What do
people feel, see, or think when, preferably - or mostly per the worship leader’s
directive – while standing, with eyes closed, arms in the air and slowly
swaying on the music’s rhythm, sing “Take
me deeper than my feet could ever wander, and my faith will be made stronger”?
The song is
versed in the context and image of a lot of water and some serious waves agitating
its surface. So we’re talking about a serious volume of water, not to be
confused with an average ornamental pond that one might encounter in some
backyards.
In my mind
I see myself walking into the ocean until the water reaches my lips. The west
wind (force 6-7) pushes up the short and
fierce waves. In between each two waves I quickly breathe, panic slowly
building up but, through some serious effort and positive self-talk, I maintain
this “I’m alright” poise. Heartbeats per minute now over 150. This already is
quite frightening let alone when I decide to keep on walking. Keep going. Be
brave and just let go for where you lose the ground under your feet the Lord
finally gets an opportunity to carry you.
Maybe it’s
a contemporary and Christian application of the awfull generalisation “no pain,
no gain,” an expression that is used to comfort and encourage those that suffer
from (mostly) self-inflicted pain, with the hope and expectation to come out at
the other end of that pain more beautiful and attractive. Some factions
within theology have adopted No pain, No gain, as truth; we only grow and change
after having gone through some serious pain and misfortune, and buttress it with some cut out from its context Scripture.[1]
AP Photo/Schalk van Zuydam |
Whenever
this song is sung (very often) I cannot help but see the image of a desperate father
and/or mother having to give up their child to death as a result of some horrible
disease, malnutrition or whatever cursed cause.
Or I see a, for whatever reason tormented soul that wonders how much longer it can cope with life, barely standing up straight there where the water meets the sand.
Or I see a, for whatever reason tormented soul that wonders how much longer it can cope with life, barely standing up straight there where the water meets the sand.
It just
doesn’t sync with my experience of the (greater) reality that we’re part of in
this world. I can’t say, nor sing these words and instead will use it as an
opportunity to quietly pray for all those that can’t hum or sing along as their
pain is to great or their questions to big.
No, it’s a typical
song that is sung by a reasonably affluent audience out of the plush of the
comfortable theatre seat. Well fed, (almost) all ducks in life’s row and yet slightly
unhappy with their spiritual state of mind and soul. There’s got to be more; maybe
the depth of the sea will have the answer and will finally get me what I’m
after.
This kind
of depth, as advocated in the song, we don’t have to deliberately seek or ask
for. It happens upon us as an unwelcome, malignant intruder. Some don’t and won’t
survive these depths. It’s not their or God’s fault. It happens.
May God have and show mercy on all those that find themselves involuntarily in those depths.
May God have and show mercy on all those that find themselves involuntarily in those depths.
In response
to Oceans, Hillsong United. Here a link to an especially spectacular beautiful version (I love a good piece of music and that’s
what this). Pay attention to the smooth sliding chords and the build up to the climax.
[1] For instance 1 Peter 1:6-7 In all
this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to
suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7 These have come so that the proven
genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even
though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ
is revealed.
Or
Isiah
43:2 When you pass through the waters, I
will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep
over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames
will not set you ablaze.