any she? Cannot thy Dove Outstrip their Cupid easily in flight? Or, since thy ways are deep, and still the fame, Will not a verse run smooth that bears thy name! Why doth that fire, which by thy power and might Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose Than that, which one day, worms may chance refuse. Sure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry Oceans of ink; for, as the Deluge did Cover the earth, so doth thy Majesty: Each cloud distills thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use. Roses and lilies speak thee; and to make A pair of cheeks of them, is thy abuse Why should I women's eyes for crystal take? Such poor invention burns in their low mind Wh
“In primitive times, when man awakes in a world that is newly created, poetry awakes with him. In the face of the marvellous things that dazzle and intoxicate him, his first speech is a hymn simply. He is still so close to God that all his meditations are ecstatic, all his dreams are visions. His bosom swells, he sings as he breathes. His lyre has but three strings—God, the soul, creation; but this threefold mystery envelopes everything, this threefold idea embraces everything. The earth is still almost deserted. . . . He leads that nomadic pastoral life with which all civilizations begin, and which is so well adapted to solitary contemplation, to fanciful reverie. He follows every suggestion, he goes hither and thither, at random. His thought, like his life, resembles a cloud that changes its shape and its direction according to the wind that drives it. Such is the first man, such is the first poet. He is young, he is cynical. Prayer is his sole religion, the ode is his only form of