Gone Caving.

In February of 2013 I did a brief review of a play I saw at Crossroads Tabernacle. Pastor Joe, who wrote the play, also happens to be a gifted musician and songwriter.

What does this have to do with Bronx Bethany's Lenten Meditations on the Love of God? Nothing... and everything. 

There is this curious thing that happens during Lent: God calls us to give up the things that are the norm. Some people stop eating certain foods. Some people give up watching television. From yesterday afternoon through this morning, I struggled with the idea of stopping my normal sermon post in order to share my thoughts on one of Pastor Joe's songs.

The struggle is over.

I'm assuming that not too many people get to share concrete thoughts about the mental, spiritual, and musical hoops they jump through when listening to music. It's much easier to just say "I love/hate that song" without delving into details. But every now and then, it's good to engage process. So, here are my musings on The Cave of Adullam. It is one of the songs from the album The Psalter Remixed, Vol. 1, an MP3 album released last November by Joseph Henry Cortese (downloads available for purchase via iTunes or Amazon).

The first time I heard the song, I felt like someone had reached into me and tapped some primordial nerve. I said to myself, "That's it. That hits me where I live." The second time? Same thing. And the third time too. And every time afterward. I felt an overwhelming gratitude and joy in knowing I'd encountered a song that understands me and that speaks to my core every time I hear it. This song, without words, says what I could never say out loud. What a wonderful thing to experience.

The Cave of Adullam brings to my mind images from the narrative in First Samuel 22, beyond just David in the cave. There is David getting help from Ahimelek in chapter 21; David securing a safe haven for his parents; David realizing that dozens of priests were killed because of Saul's zeal in hunting him down; David knowing he was anointed king, but destined to wait in the wings for decades; David looking into the faces of men who had devoted their very lives to his cause. And beyond King David, the song speaks to me of the modern-day Davids: my friends who are dealing with crazy stuff; issues of fanatics, haters, and stalkers; delays in realizing the ministry call; seeking protection and care for parents; seeing other people suffer pain from raging, modern-day Sauls. The Cave of Adullam makes me cry in sadness for the sick life of the Sauls, and it makes me cry in gratitude for the One who continues to shield the Davids.

In the song I hear echoes of Mersey Beat, slowed to the pulse of a mid-life adult: no longer frenetic, but no less passionate than the music that introduced me to the beat in my infancy. (Perhaps that is part of the primordial connection.) I hear artistic infighting and questions of where the line is between rock, fusion, and jazz, and I hear the "something else" that refuses to be labeled and put in a box. I hear the background vocals and am drawn back to haunting Jewish-Messianic harmonies, where suffering and hope are both expressed in a minor key. And I hear the emptiness, the silenced voices that underline the stark reality: the true king lives in a cave while the deposed king wields the crown. We cannot protest, because we have no words. We can only groan as we watch the story unfold.

The Cave of Adullam is my redemptive rock anthem, and it is my prophetic signpost. What is the prophecy? Stay quiet. Stay hidden. Nevermind King Saul. Saul's rantings will soon be a distant memory. You will soon move from the cave of Adullam to the palace in Jerusalem. 

If you have an affinity for pop, rock, and jazz, you'll have no challenges listening to this song. If you hate guitars and drums but have an openness to step away from what you normally listen to, I encourage you to take a listen. After all, this is Lent. It's a great time to give up what you'd prefer, and I trust that you will be blessed for having stepped out of your comfort zone.

You can click here to hear the song on SoundCloud. As you listen, think of King David in the cave. Think of yourself and your own life challenges. Think of God, who is as present with us in our season of hiding as He is in our season of elevation. And as you think of these things, may the realization of God's goodness shift you from thinking to thanksgiving.

Blessings and peace to you.

-Genise