The Song of the Saved Struggler

There is a curious passage found in Revelation, the last book of the Bible.  Well, let’s be honest.  There are many curious passages found in the last book of the Bible! It’s a book that I try to avoid because it reminds me how little I understand God and His ways.  But if I understood God, He wouldn’t be much of a God, would He?

In Revelation 14, the Apostle John has a front row seat in heaven and sees a multitude of 144,000 undefiled followers of Jesus who have emerged victorious, having triumphantly survived the Great Tribulation. They stand as proof of God’s ability to preserve His people and they have the name of Jesus and the name of God tattooed on their forehead. Did you notice? They do not have the identifier “Quaker,” “Baptist,” “Catholic,” or “Presbyterian” proudly displayed there.  No. Just the name of our Savior and our God.

Then John reports that “they (the 144,000) sang a new song before the throne and before the four living creatures and the elders. No one could learn the song except the 144,000 who had been redeemed from the earth.”

What new song can be sung only by those who have endured the onslaught of hell itself? What kind of song cannot be learned by the hosts of heaven?

It seems that this is an earthly song, a song only experienced and learned in the broken, redeemed human heart. It is a song of personal experience. It testifies of their burdens and a gracious God who delivered them.  They sing of their victory, made possible by their Messiah who set them free. Angels can’t learn it because it requires being born into sinful flesh and being saved from evil. Angel choirs may reach to the heights of heaven, but the song of the redeemed is born in the earthly muck of difficulty.

George Matheson was a Scottish minister who slowly went blind as a young man. His fiancé broke their engagement when he disclosed his impending handicap. From his own despair and sadness, he wrote that God was his music teacher training him for his heavenly song through the disappointments of life. He wrote that his singing voice was refined by sorrow.

On the eve of his sister’s wedding, Matheson wrote the hymn, “O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go.” The third verse says, “O Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to Thee; I trace the rainbow through the rain and feel the promise is not in vain – that morn shall tearless be.”

What song are you learning today? Though in pain, can you pray, “Lord, would you use this trouble to give me a beautiful, powerful song of testimony that I alone can sing to you someday?”

Charles Spurgeon, who knew all-too-well the challenges of this life once said, “Heaven is not the place to learn that song; it must be learned on the earth. You must learn here the notes of free grace and dying love; and when you have mastered their melody, you will be able to offer to the Lord the tribute of a grateful heart, even in heaven, and blend it with the harmonies eternal.”

Nancy Bontempo
Pastor at Friends Community Church, Sturgeon Bay