It's contagious--and spreads so quickly and quietly that at first you don't even notice it. I noticed it at the Synod Assembly that Pastor Chris and I attended these past few days. As 600 pastors and lay members of the more than 200 congregations of our Metropolitan Chicago Synod met to select a new bishop. As we met the contagion was demonstrated once again. Each time the delegates gathered for a plenary session there was background music playing until the Bishop called the session to order--familiar music--songs--melodies--favorite hymns. One session was called to order just as "Everytime I feel the Spirit" was playing -You know the tune (sing) "Every time I feel the Spirit, moving in my heart I will pray." When the plenary session recessed to go to meeting rooms for hearings I walked past one of the building maintenance personnel and heard him whistling softly under his breath (whistle)-Every time I feel the Spirit. After the hearings I went to the elevator heading for the dining room. As the elevator doors closed I heard someone in the back of the elevator begin to hum softly (hum) Every time I feel the Spirit. By the time we reached the dining floor level I am sure I heard the hymn in four part harmony--with descant--the contagion had spread. A tune that sticks in your head--a melody you can't seem to get rid of--a song you find yourself humming for no reason other than that it has become your song for the moment.
Today is Pentecost Sunday--a celebration in the Christian church of the birthday of the church--50 days after Easter the Advocate--the Spirit of God that moved first upon the face of the waters and brought forth creation--moved once more to fill the world--in the sound of a rushing wind and the burst of what looked like tongues of fire--the Spirit entered the lives of the disciples and broke forth into the world. What happened? According to the Acts text--attention centered on what was heard--I have a suspicion that what was heard by the people on the street was not the rushing wind that Luke describes. What people heard on the streets below the room where the disciples had gathered was a different sound--an inspired sound. Inspired--a great word--quite literally to be "in the spirit"--filled with the spirit--the creative spirit--the athletic spirit--to have your soul lifted--touched--warmed--filled. When the spirit moved upon the disciples how did they respond? I suspect it was in the way that the Jewish community has always responded. When Israel was delivered from the Egyptians by crossing through the waters of the Red Sea we are told Miriam sang an ancient song and all of Israel with her--When David led the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem for the first time declaring the city his capital and the holiest of cities he danced with joy as songs of praise were sung. Even on the night that Jesus was betrayed the disciples joined with him in singing a hymn of praise--So when the Spirit of God moves to birth the church there must have been music--there had to be song. A song begun softly--sung at first by only a few moved by the Spirit, but then building as more voices joined in--inspired--filled by the spirit--the joy of the music filled the room--the smiles of enlightened faces found voice growing louder and louder --more enthusiastic and spilling out of the upper room--down the stairs and into the street--singing and chanting--clapping and praising God--drunk with the Spirit was the clarification Peter announced--It was a song that stuck in their hearts and minds--Others hearing the tune were captured by the words--they heard in the music of the Gospel the language of all hearts--the harmony of words--the varied songs of the searching soul.
Today is not only Pentecost Sunday but also Church Music Sunday here at Holy Spirit--a celebration of the place that music plays in our worship life. This is a day of thanksgiving for those who share their gifts of voice and musical talent to the glory of God--but more important it is also a day when we celebrate the enduring contagion of God's word--of the creation song--of the redemptive cry--the promise of the Spirit's presence in our lives. Every time we have a song stuck in our heads--every time we hear someone humming--someone whistling--we should be reminded that here is the continuing proof of God's presence in the world. The order of our world--the meaning to the music--they are all one and the same--a gift from God. To be sure--there are those things that bring discord into our lives--the church recognizes it as sin--but the people of God are a people called and gathered to sing God's praises--so God provides for us the right notes--the grace notes--God gives us the full harmonies to support us when things don't sound or feel or go so well. God gives us the opportunity to discover new songs of grace and joy. The Spirit moves--stirs us to song--not just in worship but in all that we do--the Gospel stuck in our hearts and minds.We are a people blessed by music. We are part of a church--the Lutheran Church--which has always loved its music--whether the song was by Bach or some traditional gospel tune--we love our music. A few weeks back Garrison Keilor--an aspiring Minnesota saint--made this observation about "singing with Lutherans" on his weekly public radio broadcast. Keilor said: "I have made fun of Lutherans for years--who wouldn't if you lived in Minnesota? But I have also sung with Lutherans and that is one of the main joys of life, along with hot baths and fresh sweet corn. We make fun of Lutherans for their blandness, their excessive calm, their fear of giving offense, their constant guilt that burns like a pilot light, their lack of speed and also for their secret fondness for macaroni and cheese. But nobody sings like them. If you ask an audience in New York City, a relatively "Lutheranless" place, to sing along the chorus of "Michael Row the Boat Ashore" they will look daggers at you as if you had asked them to strip to their underwear. But if you do this among Lutherans, they'll smile and row that boat ashore and up on the beach and down the road! Lutherans are bred from childhood to sing in four-part harmony. It's a talent that comes from sitting on the lap of someone singing alto or tenor or bass and hearing the harmonic intervals by putting your little head against the person's rib cage. It's natural for Lutherans to sing in harmony. We're too modest to be soloists--too worldly to sing in unison. When you're singing in the key of C and you slide into the A7th and D7th chords, all two hundred of you, it's an emotionally fulfilling moment. I once sang the bass line of "Children of the Heavenly Father" in a room with about three thousand Lutherans in it, and when we finished we all had tears in our eyes, partly from the promise that God will not forsake us, partly from the proximity of all those lovely voices. By our joining in harmony, we somehow promise that we will not forsake each other. I do believe this: people, these Lutherans, who love to sing in four-part harmony are the sort of people you could call up when you're in deep distress. If you're dying, they'll comfort you. If you're lonely, they'll talk to you. And if you're hungry, they'll give you tuna salad"and maybe some jello.
Today is Pentecost Sunday--a day when the song
began to spread--contagion--a melody of grace that is stuck in
all the baptized--and spreading into the world. Sometimes that
tune just sticks in your head--Every time I feel the Spirit
Amen.