Passover and Seder

The Song of Moses

The song you sing on the other side. After the sea closes. After the enemy is behind you. After you realize you survived something that should have killed you. A meditation on what praise sounds like after deliverance.

They made it. The water closed behind them. The army is gone. And for the first time in four hundred years, they are standing on free ground.

Imagine that silence. The last sounds of the sea settling. The horses gone quiet. The dust settling on the far shore. And then someone starts to sing.

The first worship song in the Bible. Right here. Exodus 15. Not in a temple. Not in a cathedral. On a beach. Soaking wet. Shaking. And Moses opens his mouth and sings: "I will sing unto the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously."

This is what real praise sounds like. Not polished. Not rehearsed. Born out of terror that just ended. Born out of looking back at water that should have killed you and realizing you're alive.

And then Miriam. Moses' sister. She picks up a tambourine. And every woman follows her. Dancing on the shore. After four hundred years. That tambourine might be the most defiant instrument in the history of music. "The Lord is my strength and song, and he is become my salvation." Notice the order. Strength first. Then song. The song comes after the survival. You can't sing about deliverance while you're still drowning.

When was the last time you sang? Not in the car. Not along with something. When was the last time praise came out of you because you couldn't hold it in? Because something happened that was so clearly God that words weren't enough?

I think most of us are stuck between Egypt and the song. We've been delivered from something. Maybe recently. Maybe years ago. But we haven't sung about it yet. We haven't danced about it. We haven't let the joy catch up to the relief.

Tonight is a good night to sing. Not perfectly. Miriam didn't have a sound system. She had a tambourine and wet feet. But the song she sang has lasted three thousand years. Because it was real.

Maybe that's what this Passover needs from you. Not more thinking. Not more processing. A song. Any song. The messy, grateful, tear-stained kind that comes from someone who just realized they're standing on the other side.

Listen to This Prayer

Backed by ambient music. Made to be heard, not just read.

Audio version coming soon.