The Singer

Tonight, while I was babysitting my brother, I picked up a book from his room. The book is called The Singer, written by Calvin Miller in 1975. I was unsure if I would like the book, but I as I began to read, the story immediatly caught my attention.

This is no ordinary book.

This book captures the image of Jesus Christ, coming to earth as a man, and the love he has for every one of His children. It shows the compassion, the heartache, the raw, pure love that He has for each of us, and it so clearly showcases the picture of the restored relationship He so desperatly desires to have with each of us.

Did I mention the fact that this book is written in poetry? I'm sure there's a better word/phrase for that, but that factor contributed to my orginal feelings of uncertantinty. I was wrong-this book is one that I will remember for a long time, and is certainly a fantastic piece of literature. [Side note: why can't we read books like this in school?]

Here are a few of my favorite exerpts from the book...

"You know the final verse?"
his mother asked.

"I know it all," he answered
back. "But I'll not sing it
here. I'll wait till I am on
the wall. Then alone the
melody will fall upon thick
ears."

"They will not like the final
verse," she said.

"They will not like it, for its
music is beyond their empty days
and makes them trade their
littleness for life."

"The self of every singer of the
song must die to know its music?"

"They all must die, and ever
does the self die hard. It
screams and begs in pity not to
go. Nor can it bear to let the
Father-Spirit own the soul."

He turned the thoughts methodi-
cally within his mind then spoke
again, "Mother, I shall sing the
song while I move out to seek
more singers who like me are
quite content to sing, then die."

She knew that he was right, but
found it hard to talk of joyous
life and painful death at the
same time. How odd the song born
on Earthmaker's breath should
lead his only Troubador to death.

"I cannot bear to see you
die. Let all
The world go by. Don't
sing upon the wall.
At least don't sing the
hell-bound ancient curse.
If you must sing of life
leave off the final verse."

"I go," he said. "God give me
strength to sing upon the wall-
the Great Walled City of the
Ancient King."

He turned.

She cried.

"Leave off the final verse and
not upon the wall."

He kissed her.

"I can't ignore
the Father-Spirit's call
So I will sing it there,
and I will sing it all."

-The Singer, Calvin Miller, (pg. 44-45)

I love it. This, my friends, is beautiful. Raw, powerful, and beautiful.
Fantastic.

Em