Sheru la Yahweh, kea ga oh, ga ah, soos, wa roe ka voe, ramah vayam.
Perhaps the oldest poem in the Hebrew language, perhaps the oldest writing in the Old Testament, one of the oldest songs in the history of the world.
Sheru la Yahweh, kea ga oh, ga ah, soos, wa roe ka voe, ramah vayam.
The Song of Miriam, the sister of Moses.
“Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; horse and rider he has thrown into the sea.”
Playing the tambourine, Miriam and all the women dancing, Pharaoh’s army was no more, Israel was safe.
So they sang and they danced, and they played the tambourine.
Back in seminary we used to chant the song of Miriam in Hebrew at our foot ball games against other seminaries, the opposing team would think we were talking in tongues.
Slaves in ancient Egypt, the children of Israel, gave out a cry of anguish in their bondage. They cried out blindly to a silent universe that just sat back and watched their suffering with sleepy indifference.
And they were heard, by the God who hears, the God who cares, the God who gets involved, the God who holds his people close.
What began as a vain cry of anguish ends in singing, and dancing, the great evil has been defeated, the corrupt power and abuse of Pharaoh had been washed away.
Sheru la Yahwah! Sing to Yahweh! Sing to the Lord!
No longer a nameless entity, no longer a meaningless universe, but now a God with a name, and a Universe that cares.
The powerful, the mighty, the strong, the corrupt, the cruel do not have the final say.
The Lord has the final say, the final word of many waters, of crashing waves and mighty cataracts swallowing up the violent and the predatory.
The victim is vindicated.
The slave is free.
The unheard are heard.
And they sing, and they dance, to the One who hears, the One who cares, the One who intervenes.
And this people of singing and dancing carry this memory, this song, this dance through out history up to this day.
This is how we see the world, this is how we know the story will eventually end.
All that is hurt and hurtful will end, and as Julian of Norwich says “all will be well, all matter of things will be well”.
It is the Lord’s doing and it is marvelous in our eyes.
This is a bold and contrary hope that we carry within us, this is a faith that we bare witness to, that God is rescuing the world from the powerful and corrupt who take advantage of the weakness of others.
That is who we put our trust in, despite the appearances of so much that goes on around us we have faith that the Universe is ultimately just, fair, merciful and gracious, so we will do so as well.
Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; the horse and rider has he thrown into the sea!
The oldest song. The greatest song.
We carry Miriam’s song in us.
We know and trust that the world should be a certain way.
We know that certain things should not happen.
There is a standard that judges the world, we feel that there is a certain “oughtness” to life, things ought to be a certain way.
The strong ought to lift up and support the weak, not prey upon or take advantage of, we know this deep down.
The parable from Matthew’s gospel illustrates beautifully the nature of God’s standard. We forge our own chains, or we grow our own wings.
The measure we give is the measure we receive.
Those who hold others down will be held down.
Those who lift others up will be lifted up.
Those who enslave others will be washed away.
Those who set people free will be free indeed.
Those who will not forgive will not be forgiven.
Those who forgive will be forgiven.
Ultimately this is an impossible standard to live up to, we need help. We are much like Pharaoh with hardened hearts, too heavy to float.
I think Miriam gives us direction, in her singing and dancing, she has received grace, so she can give grace, she has been given freedom so she can now share freedom.
The miracle of grace, the Good News of Jesus, is that a great gift has been given that we may then in turn live thankfully, an impossible judgment becomes a liberating hope.
God has lifted us up so we can now lift up others.
God has forgiven us so we can now forgive.
God has set us free so we share that freedom.
We live with a hope that judges the world in such a way that the world is lifted up rather than cast down, cared for rather than scorned, embraced rather than cast aside.
It is a changed world this place of hope and grace in the midst of despair and violence.
We walk by this faith rather than by sight.
We know, the song is written in our hearts, etched on or bones, that the mighty have fallen, the horse and rider have been cast in to the sea, the Lord has triumphed gloriously.
With Miriam we sing, and dance and play the tambourine as we watch the Sea.
Sheru la Yahweh, kea ga oh, ga ah, soos, wa roe ka voe, ramah vayam.