Responsible Release

Psalm 13:6 -- "I will sing to the lord, because He has dealt bountifully with me."

Horns blaring, sun blazing, and feet tapping - there can be nothing but a smile one one's face when the rhythm picks up as the funeral procession rounds the black topped Bourbon Street of New Orleans in Live And Let Die. Not a favorite James Bond film of mine, but certainly one I've seen over and over as "Bond Week" plays through [yet again] at the Dalton house.

Live and Let Die (1973) Eon Productions

It might seem strange to dance and celebrate while on the way to inter a loved one at the cemetery, but in this unique New Orleans tradition - it's kind of a beautiful way to let go. There was a time for the tears. The melancholy dirge slowly leaking out of the band instruments just prior to the segue into an upbeat and dance-worthy rhythm gave us our much needed moments to shed tears. We were provided a sad bar or two of slow music through which to feel the deep loss of someone near and dear to our heart. But, life [or the music in this case] must go on. Our loved one would want us to celebrate the living moments we were able to share together. True, to some it might seem a tad unrealistic for us to attempt to encapsulate the many stages of grief and such deep emotion into the span of just one song. But a real old fashioned New Orleans funeral does remind us that there is a rhythm and flow to each life event. Even the sad ones. After all - April showers really do bring about May flowers, and the most beautiful rainbows really do form after the most horrific of storms.

But come on. Dancing? At a funeral?

Indeed.

Would you believe that King David worshiped after he'd been informed that his first son by Bathsheba was dead?

Tis true. For days just prior to his son's death David wept. Fasted. Moaned. Begged. But when the baby actually died David got up and changed his clothes. Cleaned himself up and ate a good hot meal.

Now doesn't that just beat all?

When asked about his apparent strange behavior David explained that while the infant was still living he could hope for change - a different outcome than the inevitable. But once his son had breathed his last breath, there was no going backward. No amount of sadness or deep emotion would bring the baby back to him.

And here is the amazing part - after such devastating loss, David made himself presentable to God and worshiped Him. He didn't storm about pouting or raise a fist up toward heaven and shout at God in boiling anger. We know, just as David did, that God could have saved the tiny baby. But when He didn't, David let it go. He let his tiny baby boy go.

I'm just amazed by this. I have the horrible habit of hanging on -- to EVERYTHING, it sometimes seems. Old greeting cards, old books, old cameras - and yes, old hurt and old anger, too.

We shouldn't ignore our pain. We shouldn't even ignore our anger for then, we might not learn anything - but neither should we let these things rot and fester deep within us. There IS a time be responsible and release it all into God's more than capable and much stronger hands.

There really is a great deal to be said of the musical switch from the sadness to the gladness we witness in the New Orleans jazz funeral procession. I'll never look at Live And Let Die the same way again.

NOTE: wanna know more about New Orleans jazz funerals? Check out http://www.neworleansonline.com/neworleans/multicultural/multiculturaltraditions/jazzfuneral.html