Here I will stop and rest awhile

Today I have been restlessly poking away at a number of things that need doing. And it dawned on me: I haven’t had days like this in quite a while. Plenty to do, but nothing urgent; much undone, but no pressing deadlines; a world of new things to begin, but a little low on the energy to get started.

Today I realize that having now officially sent my thesis to my readers, my restlessness has to do with the removal of the elephant from the room. I have resisted “writing my thesis in public” through this blog. Writing is something I can and must do, and my thesis will almost certainly show up in these posts. Not serialized, but in bits and pieces as I reflect on various aspects of my study, and as I explore some of the tangents I’ve had to ignore in order to finish the business at hand.

Imagine my surprise during this ennui to find that exactly six months ago today, I began to write my thesis. It was the single step of a journey. Today I find myself far down that road. I have stopped at oases along the way. I’ve had to turn back a couple of times. I may have fallen asleep in a field of poppies once or twice. But today I am waiting at the city gates. I’ve sent word to the man behind the curtain. Will I gain entry?

Six months of writing, editing, listening, talking, questioning, and doubting – now behind me. Ahead of me: the anxious waiting for my readers’ responses; the unknown work that will certainly the follow those responses; the challenge of re-working material for use in other settings and formats.

But for now, with the weak November sun shining in a quiet and lovely house, I am quietly if restlessly celebrating an arrival. It’s not the end of the journey, but it’s a good resting place. My first day of writing produced 80 words. I promised not to write this thing in public. But since today brings some closure, and with the tidy symmetry of exactly 6 months, here I offer the final 80 words I wrote.

. . . I have attempted to answer that question with reference to just one cantata. I believe that by bringing together an introduction to Pietism and current musicological perspectives on Bach, I have laid some groundwork for the study of other pietistic cantatas. Beyond that I hope to recast discussions about what music is accomplishing in Christian worship, and to demonstrate that the music we write and select for worship shapes a congregation’s theological understanding of the texts we sing and hear.

Oh, and for the record: those first 80 words did remain, nearly intact, as the opening of my first chapter!

Two Rehearsals

One year after my last day on staff at College Church, I had the privilege of sitting in on the Chancel Choir rehearsal this past Thursday. I had been invited to come, sing, and give the evening devotional. It was such a lovely privilege, and such a pleasure to sit with friends and sing. Over the years, I would occasionally stop rehearsal and say, "You know, I'd really like to sing with this choir!"

Then, two days later, I also had the privilege of standing in front of another church choir in the area. My friend Mary had invited me to begin her monthly Saturday rehearsal with a devotional, and then lead warm-ups. I also sat in on that rehearsal, and enjoyed a different mix of repertoire - from yesterday's anthem (Mendelssohn), to the Reformation Sunday anthem, to some items for Lessons and Carols.

How delightful that here in October, though I am not in or in front of a church choir, I still got to sing Christmas music!

Anyway, here is the devotional message I brought to these faithful choristers this week . . .

Choir Devotions

October 2013

Romans 15:5-6

If sometimes St. Paul seems a little foreboding, a bit too technical, I like to remember that he often seems to get carried away in Doxology. You’ll know what I mean – those moments when at the end – or even in the middle – of a dense theological argument, he can’t help himself: he breaks out in praise. Or, as in the book of Romans, when he comes several times to pronounce a benediction . . .  but then there’s more.  Let’s look at one of those benedictions.

Romans 15:5-6

May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

I just want to look at how this benediction sits in chapter 15. It draws together a number of ideas from the opening verses, and packages them in a memorable benediction. And isn’t that what benedictions – “good words” – do?

The God of endurance and encouragment – how do we know God this way? Verse 4, just before the benediction says: whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. The record is there: God has spoken, and the Word is both encouraging and the source of our endurance.

The God of endurance and encouragement bestows, as a gift, life in harmony with one another. May God . . . grant you to live in such harmony with one another . . . When we head off to college, or send our children off, most of us require some financial aid. We expect to be offered student loans, but we look for grants! The grant is a gift – in our case, here in verse 5, the gift that God bestows is the grace of living in harmony.

[lovely word, harmony; and an unavoidable, certainly intentional, musical metaphor. The ancient view of music was that it was a reflection of divine order. The unheard “music of the spheres” was thought to be seen also in harmonious – consonant – human life, personal but especially social]

This life together is the theme of the opening verses of chapter 15: bear with others’ weaknesses, do not please ourselves, look for the good of our neighbors, build up others. These are all overwhelming injunctions, unless we recoginze that it is just this that God has granted – to live in harmony.

This grace – the granting – is through and in Jesus; as such it is in accord with Christ Jesus, who (verse 3 has already said) did not please himself but as it is written, “the reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me.” [Ps 69:9] As Jesus lived (and died) for others, to please the Father, so the life the Father has granted all his children is lived for others, to please the Father.

It is true of all the gifts of grace: the impact of grace is on the whole family – body – church, so that together you may glorify . . .  Verse 2 shows us what that together looks like, pleasing our neighbors, for their good, building them up.

so that together you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

           

Endure

Encourage

Glorify

These are not solo efforts, but our work together; together with Christ (in accord with him) and together as God’s people. “We” (verses 1 and 4), “each of us” (verse 2), “our” (v. 4), “one another” (v. 5), the plural “you” is all over this passage.

            We do not endure alone

            We cannot encourage ourselves

            In this instance, at least, it requires all of us, together, to glorify God

We love one another . . .  in this chapter, in verse 7, love is expressed in the word “welcome” . . .  Therefore, welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you. We love one another as Christ has loved each of us, for the glory of God. This is the heart of our work, whatever we do. It is no less the heart of our choral work. And laboring together, enduring together, encouraging one another, loving one another, we glorify God first in rehearsal. And then again along with those who gather in this place for worship, we have the privilege of Enduring, Encouraging, and Glorifying the God who in Christ Jesus has loved us.

So, as you live this out today and in the weeks to come, laboring with and for one another, hear these words of the next Benecition (but not the final one!) in Romans, chapter 15:13:

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

Amen

Rationalism and Liturgy

I am barreling down to my self-imposed thesis submission deadline. All along the way, this fairly focused study has offered up many opportunities for rabbit-trails, tangents, and distractions. Some of the “side bar” details show up in footnotes. Some show up on a list of ideas I’d like to explore post-thesis. This past week, something I read stopped me in my tracks.

Outside the scope of my thesis, but very much behind the motive for my thesis, I have had this nagging feeling that in the church generally (that is, the kind of churches I have served) we have a suspicion of the Enlightenment world view; specifically, we reject (or at least distrust)

* the human subject as the center of our studies –

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan.

The proper study of mankind is man.

Alexander Pope

* scientific materialism – only what can be measured is what is real

* physical causation – if one cannot “connect the dots” then one cannot know

* empiricism – knowledge comes only, or primarily, from sensory experience

The Romantic layer to the Enlightenment is seen in the cult of “Genius,” and the triumph of sensuality (meaning, at one level, the celebration of the senses, though of course this resulted/results in a heightened focus on sexuality). I would point, again, to the delightful Evening in the Palace of Reason for a very readable account of the conflict of this world view (represented by Frederick the Great) with that of the Reformation (represented by J. S. Bach).

So, anyway, when set out like this, we tend to say that the Enlightenment – the door into Modernity – was not, in the end, a friend to the Church.

And yet, it has seemed increasingly clear, to me, that in one area, in one arena, in one field – namely, music –  the Church (mirroring our culture) has embraced both the Enlightened and Romantic world view. The most evident manifestation of this embrace is the claim that music is incapable of containing meaning, it is not interpretable; music is neutral, or amoral; and so music itself (i.e. without words) is insignificant. It doesn’t matter what music we choose for the words we sing; it’s all a matter of taste, or (worse) preference.

Let me interject that I am not (here) arguing against that conclusion. I simply offer the previous paragraph as a précis of my reading of “the problem of music in the church.” Yes, this is one of the Big Ideas I want to follow up post-thesis. It may well be that even if everything else about the 18^th and 19^th century philosophies were questionable, the conclusions about music would be valid. In that case to argue against this conclusion re. music would be ad hominem: “that can’t be right, because it comes from a source whose character is questionable.”

Still, this is the way I think, and I realize I need to do more work on it. But, with that in mind, imagine my surprise when in my reading last week I came across the following:

In his ground-breaking study, Johann Sebastian Bach and Liturgical Life in Leipzig, Günther Stiller portrays the vibrant Lutheran church life in 17^th century Leipzig. Old churches were restored, worship services included catechistic features, attendance exploded, the number of communicants at Holy Communion swelled. This was the condition of the churches in Bach’s time there (1723 – 1750). At the same time, in Bach’s day, the clergy were coming under the influence on the Enlightenment. It is fair to say that some of Bach’s conflicts with church leaders and city fathers rose out of this changing world view, particularly as it related to music and the liturgy. What happened in the second half of the century? Based solely on the attendance figures at Holy Communion, during the period 1785-1815, when the churches were superintended by Johann Georg Rosenmüller, who “always tried to introduce the worshipers to the ideas of the Enlightenment.” (158). During this time participation in Holy Communion dropped from thousands (annually) to less than 100.

What happened during that time? The historic liturgy was gradually shortened, then parts of it were eliminated, in favor of longer sermons. The role of the service was instruction, and what did not serve that purpose was minimized or excised. Even the reading of scripture at the center of the liturgy was curtailed. During that time, a vibrant culture of multiple weekday services gradually diminished, total attendance across the city went into steep decline, people stayed away from church. Stiller notes: Nothing else but the figures provided can so clearly show to what an extent rationalism had a negative effect on the Leipzig liturgical practice and a disastrous influence that eventually – which means even now [1970] – led to a real “neglect of Communion.” It is apparent that Lutheran orthodoxy is in no way to be blamed for this misfortune, but rationalism alone. (165-166)

Don't get me wrong - I never argue against preaching at the center of Christian worship. But now I have another theme to explore regarding the church and the Rationalism. Is the dominance of the sermon to the exclusion of other, congregational, participational, expressive elements of the service also a legacy of the Enlightenment? And, is that OK? (By which I mean, does that square with the rich New Testament evidence about gathered worship?)

And then, here’s the real stinger, for me. Eleven years into this “reform” of the Leipzig churches, one of the preachers noted: “Our city churches have in recent years registered smaller attendance than previously,” and proposed that this was . . .

wait for it . . .

due to the use of the old hymnbook.

There is nothing new about church life. Ever.

Silent Night at Slippery Rock

Last weekend I went to my first Big Ten football game. A musician friend and I saw Michigan play in the “Big House.” In order to take it all in, we drove over the night before and stayed in the farmhouse which has been in my family for exactly 100 years. It was fun to introduce a friend to some family history there.

I had no idea that the next day would also be steeped in tradition. Which just means that I wasn’t thinking about it. Because, without tradition, sport can’t sustain itself.

And what a glorious tradition! From the pre-game show played by the marching band drum line, to the voice of Michigan football (Chicago classical music announcer Carl Grapentine), the Star Spangled Banner, the marching band cum pep band, the honoring of celebrated Michigan athletes . . . Something like six hours of tradition-rich experience.

Well, and for the students, it begins earlier. By the time we were on campus, it was crawling with students. Dance music blared from porch roofs and front yards. Students were decked out in team colors, swarming the campus neighborhoods. This started well before 9am . . . on a Saturday. And they occupied a huge section of the stadium – a solid mass of Michigan maize.

Because I don’t watch televised sports (which people mistake for disinterest) just about everything about the Big House event was new to me. When the opposing team is in a fourth down situation, the band plays the old popular standard, “Temptation.” Wha?!? The marching band takes the field in the same way they did back when I was a lad. (That is to say, when TV still showed the half-time shows.) When the announcer gave scores of other Saturday games, one event, which had not yet begun, elicited a roar from the students: Shippensburg v. Slippery Rock. Again: Wha?!? I didn’t even know that these are actual schools. And there’s a fun story behind this, the gist of which is that Slippery Rock scores are announced at every Michigan game. After the game the band took the field again, to play highlights from their show, to the opposite side of the stadium from which they performed earlier. That post-game show was abridged, but then included three traditional marching band classics: “Temptation” in its full arrangement, “Hawaiian War Chant,” and the university Alma Mater.

I thought of these things in the days following, whilst preparing a lecture for Taylor University church music students: “Integrating Tradition into Contemporary Culture.” I realized that students – no less than all of us – are surrounded by traditions in all arenas of our lives. In fact, Taylor athletics also have a basketball tradition that I would love to experience. It is their “Silent Night,” a December home game during which the Taylor crowd is completely silent until the 10^th point is scored.

These athletic traditions provided a neat introduction into my topic. We don’t need to “integrate tradition” into contemporary culture; culture is tradition. But it raises the question: why is the church so eager to abandon its own traditions?

Why, in athletics, do we celebrate local athletic traditions, including – especially? – those which are unintelligible to outsiders . . . But apologize for the same in Christian worship?

We explain (even if we don’t defend) all kinds of tradition. To paraphrase Calvin, the human mind is a factory of traditions. Whether it’s specific meals, things we do in certain ways, movies we watch during specific seasons . . . we are constantly establishing and living in traditions.

We find ourselves suspicious of people who dismiss or mess with athletic tradition. What if Taylor brought in a new athletic director or basketball coach who thought “Silent Night” was just silly, and tried to do away with it? Awkward! The other day I heard a radio conversation about Chicago team mascots; much of the talk was about the hassles team owners had when they either did away with a beloved mascot, or tried to introduce a new one. “Tradition” is everything in sports.

So why are we so willing to toss out centuries (or even “just” generations) of worship tradition?

I don’t think it’s fair to give the default answer, the unassailable, easy, clichéd answer: “We have to make the Gospel the main thing and strip away anything that complicates or obscures it.” In the first place, no Christian worship tradition was established to complicate or obscure the Gospel. Rather, thoughtful biblically minded people sought through worship design to highlight and celebrate the Gospel. We might choose to exercise temporal humility and try at least to understand the origins, purposes, and Gospel connections of a tradition before we reject it. (Or, for that matter, before we accept it!)

If my generation doesn’t “get” a tradition, it’s probably a problem with either (a) the previous generation’s failure to pass along (the basic meaning of tradition) well, or (b) the pride or arrogance of my generation. When we consider dropping, altering, or even making subtle changes to a tradition, maybe we should reflect on how we would accept the threat to or loss of our own beloved sports traditions. There are probably people in our congregation experiencing the same threat or loss. Over something more – shall we say? – profound.

Maybe people don’t connect with our churches because they sense that they are not as rooted as their own families, or their favorite teams. Let us consider our tradition(s) and, in the spirit of “handing on,” make sure it/they stay in the family. Don’t put them in a museum, but instead explain their purpose and value, as well as their source and vibrant history. And let’s attend to the meaning as well as the forms of those traditions, while at the same time entrusting them to the next generation, trusting that if we have done our work they will appreciate, benefit from, celebrate, and pass on those valuable, meaningful, Gospel-carrying traditions. We will know this is well done when our grandparents come into our churches and feel at home even though everything isn’t the same as they left it.