This, I Believe

Being back on our fall schedule means that I no longer get to hear Liane Hanson host Weekend Edition Sunday during my morning drive.  For NPR fanatics like me, the hosts became old friends, so I miss hearing her voice, her humor, and her wit during the puzzle segments.  In exchange, I get to hear Bob Edwards, and in particular I'm back to hearing the series "This, I Believe."

I've always proclaimed that my ultimate vision for the blog and Bethany's music ministry stems, in part, from this series, based on the work of Edward R. Murrow.  The radio series has moved on from sharing the historic essays to covering recently submitted work.  They share brief statements of beliefs (not necessarily theological), in the same way that I continue to invite your opinions and thoughts and feedback about music and, in particular, our fall theme of Make Joyful Noise.

Pondering and sharing our beliefs is such an important exercise that Kent State University this year required all incoming freshman to read the book This I Believe.  The opportunity to read and reflect during formative years is an important part of maturing, but it is vital that we all have ongoing outlets for such meditation.  Let the music and the conversation help inspire you during worship and during your daily life, seek out other venues as well (Bethel Bible study is one great possibility, of course), and continue to engage in conversation about belief.

Making space

I heard Krista Tippett, host of NPR's "Speaking of Faith," describe Lent not as a time of "giving up" but of "making space." My personal feelings toward the idea of giving something up for Lent have likely become clear to my readers. I don't see self-abnegation as a proper act of thanksgiving and praise of a loving God.

But I do see the wisdom of making space. The busier life gets, the more I can come to appreciate time taken to go for a run, to make music, or simply to relax and enjoy the company of friends and family. Ironically, taking a break can make us more productive. Adding another item to our weekly schedule can make the rest seem easier and better. That's why giving up an hour of life for a Lenten service can be a joy, rather than a burden. That's even why I think giving up candy to replace it with a vegetable can be a wise choice. We aren't simply giving up something we like; we are replacing it with something better for us.

There aren't many days of Lent remaining, of course, but the idea of making space in our lives for prayer, music, and church should be with us all year. Can you give up an evening for choir rehearsal? Or can you simply give up 10 minutes of sleeping in on Sunday morning for fellowship before church, and prayer during the offering? That would be the kind of giving up and making space that I can understand!

No respect

I have to admit that I don't listen to American Public Media's Composers Datebook regularly. I mostly blame the delivery method. After all, I read Writers' Almanac online almost daily, but clicking play on a daily audio clip always seems to require one too many steps for convenience. Fortunately, people around me are faithful listeners and don't let me miss the best segments. I received two emails this week about the broadcast from Feb. 22nd.

The broadcast included a discussion of the anniversary of the premiere performance of Virgil Thomson's "Symphony on a Hymn Tune." It should more properly be titled a symphony on two hymn tunes. Not only did he utilize the well-known tune "How Firm a Foundation," but he also layered it with strains of "Jesus Loves Me." The piece was not a success, with the NY Times describing it as "Too trivial and inconsequential, too unoriginal in its material, and flimsy in its material to merit discussion."

Could that opinion have stemmed in part from the use of the simple tune "Jesus Loves Me" in a symphonic setting? Pastor commented to me that it seemed like that particular tune is the Rodney Dangerfield of the hymnal, getting no respect. It seemed especially timely to me today, given the sermon hymn last night, "There Is a Green Hill, Far Away." It too was originally composed for children, with a simple tune and text. Some people see beauty and meaning in that comforting simplicity, while others dismiss it as lacking depth.

I'm sure there's a range of opinion on singing simple hymn tunes, so what do you think, readers? Are such hymns best relegated to Sunday School or do they deserve a place in worship? And what hymns would you nominate for Rodney Dangerfield status - those favorites of yours that seem to get no respect?

Unorthodox wisdom - Marvin Hamlisch

Not too long ago, I listened to an interview on public radio's "Studio 360" with Marvin Hamlisch. He was talking primarily about composing the music for various films, including his most recent work for "The Informant." It was interesting to hear him describe the process of thinking about a character and having a musical motif simply come to mind. The host went so far as to describe it as a kind of synesthesia.

I don't think of myself as a composer, though I dabble in small things for church. But I think the truly great composers think primarily in a musical language that is their mother tongue, in the way Hamlisch is describing. They hear text and immediately translate it into music; they feel an emotion and hear a melody.

Church music is elevated prayer, whether or not it includes text. At its best, it is the sublime expression of praise and penitence, prayer and proclamation. Of course, Hamlisch composed music for "A Chorus Line," which encapsulates this process in the medium of dance. In particular, the song "Music and the Mirror" talks about expression through dance. I'll close with a portion of that song's lyrics today:

Give me somebody to dance with.
Give me a place to fit in.
Help me return to the world of the living
By showing me how to begin.

Play me the music.
Give me a chance to come through.
All I ever needed was the music, and the mirror,
And the chance to dance for you.

Public Radio: Composer's Datebook

I suppose it's odd that I've written numerous entries on the joys of public radio, but I've never mentioned the program "Composer's Datebook." Thanks to a suggestion from Pastor, I'd like to rectify that situation today.

This past Saturday, the show featured a performance of "Genesis" by composer Charles Wuorinen. He is an American composer who fully embraced and enhanced the sound of "modern classical music." He is well-known for incorporating ideas of math and geometry into his music, and his work has been acclaimed with a Pulitzer Prize and a MacArthur "genius grant." Despite all of that, he remains largely unknown to the public because his music is far from easy to understand and enjoy. (To hear a free sample of "Genesis," click here. It's not a melodic, listener-friendly piece, but it may be the perfect sound for the chaotic process of creation!)

Wuorinen is particularly articulate on the distinction between art and entertainment, just as we might analogously attempt to draw a line between worship and entertainment. In a New York Times interview, he says, "I think there's a very simple distinction [between art and entertainment]. Entertainment is that which you receive without effort. Art is something where you must make some kind of effort, and you get more than you had before." In other words, great music and great art have a lingering influence on our lives and worldview.

However, despite his claim that it is a "simple" distinction, the line can admitedly become blurry. For instance, while I would argue that my vibrant memories of seeing Les Miserables on Broadway for the first time represent an artistic highpoint of American theatre, other people would surely rate it as entertainment. Individual perspective, experience, and even level of music education matter greatly in determining the difference between art and entertainment. Church musicians thus face a weekly struggle to find music that can reach people and yet transcend entertainment. It's a delicate balance, but the best hymns and service music will provoke thought and prayer as well as delight your ears.

No two people hear a piece of music in the same way. What brings an audience together, though, is the shared experience of hearing and making sense of a performance. On "Composer's Datebook," Wuorinen is quoted as saying, "Art is like nuclear fusion. You have to put something into it to get it started, but you get more out of it in the end than what you put in. Entertainment is its own reward and generally doesn't last." Replace "art" with "worship" and the same comparison is valid - worship demands participation and has everlasting reward.

Chinese Christianity

This summer I read Rob Gifford's account of his travel across China from Shanghai to the western border, published as China Road: A Journey into the Future of a Rising Power. He had worked for many years as the NPR correspondent in China, and his book provides the history and context of a top-notch journalist, as well as a stirring and thorough depiction of modern life across China.


At one point, in the middle of the country, he decided to attend a church service. We all know that China has a sometimes-troubled history with several different faiths, but Rob Gifford discovered a powerful pocket of faith at a house church. In fact, he ended up being invited to preach. He wrote an eloquent description of the vividness of the congregation's faith:


"There is a purity and an intensity to Christian believers in China, and it overflows in their prayers. Mention Christianity to ordinary Chinese people, and they are not burdened by visions of crusading soldiers, fornicating popes, or right-wing politicians. They have heard about this belief relatively late in the faith's long and winding history, and for them it is a matter of the heart. That is perhaps how it was supposed to be..."


He goes on to describe a decrepit organ that cranks out the hymns that everyone joins in to sing. The description reminded me of the power of faith and worship and church music when you are first exposed to it. In Zen meditation it is called "beginner's mind," that mindset where life is wondrous and the joy and love of faith overwhelm us. Music can be one way to help create that thankful, powerful attitude, as can prayer and meditation, Bible study, or even simply going for a walk on a beautiful fall evening.

Traditional media

Lest you think I'm only following the Churchwide Assembly through modern technology, I want to share some of the traditional media sites as well.

First, the Minneapolis Star-Tribune has been doing a daily article that has drawn plenty of comments online. The latest one I've read can be found here. Here's a recent article from The Washington Post, and the Plain Dealer has gotten in the action only by quoting the AP from what I can find.

MPR's Midmorning show (once hosted by the brilliant Katherine Lanpher and now by the superb Kerri Miller) will devote an hour to the issue of gay clergy in general, with an eye obviously toward the ELCA votes this week.

I know some people may accuse me of pushing an agenda this week, but please note that I'm not telling anyone what to think. Furthermore, I'm fascinated by many of the issues before the Assembly. These meetings are as close as we'll ever come to one of the ecumenical councils. We aren't hammering out the language of the Creed, but we are passionately discussing aspects of our lived faith. No matter how you feel about any particular issue, that must be worth following.

Public Radio - Part 5, Speaking of Faith

I know that I've mentioned the show "Speaking of Faith" a few times, but it's my own form of evangelizing to spread the news about such an intelligent discussion about faith and modern life. It dawned on me that I have never mentioned the host's book, which is also titled "Speaking of Faith." So any of my readers who don't want to or don't have the capability of listening to podcasts can pick up the book at the library and get at least a sampling of the show and its broad range of topics

A few weeks ago, the host Krista Tippett was discussing the Sunni-Shia divide within Islam. The guest made a comment about Islam being a religion where orthopraxy was more important than orthodoxy. He was arguing that how your religion influences your daily life is superior to any proper recitation of faith.

It reminds me of practicing the organ or piano. It doesn't matter how much music theory I know or how well I can explain the structure of a Bach fugue. At some point, I must sit down and play it over and over, working out fingering in difficult sections, until the practice results in preparation. Some pieces that I first studied years ago are still "in my fingers." Good music is a virtue, and to paraphrase Aristotle, virtue is created and reinforced through daily practice.

In the end, our journey through the Creed only matters if it changes our lives outside the church building. We've all heard it sung that "They'll know we're Christians by our love." And they'll know that by our practicing of what we preach.

Public Radio - Part 4, This I Believe

Last night was our first Wednesday night service of the summer and also the beginning of Pastor's weeks-long series of sermons on the Creed. Like all new ventures, it had its bumpy moments. I think most of those present would agree that ELW 411 need never be sung again, for one thing. The text may have been perfect, but the tune left much to be desired. Overall, though, the service was a great start to the summer.

In case you haven't noticed, I'm geeking out over the Creed this week. Pastor mentioned that in some quarters there is an anti-intellectual bias against the Creed, that it represents the imposition of beliefs. The Speaking of Faith interview that I mentioned earlier this week (and you really should listen to it when you have some time) takes aim at that argument. The guest points out that we have to be able to pass on an orthodox set of beliefs to future generations. What better way than to write them down in poetry and set them to music? The Creed provides a wealth of material for anyone interested in theology, history, poetry, or music. For a geek like me who loves all four, there is no better topic.

My other public radio topic for today is Edward R. Murrow's series titled This I Believe. He started the famous project back in the 1950s, but NPR has been replaying select essays from it. The project has also seen a renaissance with new essays being collected. Their website has a plethora of material. It's fascinating to hear how people strive to sum up even one belief and compare it to the beauty, simplicity, and depth of the Creed.

Public Radio Part 3 - Creed Kick-off

For most of this summer, Pastor will be preaching on the text of the Creed. If you want a jump start to thinking about the power, meaning, poetry, text, and theology of the creed I suggest you check out Krista Tippett's Speaking of Faith episode titled "The Need for Creeds." Her program is a weekly discussion that is among the most reasoned and intelligent religious dialogues today (or at least that's my humble endorsement of it). That particular installment discusses the hundreds and thousands of Creeds throughout history and lays a great foundation for the discussion that is ahead for us in the coming weeks.

I've been anticipating this summer's services because the Creed is an endlessly fascinating doctrinal statement. So many words in it reflect a battle against some long-forgotten heresy so that the text can represent the heart of our faith. (Incidentally, that's one more reason that the text is arguably more powerful in Latin, in which it lies closer to the intent of the authors.) The words that we can recite from rote memory every Sunday present a bold list of claims about creation, the nature of Christ, the doctrine of the trinity, and so much more.

The Creed is also poetry, though, and as such is closely related to music. Every congregation falls into its own cadence and rhythm for reciting the statements of faith. One of my favorite moments in the Nicene Creed is the insertion of the words "in glory" in the clause "He will come again, in glory, to judge the living and the dead." The extra rhythm of that triplet, with a slight accent on "glo" gives the phrase a beautiful lilt that transforms it from prose to poetry.

If you're not interested in listening to the entire program from Speaking of Faith, at least check out this Maasai Creed that uses the imagery of African tribes to describe the ministry of Christ. It's unusual, even foreign, yet inspiring and intriguing. I hope many of you will join us every Wednesday and Sunday this summer to join in the discussion and the music.

Public Radio Part 2 - Funeral music

You might not think that the NPR show "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" would spark a blog entry about church music, but you'd be wrong. One of the reasons I love the show is that its witty humor encompasses not only the main headlines from the news, but also the quirky stories from around the world. For instance, this week included news of the outrage that greeted a British crematorium that is replacing their organist with a karaoke machine. (You can read the Telegraph's article about it here.)

I suppose there are some benefits to prerecorded music. With 24 hours notice, you can have almost any piece played in almost any key - from ancient hymns to modern songs of any kind - without worrying about whether the musicians are sight reading something they've never heard before. You can control the volume, and you certainly never have to worry about wrong notes.

But there are downsides too. The music can be tinny and the arrangements weak. The vocal tracks can be almost unbearably bad, and if someone does try to sing along karaoke style we all know what a nightmare that can become. Plus, you lose any personal touches and the ability to lengthen the musical interlude of a communion service running a minute longer than the selected hymn.

The bottom line, though, is that a funeral should celebrate the life of the deceased, the family, and the congregation (in that order). People turn to the great hymns of faith because not only because they are great texts set to great music, but also because they represent the familiar and comforting tunes we have sung for generations and throughout our own lives. This past Saturday, members of Bethany gathered with friends and family to remember and celebrate our friend Harry's life in words and music, especially his favorite hymn "A Mighty Fortress." It was so fitting that a man of such faith should have such a strong association with a favorite hymn.

Whether they get sung, played on the organ, or piped through a sound system, ask yourself what hymns means the most to you. The hymnal, like the Bible, can express the joy of a beautiful day, the sorrow and the hope inherent in a funeral, and the celebration of a wedding. With that song list, who needs a karaoke machine if you have a good Lutheran organist?!