Selah

No one knows for sure...

There is a word which appears often in the Psalms: “Selah.”

It seems to have a liturgical meaning, but no one knows for certain what the word means.

There are theories. Some think it means that when the poem was read or sung, there was a moment of silence at the end of the verse, “selah” indicates the pause. Most who hold this view believe that the word was not spoken, it just indicates the interlude.

Others think the word was a directive for musicians to play (or stop playing).

Some hold that it was a real word spoken by those in attendance, and it was a sort of blessing, like “amen," perhaps meaning “forever...”

Either way, it still remains in the Psalms, centuries after it was translated into Greek.

In older Bibles, The King James Version, or The Bishop’s Bible (the one Shakespeare would have read), "selah" was italicized.

No one is quite certain what it means, or what to do with it, but it seems important. It remains.

I’m reminded of two literary trivia tidbits regarding the word... I recall Starbuck says the word when he realizes Ahab, the monomaniacal tyrant of the Pequod, is bent on self destruction in his pursuit of Moby Dick.

The second is how it appears in Psalm 46 and that only by it not being spoken does it make the strange coincidence of that psalm work.

(In the King James Version of the Bible, the 46th psalm has been suggested by some to have been written [translated] by Shakespeare. He had nearly finished his career [only one play to go], was known to King James [Shakespeare’s acting troop was partly sponsored by the king], it was Shakespeare’s 46th birthday that year, the 46th word from the beginning is “shake” and the 46th word from the end [if you don’t read out the word “selah] is “spear.”)

No matter. Or perhaps it does matter...

At any rate, though the meaning has been lost to history, the word remains.

So, I suppose, it would be OK for me to accept any one of those interpretations. Or all of them.

A moment of silence.

An interlude of music.

A chorused “Forever...”

In my reflections of my faith, the nature of God, the nature of the universe, all those... silence, nature singing out, eternity with me always, “selah” seems a pleasant word.

The boys and I had dinner at the group home where Jeremiah will soon be living. Isaac seemed a little nervous over the other residents' handicaps, but Jeremiah grinned and warmed up to “Sherry,” the woman who fixed the meal and is one of those generous, loving motherly types.

On the drive home, Jeremiah asked if we could go back Saturday.

“I’m sorry buddy, but I have plans to help someone Saturday afternoon, and I have to do what I promised I would do.”

“That’s OK,” he said.

He looked at me sideways.

“Maybe you could take me there and I could hangout, and you could come back for me later?”

Wow.

Jeremiah’s fears about moving out have vanished. He actually wants to go there, even by himself.

Selah.