「除了從地上買來的那十四萬四千人以外，沒有人能學這歌。」－啟示錄14:3
這種歌發自於心，這種歌是記憶之歌、是經歷之歌；這種歌帶人走出過去的陰影，也帶人躍登在昨日的翅膀上，向前飛翔。
使徒約翰說，天上有一種歌，只能被地上的人唱得完全，那就是救贖的歌。
這也是一首勝利的歌，是一首頌讚基督使我們得著自由的歌。然而，如今歡樂的得勝，全都營聚自過去的枷鎖。
因此，我的心啊！你正從父那裡學習天上的歌，藉此你才得以加入天上的唱詩班。
在這屬天的詩班中，有一個獨特的聲部將由你擔綱；天使唱不出小調旋律，他們只能唱出高亢燦爛的高音；唯有你，才能唱出那些最深邃悠遠的低音。
為了唱出天使所無法唱出的聲部，天父將你擺在充滿憂患的音樂學院。
有人說，憂患是為了使我們夠資格；其實，神賜憂患的目的，是為了培育我們，使我們得以高歌。
黑夜裡，祂為你預備了詩歌；我的心啊，不要輕看了憂患的學校；因為唯有經歷憂患，你才能獨一無二。－馬特孫
山谷中，祂使你的音準毫無暇疵；
烏雲來時，祂使你的和絃穩固；
風雨交加時，祂圓潤了你的嗓音；
天寒地凍中，祂使你的表情深刻；
憂懼驚恐時，祂令你光芒四射。
"And no man could learn that song but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth" (Rev. 14:3).There are songs which can only be learned in the valley. No art can teach them; no rules of voice can make them perfectly sung. Their music is in the heart. They are songs of memory, of personal experience. They bring out their burden from the shadow of the past; they mount on the wings of yesterday.
St. John says that even in Heaven there will be a song that can only be fully sung by the sons of earth--the strain of redemption. Doubtless it is a song of triumph, a hymn of victory to the Christ who made us free. But the sense of triumph must come from the memory of the chain.
No angel, no archangel can sing it so sweetly as I can. To sing it as I sing it, they must pass through my exile, and this they cannot do. None can learn it but the children of the Cross.
And so, my soul, thou art receiving a music lesson from thy Father. Thou art being educated for the choir invisible. There are parts of the symphony that none can take but thee.
There are chords too minor for the angels. There may be heights in the symphony which are beyond the scale--heights which angels alone can reach; but there are depths which belong to thee, and can only be touched by thee.
Thy Father is training thee for the part the angels cannot sing; and the school is sorrow. I have heard many say that He sends sorrow to prove thee; nay, He sends sorrow to educate thee, to train thee for the choir invisible.
In the night He is preparing thy song. In the valley He is tuning thy voice. In the cloud He is deepening thy chords. In the rain He is sweetening thy melody. In the cold He is moulding thy expression. In the transition from hope to fear He is perfecting thy lights.
Despise not thy school of sorrow, O my soul; it will give thee a unique part in the universal song. --George Matheson
