Seventh Easter
Church Music Sunday
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26; I John 5:9-13; John 17:6-19
It is probably fairly safe to assume that most everyone in the
congregation knows what a CD is—Originally called compact disks their name
has long since been shortened to CD—they have replaced the vinyl albums
of my younger days—and are rapidly replacing the remains of cassette tapes—A
growing number of car radios now come only with a cd player and not the previously
familiar cassette player. Further, if you live in a house with at least one
adolescent and have a computer that was purchased sometime in maybe the last
two years you also know what a CD burner is—A method to make your own CD
of music taken either from another cd or off the internet. (This is really not
a new phenomena since I remember making cassette tape collections of songs from
my favorite albums or recorded off the radio.)
As I sat down to write this sermon I encountered on one corner of the desk a stack of burned CD’s—the personal mixes that had various names on them written in permanent marker indicating either the maker or nature of the CD—they read Andrew’s Mix—Kelly’s CD—Winter Mix 2—Carrie’s Oldies—Happy Valentine’s Day mix—and one that I may need to listen to later entitled “I love you and miss you always hunn mix” (which I assume is probably a country western collection.) If you have adolescents in your house you know that you cannot get into a car without encountering CDs scattered on the seat and tucked over head in the visor—It is rare today to see a teen with a back pack that does not contain a wire running from the pack to their ears—the world is filled with CDs—and that means music. Everyone today can have not only their own song but their own cd—that collection of music that is them. This caused me to remember that time honored late night discussion topic of many a dorm room—If you were to be stranded on a deserted island with the music of only five musicians—who would you pick. This, of course, always led to the debate between the quality of popular versus classical music—Should the list include the Beatles, Elvis, Willie Nelson, Garth Brooks and Simon and Garfunkel or Bach, Beethoven, Handel, Brahms and maybe Verdi—or maybe there should be opera—to which a younger generation might add Dave Matthews, Norah Jones or even Evanescence.
What sounds we would choose to accompany us into the world—this is the very center of the Gospel lesson for today. Our lesson continues what is known as the high priestly prayer that Jesus offered for his disciples at the close of his time with them—It is a prayer that identifies too clearly the challenge we each face as disciples in the world. Jesus knew that it would not be easy for us. The separation of church and state—the distinction between worldly priorities and those of our Christian calling—these are echoes of the distinction Jesus named when he declared that those who follow him do not belong to the world. It is not that as Christians we are not in the world—but we do not belong to the world. God has claimed us through our baptism for something more—the mix of sounds that are to make up God’s world is intended to be different from the noise of the world. On a Sunday that especially celebrates the gift of music in our worship we are reminded that God calls us to hear different harmonies—discern changed melodies. The music of our day is intended to bring us together as one body in Christ—crossing distinctions of age—class—race—even musical taste. It is an opening of the self to the spirit’s leading in much the same way as the disciples opened themselves to the Spirit of God leading them to find a twelfth disciple. Jesus repeats that we are to be sanctified—that means made holy—by the power of the spirit uniting us in word—sacrament—and the fellowship of worship—In a peculiarly simple way this is demonstrated in the singing of songs together.
The church is a place where we do things we otherwise would never do—Think about it—All week long we segregate people by age—children go to the appropriate grades in school—adults work in companies and offices clustered usually by age and experience—even volunteers usually self select into groups that have only token variety. But on Sunday morning we invite all ages to gather in one place to worship—and we embrace the possibility of sharing together a song—sung together. To sing—to sing with other people—in public—this is really no small thing.. When I think of people singing together in public only two places come to mind—one is a sporting event. Probably the most common place to sing with other people in these United States is standing and singing our National Anthem—Only judging by the sounds I have heard (or not heard) at the start of football or baseball games I would say we are increasingly a people unable to sing together—the sound is more like a mass mumble—The only exception is perhaps a 7th inning stretch at Wrigley Field to the rousing strains of “Take me out to the ball game” (but everything about Wrigley Field is a bit unreal to the rest of the world.) Outside of sporting events about the only other place where people are invited to sing together is the church Perhaps an equally unreal environment—clearly removed from the ordinary routines of the world To sing—to be in harmony with others—in song. I remember growing up in a world where every child sang We were taught that there are songs that reflected and in some cases defined a generation or period of history. From protest songs to songs of conflict—from music of romance to hymns of faith—the music of a people echoes through history some of the most remembered sung in the midst of great conflict.—Civil War songs hoping for Johnny to come marching home—World War One songs that kept the caissons rolling along—and the Second World War waited for the lights to come on again all over the world. Each generation has had music that would be argued to be their music—yet music which also allowed later generations to feel something from a different period of time. But increasingly we are becoming a people who do not sing in public.
When was the last time you were invited to sing with someone at work—or even at play. We have become an entertainment oriented people—waiting for the professional to step up and sing for us—that’s how most of us experience the Star Spangled Banner these days—sung by a professional. Many churches have also found that choirs are no longer possible—going to music teams and song leaders to sing for the people. Generations of children growing up with records and radios, tapes and CD’s no longer know how or desire to sing together—The church is one of the few places where we encourage people to participate—where you are still welcome to sing out—“If God gave you that voice then God must think it’s all right” who cares what your neighbor thinks—at least for the hymns—And if the harmonies you create are not musical in tone then seek the pitch that works for you—discover the ways you can create new chords of fellowship—service or sharing. Music is apart of who we are—and the mix is not just supposed to be in melodies—God’s word calls us to invest our whole being into the song of creation—to find our part to sing or serve or share in some way. Jesus said that even as we sing the songs of the world—we know that there are greater harmonies that embrace us—set us free. I pulled up to the red light at Riverwoods and 22 the other day—that means I had plenty of time to look around—In the car next to me I watched a young lady clearly singing along with her radio—she was bouncing to the tune and throwing her whole self into the music—she was having a great time until she happened to look over at me and noticed me staring—she stopped literally in mid syllable—her mouth wide open—her head partially tipped back.—She had been in harmony with something that embraced her whole being until by chance my look had entered in—something foreign entered her joy—and suddenly she wasn’t sure if she should keep on singing. I wanted to roll down my window and ask her what song she was listening too—it looked too good to miss out on—but the light changed and she pulled away. She had been so in harmony with a wholeness that transcended the traffic congestion and burdens of the day—music—song had taken her there. A gift of the Spirit.
Music creates for us a new world—a place
of our new harmonies. And each Sunday is an opportunity to share together something
that eludes the world—a moment when the spirit and the body find wholeness—harmony.
What if the question was not what five musicians would you take with you to
the deserted island—but which five hymns would you choose to sustain your
spirit in the wilderness of life. Would your selections be Sunday school songs—Christmas
hymns—or Easter praises? Would there be the hymn we remember from a certain
funeral? Music defines the moments of our faith as much as our lives. Some would
no doubt be adamant about the hymns they would not pick— We all know that
Pastor Chris would not choose “How Great Thou Art” But which hymns
would you include as witness to you faith? This morning is Church Music Sunday
A time to reflect upon the gift of music and its meaning for our faith. I invite
you to think hard on the hymns that have had meaning for you—And take a
few minutes to reflect on their place in your faith journey—the reminder
that we do not belong to the world. The hymn selection sheet provided this morning
will allow us to list the hymns we would take with us into the deserted places
of our lives—and beyond into the joys of life. The CD mixes keep changing—God
reveals to us new songs to share and old tunes to remember—The mix of faith
is the promise of the sanctified song—the life made holy by God’s
grace and the Spirit’s singing. Each Sunday is an invitation to let the
music begin again.
Amen.