When I was a young boy between 6 and 11 years of age, our family lived in Stillwater, Oklahoma. Our subdivision was a boys dream. All of the homes were on 1/2 acre lots surrounding a small private lake. My friends and I would ride around the neighborhood on our bikes, fish in the lake and play together. Looking back on it, it was heaven on earth.
I remember when I was in the 5th grade I was having an awful time with algebra. Many nights I would find myself sitting down with my Dad being tutored in algebra, or should I say, “tortured by algebra.” For some reason it was not making sense. I dreaded the lessons. I thought it was one of those crazy things you learn in school that you will never use again.
Bill had cleaned and loaded the gun. He knew that he had no other choice but to stop the abuse. Conversations had not worked, threats did not stop it and the bruises were more than he could stand to see. Jessica was Bill’s only daughter and since she had married Jim her life had only gotten worse. They had been married for a few years and had two children.
Jim had been unable to hold down a job for any length of time, which is common for alcoholics. His drinking had increased over time along with the abuse.
Ok, I have the answer. There is no need to continue searching. I now know the one song we should sing in all of our churches. We can sing it regardless of our background, denomination, or musical preferences. It was sung by Mary and Moses, Paul and Silas, Peter and John, Job and Jeremiah and a host of other men and women across time.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer describes the song in his book, Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Faith in Community