Living in the 'Selah'

This year is unfolding to be one of the most dramatic, traumatic, and emphatic years that I can remember. And it is a year in which so many people's hopes and dreams and plans have come to an absolute standstill. Whoever thought that we would be in lockdown isolation, preparing to homeschool our children while at the same time balancing our work and yet facing joy losses? And all of this happening directly after bushfires ravaged through Australia, incinerating so much of our iconic landscape and fauna. In this time, I have been drawing more and more from the Psalms... because what do we do when we don't know how else to pray? The Psalms breathe life into the deepest human experiences, moulding and forming truth through words. And as I have been reading, I have again noticed this strange little interruption that sneaks into some of the writings - the selah. But I have now noticed it in a different way.

This enigmatic word is found only in the poetry of the Old Testament. The first thing to know about selah is that we don’t know much about selah. It’s a mystery of the Psalms. While the selah’s original meaning has been lost in the sands of time, almost everyone agrees that it has some musical or liturgical significance. Many commentators think that selah meant 'to pause' or 'to reflect'. This could have been a request for the reader or listener to pause and think about what has just been said, or it could have been a space for voices to pause and for instruments play alone. We don't really know for certain.

When I was younger, I used to just skip over this part of the Psalms, thinking it was like some strange Hebrew punctuation. And I wouldn't dare try and pronounce it if I was doing a bible reading in public! It really was just a strange little thing that I would politely step around and continue on my way. La-la-la-la-lah. But now I can no longer ignore this little blip that would inconvenience my reading - it now somehow requires something of me. To pause, to breathe, to allow space to linger.

Here is my greatest wondering of late - perhaps we are living in a historic selah? In the midst of our dialogues and agendas and negotiations and transactions, we have suddenly, and inconveniently, been interrupted. Paused. Stopped. We can see this on a global level through planes physically grounded, imports/exports being frozen, economies crashing, and schools and borders being closed indefinitely. And perhaps we see this on a very real personal level as well, where plans for what this year was to hold has suddenly been rain-checked for who knows who long.

I had huge aspirational hopes for this year (the forever optimist!). It was going to be my first year where I had mustered up the courage and desire to step outside of being in the home full time and pursue things that brought some life to me - through contributing to the wider community, using my professional skills and training, and maybe even earning a fraction more income for our growing family. As my plans came together and my resume was sent out, the excitement and passion for what was to come this year grew and emboldened. Not that I was going to be changing the world, but that I was stepping back into a 'self' I had not inhabited for many years. Sadly, those things are no longer a reality; not even an option. It is like a big fat SELAH has fallen into my life and paused the momentum of the song. The song I was soooo ready to sing again. At first I lamented this interruption, feeling sad that my wings would once again have to be clipped and grounded... but now I wonder if it might be more than merely an inconvenient interruption to my plans. Maybe it is, in fact, a sacredly important part of the song that I am writing with my life. I don't know, and I may not know for a long time, if ever. But it feels like something is emerging out of this life-pause, out of the silence that I did not choose to dwell in. Maybe I just need to wait and see...

Selah gives us an opportunity to take a moment away from this crazy, busy, non-stop life we all tend to live, and consider the immense mysteries and wonders of God. Paul speaks to this in Colossians 2:2-3 : "My goal is that they may be encouraged in heart and united in love, so that they may have the full riches of complete understanding, in order that they may know the mystery of God, namely, Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge". And how do we come to know the mystery of God other than to pause, stop, rest, and listen? Whilst we can never really fully understand the mystery of all that God is, and all that Jesus does for us daily, we can see glimpses if we allow ourselves to be still for long enough. Knowing this, I feel that it is fitting that this beautiful word selah should be, like our knowledge of God, just beyond our full understanding.

A champion of the faith, Charles Spurgeon, provides a glorious explanation of the opportunity we have within the selah...

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“In the midst of such a hurly burly the music may well come to a pause, both to give the singers breath, and ourselves time for meditation. We are in no hurry, but can sit us down and wait while earth dissolves, and mountains rock, and oceans roar. Ours is not the headlong rashness which passes for courage, we can calmly confront the danger, and meditate upon terror, dwelling on its separate items and united forces. The pause is not an exclamation of dismay, but merely a rest in music; we do not suspend our song in alarm, but tune our harps again with deliberation amidst the tumult of the storm. It were well if all of us could say, Selah, under tempestuous trials, but alas! too often we speak in our haste, lay our trembling hands bewildered among the strings, strike the lyre with a rude crash, and mar the melody of our life song.”

- Charles Spurgeon*

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Listen to this again - "We do not suspend our song in alarm, but tune our harps again with deliberation amidst the tumult of the storm."

I want to do exactly this: tune my harp with careful consideration. In the midst of a global pandemic -which one could call a 'storm' - now is not the time to make a clanging sound of alarm, but rather to take the opportunity to attentively tune our harps, our instruments of worship; that being, ourselves (Romans 12:1). To tune ourselves is to re-align our lives to the Master conductor, from whom all melodies and songs flow. It is an incredible opportunity to stop and take time to listen to the central chord and hear how our heart responds. Does it jar us and create dissonance? If so, what adjustments might need to be faithfully made? Or does it blend beautifully with the core melody, listening to the gentle resonance of the Creator. I can honestly say that there has been some very careful tuning done within my heart over the last few years, and so there are moments where I can hear the synchronous sound of resonance; and yet this current selah time has also highlighted some discord within me too. So now it is time for me, once again, to sit and listen carefully and re-tune my heart and 'harp'. The word selah itself indeed causes us to pause and consider what God may be saying even when we don't fully understand. This is not wasted time, nor is it an inconvenient pause anymore. But rather, it is a holy time to dwell in the space of rest and to remind myself of who I am writing my song for.

Let me finish with these beautiful words of reflection by Spurgeon:

SELAH bids the music rest.

Pause in silence soft and blest;

SELAH bids uplift the strain,

Harps and voices tune again;

SELAH ends the vocal praise,

Still your hearts to God upraise.*

*'Treasury of David' - Psalm 46 [found at www.romans45.org/spurgeon/treasury/ps046.htm]