Reflections

Picture from art.com by Judy Gibson

I play the piano at church once a month or so. Every few months I end up on the week that we have communion (Baptist churches in Australia have it twice a month ~ one morning and one evening). It usually fills me with a combined sense of dread, nerves, and a sense of the huge responsibility it is to be the one to choose music that is played whilst everyone else in the church is sitting quietly, meditating and praying. I feel completely inadequate and unworthy to be making such choices. We often talk in the music team at our church, about the privilege of leading God's people in their worship of Him. For me, playing during communion is the pinnacle of that responsibility and privilege. Perhaps in part, because I bear that small area of the responsibility on my own.

This week was no different for me. I'm usually so nervous that I am barely able to put my fingers in the right spot. I can be fine until then, but during communion I play on my own, without the 'cover' of other instruments! This week I was able to thank God that my prayer for accuracy and the ability to breathe were answered!

One of the songs I chose was a song written by Stuart Townend called "How Deep the Father's Love". It talks about the depth and vastness of God's love in sending Jesus to bear all my wretched sin on His shoulders and to have the Father turn His face away from His Son, in that moment. I read through the words again this morning and am again completely in awe that God would do that for ME.

It's just as well I didn't read through ALL the verses before I played that song yesterday, or I would've been unable to see the music through the tears. One thing I've learned is that us musicians are a sooky lot!

How deep the Father's Love for us,
How vast beyond all measure;
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure.
How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away,
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory.

Behold the man upon a Cross,
My sins upon his shoulders;
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers.
It was my sin tat held Him there
Until it was accomplished,
His dying breath has brought me life.
I know that it is finished.

I will not boast in anything,
No gifts, no power, no wisdom;
But I will boast in Jesus Christ,
His death and resurrection.
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer,
But this I know with all my heart;
His wounds have paid my ransom.