SheepTrax (Bryan Hupperts)
Command Performance
The invitations, laid in gold leaf, were sent out announcing a command performance in the great theater. God himself would be attending. The people were excited as they returned their RSVPs.
All came at the appointed time to witness this great performance.
The program bill proclaimed that two choral symphonies would be performed. Chilled in the air conditioning, all sat in anticipation of seeing God as they waited for the performance to begin. A special seating box, high above the audience, was marked Reserved and many whispered that must be where God would be seated.
The house lights dimmed to black and a spotlight beamed down center stage at a lone mic stand. An unknown man stepped out of the shadows and announced, “There will be a delay.” And he turned his back to the audience and walked back behind the curtain. The house lights went abruptly up leaving the throngs of people staring at each other.
At first, most sat in reverent silence waiting patiently for the arrival of God and for the two choral symphonies but, as the evening wore on, the air conditioning quit and the room was getting hot and stuffy. As the temperature climbed, tempers began to flare.
“Com’on. There is no sign of God or his choir. Where is the promise of his appearing?” some asked. Others, seeing people in the audience with whom they had long running, unresolved disputes, began to stir the waters of resentment telling their tales of woe until they were exaggerated beyond recognition with accusations running like wildfire, the destructive flames fanned along by willing, wagging tongues.
Others sat sweltering in resentment dressed in their finest, seething that they had dressed for the event and now had to wait, and for what? Couldn’t God have fixed the air conditioning? Didn’t he see this coming? And where was the so-called choir? Did God even have a clue how badly they were being inconvenienced?
Amid the clanging cacophony, amid the darkness and din, and the Babel of crescendoing voices, a different sound was heard. There were a few who feared the Lord who began to say to one another, “We don’t understand the delay either but, while we’re here, let’s worship God anyway.” Despite their discomforts, they praised Him.
As for the rest, the greater number in the vast audience began to divide along racial, political, and economic lines. Someone had to do something! Manipulators, adept at creating an “Us vs. Them” mentality, arose to draw men after themselves, exploiting the general discontent. Open warfare soon began. Kidnappings were common as seating groups would conspire together to “save” souls from other seating sections from their obvious deceptions, to get them into the “true work” of God.
The theater management issued a call for help. The audience was immense and, because of the delay, would anyone volunteer to help pass out food and water? Many of the quiet worshipers left their seats, and, in spite of the heat, donned the black jackets of servants and began to wait on others, passing out food and drink. While some received it with genuine gratitude, most murmured and complained. It was either too this or not that enough; whatever the complaint, it was not up to their standards.
The theater seemed ready to tear itself apart. Angry voices were rising; tempers flaring, while the few faithful worshipers still tried to encourage any who would listen that God was yet in control even if they had to take that statement on raw faith. They defended the name of Him who was Faithful and True while others openly scoffed.
Suddenly, a cool breeze blew through the packed house. The house lights dimmed as a sigh of relief went through the crowd. In the blackness a lone spotlight again shone about the mic stand. The unknown man again stepped up to the microphone and announced, “The performance is now ended. Good night.”
He again turned his back to the audience, walking towards the curtain as stunned audience members jumped to their feet in fury, demanding an explanation. Where was God in this so-called command performance? What about the two promised choral symphonies?
The man turned to face the crowd, and, after pausing for a long moment as if listening to an unseen Friend, motioned for silence.
He said, “You do not understand. Two choral symphonies were played out here tonight but you were the performers, not the audience. God himself was the audience and out of the abundance of your mouths, whether it was sweet worship or bitter complaint, you each sang to Almighty God what was truly in your heart. And those appointed to write in God’s Book of Remembrance recorded every word.”
With which of the two choral symphonies playing in the world do you willingly blend your voice? There is a Command Performance being played out with every word we speak.
Bryan Hupperts (c) 2000 - 2014
SheepTrax on Facebook
Command Performance
The invitations, laid in gold leaf, were sent out announcing a command performance in the great theater. God himself would be attending. The people were excited as they returned their RSVPs.
All came at the appointed time to witness this great performance.
The program bill proclaimed that two choral symphonies would be performed. Chilled in the air conditioning, all sat in anticipation of seeing God as they waited for the performance to begin. A special seating box, high above the audience, was marked Reserved and many whispered that must be where God would be seated.
The house lights dimmed to black and a spotlight beamed down center stage at a lone mic stand. An unknown man stepped out of the shadows and announced, “There will be a delay.” And he turned his back to the audience and walked back behind the curtain. The house lights went abruptly up leaving the throngs of people staring at each other.
At first, most sat in reverent silence waiting patiently for the arrival of God and for the two choral symphonies but, as the evening wore on, the air conditioning quit and the room was getting hot and stuffy. As the temperature climbed, tempers began to flare.
“Com’on. There is no sign of God or his choir. Where is the promise of his appearing?” some asked. Others, seeing people in the audience with whom they had long running, unresolved disputes, began to stir the waters of resentment telling their tales of woe until they were exaggerated beyond recognition with accusations running like wildfire, the destructive flames fanned along by willing, wagging tongues.
Others sat sweltering in resentment dressed in their finest, seething that they had dressed for the event and now had to wait, and for what? Couldn’t God have fixed the air conditioning? Didn’t he see this coming? And where was the so-called choir? Did God even have a clue how badly they were being inconvenienced?
Amid the clanging cacophony, amid the darkness and din, and the Babel of crescendoing voices, a different sound was heard. There were a few who feared the Lord who began to say to one another, “We don’t understand the delay either but, while we’re here, let’s worship God anyway.” Despite their discomforts, they praised Him.
As for the rest, the greater number in the vast audience began to divide along racial, political, and economic lines. Someone had to do something! Manipulators, adept at creating an “Us vs. Them” mentality, arose to draw men after themselves, exploiting the general discontent. Open warfare soon began. Kidnappings were common as seating groups would conspire together to “save” souls from other seating sections from their obvious deceptions, to get them into the “true work” of God.
The theater management issued a call for help. The audience was immense and, because of the delay, would anyone volunteer to help pass out food and water? Many of the quiet worshipers left their seats, and, in spite of the heat, donned the black jackets of servants and began to wait on others, passing out food and drink. While some received it with genuine gratitude, most murmured and complained. It was either too this or not that enough; whatever the complaint, it was not up to their standards.
The theater seemed ready to tear itself apart. Angry voices were rising; tempers flaring, while the few faithful worshipers still tried to encourage any who would listen that God was yet in control even if they had to take that statement on raw faith. They defended the name of Him who was Faithful and True while others openly scoffed.
Suddenly, a cool breeze blew through the packed house. The house lights dimmed as a sigh of relief went through the crowd. In the blackness a lone spotlight again shone about the mic stand. The unknown man again stepped up to the microphone and announced, “The performance is now ended. Good night.”
He again turned his back to the audience, walking towards the curtain as stunned audience members jumped to their feet in fury, demanding an explanation. Where was God in this so-called command performance? What about the two promised choral symphonies?
The man turned to face the crowd, and, after pausing for a long moment as if listening to an unseen Friend, motioned for silence.
He said, “You do not understand. Two choral symphonies were played out here tonight but you were the performers, not the audience. God himself was the audience and out of the abundance of your mouths, whether it was sweet worship or bitter complaint, you each sang to Almighty God what was truly in your heart. And those appointed to write in God’s Book of Remembrance recorded every word.”
With which of the two choral symphonies playing in the world do you willingly blend your voice? There is a Command Performance being played out with every word we speak.
Bryan Hupperts (c) 2000 - 2014
SheepTrax on Facebook
The invitations, laid in gold leaf, were sent out announcing a command performance in the great theater. God himself would be attending. The people were excited as they returned their RSVPs.
All came at the appointed time to witness this great performance.
The program bill proclaimed that two choral symphonies would be performed. Chilled in the air conditioning, all sat in anticipation of seeing God as they waited for the performance to begin. A special seating box, high above the audience, was marked Reserved and many whispered that must be where God would be seated.
The house lights dimmed to black and a spotlight beamed down center stage at a lone mic stand. An unknown man stepped out of the shadows and announced, “There will be a delay.” And he turned his back to the audience and walked back behind the curtain. The house lights went abruptly up leaving the throngs of people staring at each other.
At first, most sat in reverent silence waiting patiently for the arrival of God and for the two choral symphonies but, as the evening wore on, the air conditioning quit and the room was getting hot and stuffy. As the temperature climbed, tempers began to flare.
“Com’on. There is no sign of God or his choir. Where is the promise of his appearing?” some asked. Others, seeing people in the audience with whom they had long running, unresolved disputes, began to stir the waters of resentment telling their tales of woe until they were exaggerated beyond recognition with accusations running like wildfire, the destructive flames fanned along by willing, wagging tongues.
Others sat sweltering in resentment dressed in their finest, seething that they had dressed for the event and now had to wait, and for what? Couldn’t God have fixed the air conditioning? Didn’t he see this coming? And where was the so-called choir? Did God even have a clue how badly they were being inconvenienced?
Amid the clanging cacophony, amid the darkness and din, and the Babel of crescendoing voices, a different sound was heard. There were a few who feared the Lord who began to say to one another, “We don’t understand the delay either but, while we’re here, let’s worship God anyway.” Despite their discomforts, they praised Him.
As for the rest, the greater number in the vast audience began to divide along racial, political, and economic lines. Someone had to do something! Manipulators, adept at creating an “Us vs. Them” mentality, arose to draw men after themselves, exploiting the general discontent. Open warfare soon began. Kidnappings were common as seating groups would conspire together to “save” souls from other seating sections from their obvious deceptions, to get them into the “true work” of God.
The theater management issued a call for help. The audience was immense and, because of the delay, would anyone volunteer to help pass out food and water? Many of the quiet worshipers left their seats, and, in spite of the heat, donned the black jackets of servants and began to wait on others, passing out food and drink. While some received it with genuine gratitude, most murmured and complained. It was either too this or not that enough; whatever the complaint, it was not up to their standards.
The theater seemed ready to tear itself apart. Angry voices were rising; tempers flaring, while the few faithful worshipers still tried to encourage any who would listen that God was yet in control even if they had to take that statement on raw faith. They defended the name of Him who was Faithful and True while others openly scoffed.
Suddenly, a cool breeze blew through the packed house. The house lights dimmed as a sigh of relief went through the crowd. In the blackness a lone spotlight again shone about the mic stand. The unknown man again stepped up to the microphone and announced, “The performance is now ended. Good night.”
He again turned his back to the audience, walking towards the curtain as stunned audience members jumped to their feet in fury, demanding an explanation. Where was God in this so-called command performance? What about the two promised choral symphonies?
The man turned to face the crowd, and, after pausing for a long moment as if listening to an unseen Friend, motioned for silence.
He said, “You do not understand. Two choral symphonies were played out here tonight but you were the performers, not the audience. God himself was the audience and out of the abundance of your mouths, whether it was sweet worship or bitter complaint, you each sang to Almighty God what was truly in your heart. And those appointed to write in God’s Book of Remembrance recorded every word.”
With which of the two choral symphonies playing in the world do you willingly blend your voice? There is a Command Performance being played out with every word we speak.
Bryan Hupperts (c) 2000 - 2014
SheepTrax on Facebook
