As most of the regulars here know [and the visitors are. about to find out], I have a 15 month old grandson with some

Transcription

1 3 rd Sunday of Easter, Year C, 04/14/2013, Greeneville, Tennessee 1 As most of the regulars here know [and the visitors are about to find out], I have a 15 month old grandson with some serious seizure problems. He s doing great right now, carried along by good medicine, the prayers of these people and the love of his family. His parents have enrolled him in something called music therapy. This past Monday, he was the only one in class, which gave him a chance to showcase his skills. The therapist pulled out a guitar and a drum. I ll play the guitar, she said to Everett. You play the drum. She strummed the guitar twice; he beat the drum twice. She strummed three times; Everett gave back three beats to her. You are way too young to be doing that, she chimed. I m not bragging of course. Okay, maybe I m bragging a little bit. But I want you to notice the coming together of two words we usually keep apart therapy and music and the wonder working power that flows from the collision. You take a few notes, throw in a desire to heal bang music therapy. You know, that s not a bad name for the church: music therapy. Healing through music. How many times have we come to the sanctuary beat up by life s struggles only to have a hymn clean and bandage our wounds? Or how about when we come here tired and half-bored? Then the choir blasts an anthem that makes us awake and aware of God s goodness. I ve been rescued more than once by a high brow prelude on the organ or by Whitney

2 3 rd Sunday of Easter, Year C, 04/14/2013, Greeneville, Tennessee 2 ripping apart the keys. Somewhere between our eardrums and our hearts, God makes a saving connection. And we are well again, hopeful, relieved. God s therapy through music. So when the psalmist adjures us to make a joyful noise to the Lord, he may have more than one reason in mind. For sure, the psalmist calls us to praise God because praise is fitting. God is the life-giving creator of the universe. The seas ebb and flow in his hands. The purple morning mountains shout out his handiwork. Whether singing makes us better off or not, it still makes sense in all times and places to lift our voices in praise to the great and glorious God. Yet, the psalmist probably knows what we know. Music also puts broken things back together. Thanksgiving and joy can be lost and scattered. But a good hymn will pick up the pieces. Hope may be missing some vital parts. But the right arrangement of Be Still, My Soul will reconstitute the whole. I can read, The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. And I feel better. But when I sing it, suddenly my needy self is grazing in green pastures, and drinking from the quiet waters by. So there are at least two reasons to sing our faith. One, God deserves it. Two, singing makes us well. Therapy from God through music. In fact, God s music has such restorative powers it s been known to raise the dead. When we lived in Marshall, Texas, the congregation led worship in a nursing home once every few

3 3 rd Sunday of Easter, Year C, 04/14/2013, Greeneville, Tennessee 3 months. Worship in a nursing home is much different from worship in a church. Most of the residents have lost their eyesight, hearing or voice, or some combination of the three. Often the song leaders are the only ones singing. Often enough, the residents stare off somewhere away from the action in front of them. One day when we were leading, the staff wheeled in a woman who was like everyone else only more so. She was slumped across the small table attached to her rolling chair. She appeared to be asleep, almost comatose. The staff tried to tell her something. No response. The idea passed through my mind, Why are they bringing her in here? Obviously she couldn t participate. Then the out-of-tune piano began clunking out Amazing Grace. When I looked up the woman slumped over her chair was missing. I don t know where she went. But in here place was a long tall woman, swaying with the music. Her thin, ebony arms stretched up to heaven; her eyes were open and staring straight at God. Where did she come from? She was as good as dead a few moments earlier. But the music found her, and brought her back to life. And in case we may need more than one story to help us believe in music s wonder working power, remember Mrs. Allen. Mrs. Allen had Alzheimer s. She had worried her whole life she

4 3 rd Sunday of Easter, Year C, 04/14/2013, Greeneville, Tennessee 4 would get it, and her bad dream came true. Her husband was good to bring her to church. He kept bringing her even after she lost the ability to recognize anyone. She couldn t speak. People would greet here, and Mrs. Allen didn t even see them, much less carry on a conversation. But every Sunday her husband brought her to the sanctuary probably as much for his sake as for hers. Well, one Sunday, when the ushers were bringing forward the offering, I looked to my left, and there was Mrs. Allen, standing on her own two feet, singing the doxology with every nerve and muscle she had. She couldn t speak, but the music found her and gave back her voice. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. She didn t miss a beat. Some of the last words she ever said, Praise God from whom. I m baffled that some people would downplay the importance of music. Are you kidding me? Most of us aren t won over to God by the rational arguments of the philosophers. We are sung into faith. God gets to us with sound waves and bass guitars, violins and willing soloists. We remember mother singing a gospel song while she did the dishes; or an uncle whistling, Love Divine while rooting around in his flower bed. Worship songs stay with us. And when we need them, they come back to us to make us brave or to increase our trust in God s provision or to help us ask for forgiveness and release. Make no mistake. We don t

5 3 rd Sunday of Easter, Year C, 04/14/2013, Greeneville, Tennessee 5 sing just to eat up time before the preaching starts. We sing because we need it. It puts us back together. The church s music is life-giving and powerful. So powerful St. Augustine was a little scared of it. He knew from his own experience that a psalm attached to notes had a greater impact and was easier to remember. He noted a hidden correspondence between music and faith that led him to weep as a new convert when he sang the words of scripture. But Augustine worried folks would get so wrapped up in the music that they wouldn t pay attention to the words, that in fact the melody would carry them away from God, becoming an end in itself for the good feelings it induces. In short, Augustine didn t want music to become an idol, the next golden calf. Augustine would have made a good Presbyterian, wary of anything that might bring even the slightest bit of pleasure. We have to acknowledge he has a point. But I can think of something almost as bad as being misled by music. What if the music died? What would happen to faith then? Where would we get the words to cry out our grief? What would lift us from the pit of despair? Who would teach our children sound theology, and kiss them with the hope of heaven? You remember how Don McClean described the death of music. It was like the three ones he admired the most Father, Son and the Holy Ghost they caught the last train for

6 3 rd Sunday of Easter, Year C, 04/14/2013, Greeneville, Tennessee 6 the coast, the day the music died. Bye, Bye, American Pie. And Bye, Bye to so much that keeps our faith going and our hearts connected to the living God. That is, if someone kills the music. How happy, then, to be able to report there s a song that never ends. Day and night around the throne, the scripture says, they never stop singing. Angels and archangels, elders and the redeemed from every nation and tongue. Mrs. Allen and the woman from the nursing home and a multitude of old friends and strangers. They sing in a now that goes on forever. Thanks be to God, there is no day when the music dies. The name of the song that never ends: redemption. It s a new song. Not new in the sense of Billboard s Top 40, here today and gone tomorrow. But so ancient and true the song never loses its freshness. Worthy is the Lamb who was slain to receive glory and honor and power and blessing.praise to our God and to the Lamb, who shall reign forever and ever. And the four heavenly creatures shout, Amen. And the elders fall down on their faces. We don t have a score for the song that never ends. But I can tell you what I think. I think all kinds of music are gathered up in it. Somehow the Great Conductor pulls in a nice jazz riff, comingles it with some Bach and some Memphis blues, then adds a layer of classic country. And we re just getting started. Throw in the best of contemporary - Matt Redman giving us 10,000

7 3 rd Sunday of Easter, Year C, 04/14/2013, Greeneville, Tennessee 7 reasons to praise - Gregorian chants, tribal chants from Africa and an old gospel favorite like Softly and Tenderly Jesus is Calling. And we must go on, even if it includes music toward which we turn up our noses. We may hate Bluegrass, but for all we know God loves it, along with hip-hop, bee-bop, sock hop, and dare we say it, screaming guitars. God is the first and primary musician of the universe. All forms of music come from God. We may twist and turn music for our own ends, as we are prone to do with the words God gives us. But the One who dispersed music in its grand variety will bring the music back to him, swirling around the throne in infinite layers of harmonic praise. And when the music goes back to God, it will bring us with it, risen from the dead. Blessing and glory and power and might be to our God forever and ever. That s how it was; that s how it is; and that s how it shall be. There is a theology that says whenever we gather to praise, the veil between heaven and earth disappears. Our voices get caught up with the voices of the heavenly choir doing their thing. For a few moments, the music takes us to the land where death is no more. Mourning, crying and pain are no more because God is just inches away. Music transports us to the age to come where all is well and complete thanks to the work of Christ. Maybe that s why music is our therapy. It lets us taste heaven.

8 3 rd Sunday of Easter, Year C, 04/14/2013, Greeneville, Tennessee 8 Then sing on. Join your voices with the church universal and hail him who saved you by his grace. Sing when you re planting flowers, and sing while you re waiting on spring to come. Sing when the heart is light and free, and sing when the burden is too big to bear alone. Take the songs of the sanctuary with you, people, and let them be your medicine. And if your hope gets too low, and you just can t sing anymore, come back here on Sundays. We ll sing for you until you get your voice back. Some of us don t sing very loud. We re ashamed of our voices. We tell everyone what a terrible voice we have. I understand. You ought to see me dance. Shameful. But I would tell you this morning, God hears better than we sing. Make a joyful noise, according to the psalmist. You don t have to be ashamed. God can gather up your offering as well as anyone else s in the eternal Milky Way of praise. Sing on. Sing even in the face of death. Especially in the face of death. David and his family knew that his mother didn t have long to live. She fought hard, but they were coming to the end. The hospice nurses had called. It won t be long, they said. So the family went to be with her at her home. They gathered around the bed. What did you do then? He told me. We sang. They sang all of her favorites. She liked the gospel songs. Now that s

9 3 rd Sunday of Easter, Year C, 04/14/2013, Greeneville, Tennessee 9 the way to go, from one song into the next, from night to day. The church doesn t sing to avoid death, but to face it with hope. Somewhere between our eardrums and our hearts, God makes a saving connection. We are well again, hopeful, relieved. God s therapy through music. So sing on, friends. Sing with angels and archangels and the loved ones who ve gone on. Sing all the way home.