15

What Role for Praise?

Relax: This is not going to be one of those glib and superficial pep talks that says, “Just praise the Lord, and all your problems will melt away!” When life spins out of control, it takes more than a few magic words to stabilize the situation.

If we truly believe that God is real, however—that he is good-hearted and loving and mindful of our trial—those facts endure apart from what we are going through. Whether the sun is shining on our circumstances or not, whether everybody likes us or hates us, whether we have plenty of food and money or none at all—God is still God. He never changes.

The bedrock fact that he is always “on duty” is of tremendous value. You may feel like thanking him for that anchorage in your otherwise storm-tossed life. In so doing, you participate in praise.

One of the oddest things that happened to Martin and me in the jungle occurred the day our group was on the trail and stopped to rest at a little farmhouse. The occupants had fled, as was common. The Abu Sayyaf rushed us inside so that any civilians who might come along wouldn’t see us. Meanwhile, our captors started fires for cooking rice and sat around talking outside.

All of a sudden as we waited, through the bamboo walls we heard someone humming a verse of “How Great Thou Art”! Martin and I looked at each other in amazement. The song kept going for a while, and then faded away.

We could not resist the urge to finish the song very quietly: “Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee: How great thou art, how great thou art. . . .”[11]

I doubt that the captors outside heard us. Nothing was ever said. But in our hearts, we were truly worshiping right there in the jungle. We were reminded of God’s greatness—which had not diminished at all despite our circumstances.

“How in the world does a Muslim know that song?” I asked when we finished.

Martin reminded me that Christian missionaries had worked for many years even here in the southern Philippines, sharing the gospel and planting churches. Mindanao and the smaller islands were especially influenced by the Christian and Missionary Alliance denomination. Some of the Abu Sayyaf, they had told us, had attended C&MA churches when they were younger. Even though the siren call of militant Islam had eventually pulled them away, they still remembered some of the music.

“How Great Thou Art” became, in some ways, our anthem as hostages. I told in my first book about teaching Angie the words so she and Fe and I could sing it as a trio. Its words in the second verse, “When through the woods and forest glades I wander,” were especially apropos.

Martin would listen and then say to me, “You know, Gracia, maybe God has us here simply to praise him in this dark place.”

*   *

The book of Acts tells about a dreadful night that Paul and Silas spent in prison in Philippi. They had tried to bring the light of the gospel to this “major city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony” (Acts 16:12). When they confronted the power of demons in a young slave girl and set her free through the superior power of God, the town went crazy. Paul and Silas were promptly dragged before a judge, who had them stripped of their clothing, severely beaten, and thrown into the maximum-security ward of the city jail.

I’m sure you know the story of what happened a few hours later. Instead of sinking into self-pity and depression or fuming with rage about the blatant injustice they had suffered, the two men began “praying and singing hymns to God” (Acts 16:25). They released the power of musical praise in the middle of a dark night. They affirmed what they knew to be true, despite all indications to the contrary.

And God showed up! A strong earthquake rattled the city at just that moment. The prison building heaved and shuddered. Its doors swung open. The chains that anchored Paul and Silas to the wall clattered loose. Incarceration became emancipation in a matter of seconds.

The whole situation changed dramatically. The warden, fearing that he would be blamed for all the chaos, came close to committing suicide, until Paul stopped him. Before the sun came up the next morning, the man “and his entire household rejoiced because they all believed in God” (Acts 16:34). A few hours later, the court officials were embarrassedly coaxing the two missionaries to step out into the sunshine and go on their way.

I am not claiming that the praise of Paul and Silas directly triggered the earthquake. But I do believe it is fair to say that affirming the goodness and power of God is always appropriate. It tells God that we have not lost our bearings. We still know who is ultimately in charge of the world. And we invite his intervention in the midst of our trauma.

When stress arises in our life, I can think of nothing better than to praise the Lord for his reliability, for his strength, for his ability to work on our behalf. This is not manipulation; this is just stating the facts. Don’t be surprised if he shows up in your personal prison to start throwing timbers around and snapping leg-irons open. He is, after all, the God of “Let my people go!” Freedom is a part of his nature.

*   *

I love the perspective of King Jehoshaphat when he was threatened by a massive coalition of invading armies in the 850s BC. He was in a terrible jam. The clouds of war were thundering overhead. In front of the entire nation, he prayed aloud, “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you” (2 Chronicles 20:12, NIV).

That sense of focus on the Lord instead of the environment evoked a dramatic prophecy from a Levite named Jahaziel, encouraging everyone who heard it. Early the next morning, the king embarked on the strangest, most upside-down tactical strategy in the annals of warfare.

The king appointed singers to walk ahead of the army, singing to the LORD and praising him for his holy splendor. This is what they sang:

“Give thanks to the LORD;

his faithful love endures forever!”

(2 Chronicles 20:21)

As you read this story, you are certain that the next thing that happened was an awful bloodbath. Surely the floating melodies of the vanguard singers were about to turn into screams of agony as the enemy swords flashed and slashed in the sunlight.

But that is not what occurred.

Inexplicably, the opposing armies began fighting among themselves. One faction took on another, while the third faction jumped on both of them. By the time Jehoshaphat’s “choir” and infantry got to an overlook point in the terrain, “there were dead bodies lying on the ground for as far as they could see. Not a single one of the enemy had escaped” (2 Chronicles 20:24). There was no battle left for the Israelites to fight.

I don’t understand that at all. It defies all military logic. It is definitely a “God thing.” It shows the almighty Lord intervening on behalf of those who concentrate on him and his mighty character.

The valley where they collected all the plunder—a job that required three days—received a new name that week. On maps of the Holy Land it became known as the Valley of Beracah, a Hebrew word that means “blessing” or “praise.” With a different strategy, this could have become a valley of slaughter. The exaltation of God made all the difference.

In the battles of our life, when we face overwhelming threats to life and limb, it is always good to praise the Lord. It states a higher reality than what we see with our natural eyes. It affirms our place in the hands of a loving and strong heavenly Father, who will never stop caring about our welfare. He is, indeed, worthy of every accolade we can offer, whether circumstances seem to agree or not.

*   *

When Martin and I were in the jungle, we would occasionally pray in the mornings, “God, could you do something special for us today, just to let us know that you haven’t forgotten us? We’re still here in the awful situation—how about encouraging us with something little? We need to know if we’re still on your radar screen.”

And then we would wait to see if anything unusual would happen.

I remember that one day, after such a prayer, an Abu Sayyaf member gave us a Coca-Cola! In this remote tangle of trees and vines and insects, far from civilization, a can with the familiar red label was suddenly dropped into our laps. Actually, the miracle was not so much that a pack of Cokes had arrived in the camp as that the guys didn’t gulp them all down themselves. On this particular day, they actually gave one to the Americans!

As we popped open the top, we quietly breathed, “Thank you, Lord. You remembered us, didn’t you! For this small token of your care, we give you thanks.”

Whether in small ways or large, by subtle means or dramatic ones, God’s love for his children shows through.