The Joy of Singing Again

A Season of Silence

We're now about a year into the pandemic - one that has changed just about every facet of our lives. The Church, too, has felt the impact and the effects of this global pandemic. Up till April 5, the Singapore government stipulated that no congregational singing was allowed in places of worship, among many other limited opportunities and strict conditions. 

I remember having a conversation with my brother and a dear friend of the ministry, Josh Yeoh, about a month prior when singing was still not permitted. We talked about how it was such a bummer that we couldn’t sing in services, and how—as I’m sure many worship leaders and musicians will agree—it was extra challenging to lead live worship when the congregation just looks back at you, masked up with only eyes visible, unable to sing.

But beneath that all, I believe that there was such a deep aching building within the Church to sing corporately again. The wrestle is real - encountering the holy presence of God and not being able to verbalise a sound in response. Week after week, service after service, I believe the longing just grew deeper and deeper; yet, it was a fine balance of also obeying and observing the measures put in place by the authorities. Honouring those regulations and the authorities, too, was worship.

Then, as we were just sitting in silence, a revelation hit us: 

Waiting with anticipation for the day we would be finally able to sing again was a juxtaposition of the Church, Christ’s bride, waiting with anticipation to be reunited with the One we love – Jesus.

This season of yearning for something tangible has been a lesson that should fuel our longing for our beloved Saviour. It is here in the waiting that the yearning intensifies, so that our joy might be complete—and exponentially greater—in that great and glorious day, when we are finally reunited with Christ. The wait fuels the desire, and oh what joy shall fill our hearts when we finally meet Him face to face.

So, Church, as we savour this moment where we are finally able to sing, remember the explosion of joy, shut up in our bones for the longest time, finally being unleashed.

It’s also a vital reminder that being able to sing corporately is a privilege—for us to be able to express our devotion for our God with our voices—one that we must soberly never take for granted.

Embrace it, for it is but a minuscule foretaste of the joy that will fill our hearts, when we come face to face with our Lover and Saviour, the One whose eyes burn with fire, whose hair is white as snow, whose feet are like burnished bronze, and whose voice—the very voice we long to hear say, “well done”—roars like the sound of many waters.

It’s time for the church to sing again.