Back in the days when the struggle for racial integration was at its height, black civil rights workers - called "freedom riders" - traveled from city to city on buses, challenging segregationist laws. Sometimes, they were greeted with violence. Often, they were arrested.

In one town, a bus was halted by police, and the freedom riders were arrested, booked, and jailed. While they were in the prison, the jailers did everything they could to make the freedom riders miserable and break their spirits. They deprived them of sleep by playing loud music all night. They oversalted the food. They took away their mattresses - one by one - hoping to create tension between the prisoners over those that remained.

Over time, the strategy began to work. Morale among the prisoners started to sag. Conflict between the prisoners broke out.

And that's when one of the freedom riders began to sing.

Softly at first. Just an old Negro spiritual. And slowly - one by one - other voices joined in until the whole group was singing at the top of their voices. When the guards heard the ruckus, they dashed into the cellblock only to find the place vibrating with a joyful Gospel song. And the prisoners were pushing the remaining mattresses through the bars and out of their cells, defiantly saying, "You can take our mattresses, but you can't take our souls!"

Tom Long observes, "… it was the hymn singers who were in jail, but it was the jailers who were guilty. It was the prisoners who were suffering, but the jailers who were defeated. It was the prisoners who were in the position of weakness, but it was the broken and bigoted world of the jailers and of all the other Pontius Pilates of history that was perishing."

Now I know that you've been watching the news. Reading the newspapers. Agonizing over the terrible tragedy at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado.

I know that you've been listening to the analysts. Experts on family life. Proponents of gun control. Advocates for the rights of gun owners. Movie producers. Sociologists. Psychologists. The politicians in Washington, DC.

But while you were watching and listening to the great cacophony of sight and sound emanating from the Littleton tragedy, I wonder….did you hear…the SONG being sung?

Our Scripture text this morning - from the little letter of First Peter - tells us something quite amazing about those who are members of the family of God. Chapter 2 and verse 9 explains why you and I are still here on this planet, in this difficult world. You see, if the reason for Christ's coming was just to save us and get us to heaven, God surely would have done just that already. It would not be beyond God's power to simply whisk us away into heaven to be with him - away from our troubles - fully alive to life - filled with joy - reunited with our loved ones - and in his beautiful presence - forever.

But that's not the way God chose to operate. Oh, no. God decided that, when people like you and I come to faith in Jesus Christ, we need to stay right here where we are. And First Peter 2:9 explains why. Listen:

We are here, in this strange and difficult world, to sing a song! We are here to sing the song of God in the midst of all the destructive, dehumanizing, debilitating, discordant noise in the world. We are here to sing a different song than Marilyn Manson sings…a different song than Wall Street sings…a different song than Washington sings…a different song than white supremacists sing!

And if you listened carefully as you watched the Littleton tragedy unfold, you could hear that different song being sung.

Cassie Bernall sang the song. A shotgun pressed to her face. "Do you believe in God?"

And there, in the burning crucible of the question every one of us faces about whether God can be trusted in life or in death, Cassie Bernall declared "Yes, I believe in Jesus." And a shot rang out. And it ended her journey here.

But it couldn't stop the music of the people of God.

Fifteen-year old Craig Scott sang the song. He was sitting between Isaiah Shoels and Matt Kechter in the library. Isaiah and Matt were both killed. Craig played dead, and later led a number of students to safety. Outside, he organized them into a prayer circle for the kids still inside. Fifteen years old! One of those kids still inside was his sister. She never came out. The next day, on the Today show, Craig was asked how he would ever make it through the unspeakable tragedy of his sister's death and the whole experience that day at Columbine.

Slowly, but firmly, this 15-year old boy answered, "With God's help."

The song of the people of God. We are called to be a chosen race of people in this tragic world…a royal priesthood of believers in this violent world…a holy nation of men and women in this dangerous world who dare to stand up and look the powers of darkness straight in the eye and declare the mighty acts of God in the hope that some dear person - caught in their own web of darkness, or disease, or despair - will find the light of Life.

The kids who for three hours pressed their own tee-shirts into the wounds of teacher Dave Sanders, trying vainly to stop the bleeding, sang the song too. Why, if anyone ever asks you, "What in the world has gotten into kids today?" I hope you'll remember the heroic faith of these children. And I hope you'll give a different answer to that question.

What has gotten into the kids today?

Well, I dare say, what evidently has gotten into some of them is a song!

A song about a God who is good and whose love people is greater than any love we can ever know. A song about a God who refuses to concede the world - or its children - to the demonic forces at work all around us. A song about a God whose goodness can be trusted even in the face of evil itself. A song about a God who is actively at work in our world calling people out of darkness and into his marvelous healing light.

When I went to serve my first church, my parishioners introduced me to a hymn I'd never heard before. Soon, it became one of my favorites. Its called "I Sing A Song of the Saints of God." Its words make me think about these kids, and about you and me. Listen to the words:

We live in a world that sometimes seems to be permeated and overtaken by the powers of darkness.

God is looking for people to sing about the Light.

Will you be one of those people?

I praise God for the children who sang in the darkness at Columbine High.

And I invite you to come and join the chorus of the saints of God.