This is a song (my third favorite on Divine Intervention) with a checkered history.
The tune and refrain came to me very powerfully, but I wasn’t as clear about what shape the lyrics should take. Unlike most of my songs, I found myself rewriting the lyrics extensively on “The Hand of God,” over and over again, from vague imagery to extremely specific ballad to I don’t even know what.
And it just wasn’t working. I could feel a great deal of power hiding in there somewhere, but I wasn’t sure how to pull it out.
I finally realized that the reason I couldn’t figure what the song was about was because I didn’t know what the story it grew out of was about, either. This was another of my original pieces, and I had changed the title, changed the setting, changed the theme, changed the plot line so many times in trying to “make it work” that I was left in pretty much the same situation as with the song — power roiling around untapped while I had only a messy lump of manuscript to show for it.
So I decided to reverse the process. Instead of letting the story guide the song, I would let the song guide the story. I let the “story” of the song tell itself the way it wanted to, without worrying about anything I’d thought before in relation to the story.
In the same way that I sometimes wrote a song about something bigger and better than the inspiration suggested, I would let the song show me what the story ought to be.
I got 99% of the lyrics down in this way. There was still one line in the last verse that I couldn’t quite nail — I sang different words each time, trying to find the image that fit best.
When I sang the song in public for the first time, I still didn’t know which lyric I was going to use. To my amazement, the line “while faith rots us like salt rots the land” (a line I had never even thought before) simply fell out of my mouth while I was singing. It was almost eerie, but it was the way this song has always worked.
Later that night, a friend told me that she had heard several people on an elevator talking about the song. It seems they had left the filksing in a fury, offended by the subject matter of the song, angry that I would so vocally attack Christianity at a science fiction convention where openness and acceptance were supposed to be the rule.
I was shocked. I hadn’t been thinking about Christianity when I wrote the song — hadn’t been thinking about any existing religion, in fact, only about the obviously ill-conceived and alien traditions of the world I’d created in my fiction. “The Hand of God” wasn’t intended as any sort of veiled criticism of any particular religion, but rather one character’s specific reaction to a particular set of people and events.
“The Hand of God” was also the only song where the volume of my voice became an issue again, however briefly. There’s a wild crescendo in the last refrain that’s also coupled with my going up a third in pitch. I told Henry the sound engineer, “We might need to be careful here — I get really loud.”
Henry assured me blithely, “That’s okay. We’ll be fine.”
Michael pitched in, “It gets really loud, Henry,” and Henry said again, “Don’t worry about it, it’s okay. Just let ‘er rip.”
So I let ‘er rip. And when I hit the crescendo in the vocal booth, two rooms away, I could just make out Henry throwing himself over the mixing board the way soldiers throw themselves over live grenades.
Needless to say, we had to redo that section.
lyrics
You stood simply regal, all shadow and ire,
More distance between us than that of the fire.
For difference is wrong and I’m different from you,
And you’ll crush what you can’t understand.
You’ve taught me that sheltered we’re destined to stay;
You claim that it’s right we should cower this way.
For Man must never question what Nature has planned.
You said it was all by God’s Hand.
And we’re all in the hands now of God —
From here on, mere mortals have failed.
No matter the cost or the cause,
The strength of the Lord must prevail.
He shows us the wrong and the right,
Forbids us to speak and forbids us to fight,
Protects us from Dangers aprowl through the night,
For we’re all in the hands now of God, now of God.
We’re all in the hands now of God.
We’re just two-legged rabbits, hid safe underground,
Afraid to admit that we’ve long since been found.
If we ignore death, it just might go away
And leave us back where we began.
Just deny any questions outside a small range;
Feel safe all our lives, for our lives cannot change;
We’ll be told if it matters that we understand,
And be led to the end by God’s Hand.
So behold here the triumph God’s wisdom has won —
Behold here the damage that can’t be undone!
Stagnation is good, and we’re good to the core
While faith rots us like salt rots the land.
If your God helps the helpless, may He help you all well.
I am bound for the Outside to find my own hell.
If defiance means death, I would die before stand
Like a sheep to be thrown to God’s Hand.
But we’re all in the hands now of God —
From here on mere mortals have failed.
No matter the cost or the cause,
The strength of the Lord must prevail.
He shows us the wrong and the right,
Forbids us to speak and forbids us to fight.
But I’ll no longer run from the sounds in the night.
Leave it all in the hands now of God, now of God.
We’re all in the hands now of God.
supported by 6 fans who also own “The Hand of God”
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