On belief

This week, my students and I discuss a real-world truth, that what you believe will inevitably drive your behavior.

We're talking about our musical philosophies, about why we believe music should be an aspect of children's daily lives, and about how those beliefs will drive our objectives in our classrooms.  They're connected, we decide: If you believe that music is important, you'll include it.  If you don't, chances are good that you won't.

And so: what we believe determines our behavior.

I've been thinking about the role of belief in my own behavior recently, and so it doesn't seem all that shocking to find myself discussing this in my classroom.  I've been thinking about it ever since I watched Lincoln, and saw the weight of many lives hanging on this one man's sleepless-night shoulders, and realized it was because he believed in the ending of slavery enough to say:  we must proceed, no matter the cost.

I've been thinking of it ever since I attended a banquet in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr., where people of all skin sat together and listened to re-tellings of atrocities committed for no other reason than that there are those who believe that the color of skin is a matter of value.  We gathered together without fear of retribution in order to remember the bravery of one man who made it possible, one man who made a commitment to a Truth beyond his reality, believed that things had to change in order to realize it, and proceeded, no matter the cost.

And I am held by these men, the immensity of their bravery, the sleepless-night complexity of wondering if the foot leading out on the edges of the enemy line was the right decision, worth the hard weary and the blood of all these others following behind.  I am held by the commitment it took to fight a battle that countered the culture, that called out deeply held beliefs determining blind eyes and values of humanity based on surface of skin and said: Enough.

I am held, I am held, by their listening for a greater Truth, and their seeking eyes seeing that one day it could be, and their offering of shoulders, to carry it out.

[I am held, I am held.]

And I've been thinking about it because I see it in my own life, the daily call to stand up and say: Who does God say He is? Who does He say I am, and the people I love, and the people I meet, and the people with whom I dance this thing called living?  Because what I believe about what God says about all of those things will determine the steps I take and the steps I avoid, it will dictate my every move and my every sitting-this-one-out.

And the thing that holds me is: Do I have ears to hear the call of greater Truth, do I have eyes to see beyond cultural definitions holding fast, do I have the bravery of sleepless-shouldering-nights to say: This, here, is Who I believe; this, here, is where I stake my claim; this, here, is where I put my foot on the edge of the enemy line in order to say: Enough.  ...

...Do I?

~~~

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand [Is. 41.10] I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth.  These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them [Is. 42.16]

And because this promise I believe: I can, I will, I do.