In Which Job Is Discussed...
I'm going to say this first and foremost: I have never particularly liked the story of Job. There's something about his useless suffering that has always bothered me, the same something that makes it difficult for me to reconcile the benevolent God of the New Testament with the vengeful God of the Old.
That said, on to my story: choir.
We're singing a gorgeous arrangement of "Job, Job" for Cantorei. It's beautiful. However, because it's got some soul to it, people treat it like a song for choreography and crazy booty dancing. It's not. It's JOB, for heaven's sake.
Oh Job, Job, now what you reckon, all your oxen dead.
Oh Job, Job, now what you reckon, all your daughters dead.
Now listen at Job, what Job said:
Wanna go to heaven, wanna go to heaven, I wanna go to heaven in the morning.
Swing low, chariot, swing low, chariot, oh swing low chariot in the morning.
I understand that most people don't know what it's like to suffer at age 20. Most people have lost maybe one loved one, maybe been depressed. They can't see themselves in Job, though. They haven't seen enough to say that they have been in that situation.
I can.
I don't know if I've ever told anyone this (I probably haven't), but the whole Mike thing was a crisis of faith moment for me. I spent every night doing the Job thing: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Of course, I stuck with bawling my eyes out and going "Why me? Why now? Why him?" Even without the fancy wording, I have been there. I prayed most every night with that one though, though Job beat me to it: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
And I didn't think of Job at the time. I couldn't. But now, singing about it, I see that. I see me. I see Job. I see the suffering of the both of us and I know what it is to ask why. I also know what it is to refuse to give up, to refuse to turn away from the faith you have. Though I am not a righteous person, I am not a model of the believer as he or she should be, and I definitely have not suffered the full weight of what Job suffered, I have continued looking up.
Won't hang my head down, hang my head down, won't hang my head down in the morning.
Gonna face my maker, face my maker, face up to my maker in the morning.
We're singing about Job. I'm singing about me.
And I know that the other girls don't get that. They're trying to turn it into R&B with no regard for the weight of the story that stands on those words. Some of them probably don't know the bible story. Others might know that he was patient and penitent, nothing more. But I am singing for Job. I am singing for me. I am singing for everybody who has been tossed about by tempests and continued to look the world straight in the eye.
Won't hang my head down in the morning.
That said, on to my story: choir.
We're singing a gorgeous arrangement of "Job, Job" for Cantorei. It's beautiful. However, because it's got some soul to it, people treat it like a song for choreography and crazy booty dancing. It's not. It's JOB, for heaven's sake.
Oh Job, Job, now what you reckon, all your oxen dead.
Oh Job, Job, now what you reckon, all your daughters dead.
Now listen at Job, what Job said:
Wanna go to heaven, wanna go to heaven, I wanna go to heaven in the morning.
Swing low, chariot, swing low, chariot, oh swing low chariot in the morning.
I understand that most people don't know what it's like to suffer at age 20. Most people have lost maybe one loved one, maybe been depressed. They can't see themselves in Job, though. They haven't seen enough to say that they have been in that situation.
I can.
I don't know if I've ever told anyone this (I probably haven't), but the whole Mike thing was a crisis of faith moment for me. I spent every night doing the Job thing: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Of course, I stuck with bawling my eyes out and going "Why me? Why now? Why him?" Even without the fancy wording, I have been there. I prayed most every night with that one though, though Job beat me to it: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
And I didn't think of Job at the time. I couldn't. But now, singing about it, I see that. I see me. I see Job. I see the suffering of the both of us and I know what it is to ask why. I also know what it is to refuse to give up, to refuse to turn away from the faith you have. Though I am not a righteous person, I am not a model of the believer as he or she should be, and I definitely have not suffered the full weight of what Job suffered, I have continued looking up.
Won't hang my head down, hang my head down, won't hang my head down in the morning.
Gonna face my maker, face my maker, face up to my maker in the morning.
We're singing about Job. I'm singing about me.
And I know that the other girls don't get that. They're trying to turn it into R&B with no regard for the weight of the story that stands on those words. Some of them probably don't know the bible story. Others might know that he was patient and penitent, nothing more. But I am singing for Job. I am singing for me. I am singing for everybody who has been tossed about by tempests and continued to look the world straight in the eye.
Won't hang my head down in the morning.