Untouchable Song

Untouchables are everywhere. In India and Nepal people in the lowest ranking caste are known as untouchables. They are called the Dalits. The Dalits have little chance of moving into the four castes of higher status above them. Their social status is one of shame.

In mathematics an untouchable number is an integer that cannot be expressed as the sum of all the proper divisors or any other integer. Five is an untouchable number. This is a mystery to me as a former psych major in college. I can’t explain why 5 is untouchable, it is beyond my ability to comprehend. It’s as mysterious as the Lord.

In sports the term untouchable can refer to a stellar athlete that is above and beyond the best. Michael Phelps, with his long flipper like stature of 6 feet four inches has won 23 gold medals (28 total) making him the most embellished olympic athlete of our time. In the sport of basketball, the game I grew up worshipping, an untouchable shooter is someone who was on fire or had a hot hand that couldn’t be stopped or defended from scoring that game. Michael Jordan took on this label many times in his career. Both have left legacies upon their craft, as untouchable athletes. I did not.

A song is a work of music. It is art with a human voice including distinct patterns and pitches, sometimes using silence or repetition to express meaning. It is many sounds coming together to make beauty and harmony. A song can be rhythmic done in unison or it can be noise. It must have an author, a perfecter, a composer. The composer writes in hopes of creating a masterpiece.

For our family that composer is the Lord Jesus. He is writing the song of our heart as we live out the daily story He has tuned, trusting that He is making a magnum opus out of us. We all have a God-story to tell. I’m tracing ours as an act of worship to Him. As a former untouchable His song of unique redemption and hope needs to be told. Having one of three sons whose mind and body is often untouchable or out of reach like the number 5, I need to be reminded of God’s inextinguishable grace and divine plan. I start each day one note at a time asking Him to give me a lullaby to sing on this day and this time in history. I write because I want to sing His melody. Join our family in our chorus of worship.

To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David.
I waited patiently for the LORD;
he inclined to me and heard my cry.

He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.

He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear,
and put their trust in the LORD.

(Psalm 40:1–3 ESV)