I can’t remember exactly when I first heard the song, but it was likely on a Sunday morning at Mars Hill Church in Orange County. Co-written by Dustin Kensrue and Stuart Townend, ‘Rejoice’ has been a song with a near-constant presence in the recent years of my life. If you haven’t heard the song you can listen to it below and find the lyrics here
The whole song is a call to rejoice in God and all that he has done. The first verse reminds us of our place as creatures and the fearful enormity of our Creator. His sheer magnitude ought to evoke a song of praise in us. Verse two zooms in, as it were, to our identity as beloved children “Won with everlasting kindness // Bought with sacrificial blood.” The good news of Jesus Christ is that he is an ever-present reminder of the gentle compassion of the Father’s love for us. And I love how the Dustin puts it:
Bringing reconciliation
To a world that longs to know
The affections of a Father
Who will never let them go
Sinners in their plight are described here as not as evil or those with an excess of sinful desires, but as people who lack the fundamental experience of affection and being held tightly in love by their Heavenly Father. This reconciliation accomplished by Jesus Christ is the cause of our rejoicing. In Christ, we are truly loved by God.
The third verse speaks of the reality of living in a broken world. It speaks of the pain, suffering, and sickness that we are likely to experience in this life. For some, this suffering can be a daily experience. But, the verse ends with hope:
All our sickness, all our sorrows
Jesus carried up the hill
He has walked this path before us
He is walking with us stillTurning tragedy to triumph
Turning agony to praise
There is blessing in the battle
So take heart and stand amazed
Jesus is both our assurance of the Father’s affection and our comfort in times of suffering. It is not that our suffering is not real or painful, precisely the opposite. All of our suffering has been experienced by Christ––the God who remains with us in our suffering. We are reminded of Christ’s suffering. Through his death and resurrection, salvation and life were secured; God brought life out of death and light out of darkness.
The second chorus changes the words to speak directly to those who feel rejoicing to be too difficult. Through the pain and suffering, we can still rejoice for the Lord has heard our cries. We can rejoice, knowing that we are not alone in our suffering.
Rejoice, when you cry to Him He hears
Your voice, He will wipe away your tears
Rejoice, in the midst of suffering
He will help you sing
But what happens when you don’t feel like rejoicing?
I find that this song is best sung through gritted teeth. It has been in the worst of times rather than the best, that I have sung this song the loudest. It amazes me how many different situations I have heard, sang, and played ‘Rejoice’. I went to Mars Hill Church (Orange County) during its final years (You can read all about my experience here). Through all of the drama and scandal, through the deliberations of whether Mars Hill would continue after Driscoll, and through the decision to close and disband the Orange County church, I don’t think there a week where we didn’t sing ‘Rejoice’. And it wasn’t because we were in denial of the unhealthy culture or that it was the right decisions (though clarity certainly came with time). We weren’t singing ‘Rejoice; because we were full of joy or altogether hopeful for the future. Our church would close its doors permanently in just a few months. For the remainder of those months, we belted out that song week in and week out as an act of rebellion against what we were feeling. We needed to remind ourselves that our circumstances would not cause us to lose sight of what is important. We may have come to Mars Hill because of an edgy pastor, or their emphasis on community, or the fact that we started out in a night club, or the indie-rock worship bands, but we realised that none of that truly mattered. We sang ‘Rejoice’ to be reminded of what did matter: Jesus Christ. Though our earthly fathers and father-like figures may fail us (such as our pastors and spiritual mentors), the gospel reminds us that our heavenly Father has demonstrated his tender compassion towards us in Jesus Christ.
I remember singing ‘Rejoice’ at the next church I went to after Mars Hill closed. The wounds were still raw, but that song kept reminding me of God’s faithfulness in the midst of my pain. At that church, we went through difficulties, building changes, and even absorbed another congregation. Through it all, we sang ‘Rejoice’. Shortly after Brittany and I got engaged, we found out that her Dad had stage 4 cancer. A month later (only three months before our wedding), he passed away. Still, I remember singing this song through it all. During that season, I hated the song. What was there to rejoice about? And yet, every time it came to that third verse and it came to that second chorus, I would be reminded of where God was in all of this pain. He was right there beside me. The song became both my prayer and its proving ground: Lord, help me sing this song.
We sang ‘Rejoice” when we were packing up to move to England. Same church, same people, same song, but my experience was different. There were still tears in my eyes, but it was for all the happy memories I had shared with these people. The ending was bittersweet, but still, I could sing this song.
Then we came to England, found a new church and new friends. Still, we find ourselves singing this same song. They pronounce the words a bit differently and it certainly isn’t indie-rock, but its meaning remains as constant as God’s love and presence.
This Sunday, I get to once again sing ‘Rejoice’. Though our church cannot meet physically, we continue to gather online. You can tune in to our evening service, and watch Brittany, myself, Logan Williams and some friends lead worship. (Brittany and I spent many hours recording our respective parts and no doubt many more will be spent editing them into something useful)
It was quite surreal to reflect on this song while recording. I’ve played this song countless times in each of the circumstances I described above. Though the setup was different, the meaning was altogether the same. Even in the midst of a global pandemic, there is still an opportunity to rejoice. Our opportunity to rejoice does not have to come at the expense of our ability to mourn, grieve, or lament. Singing this song and others like it is not an attempt to minimise suffering but to maximise Jesus’ presence in it. We can rejoice in this season precisely because we can discover that in the midst of pain and suffering, our God is right there with us. In the face of loss and in our moment of anguished grief we can find our hope in the gospel.
Fittingly enough, our church is beginning a new sermon series through 1 Peter. Addressed to a dispersed Church (Which may aptly describe our situation during COVID-19), the author encourages his readers to hope in the midst of their own suffering and persecution. Speaking of Christ, he says,
Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
1 Peter 1:8-9
We may not be able to see Jesus in the flesh, but we can be assured that He is still present with us. He is present in our pain, in our isolation, our limitations, and our fears of what the future may hold. My prayer is that wherever you are and whatever circumstance you find self in, you may be able to sing this song and rejoice in quarantine.
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