Our weekly devotion from the sainted Rev. Earl Feddersen:
Proverbs 9:1-6
Ephesians 5:15-20
John 6:51-58
Our choir director asked me to bring my guitar to choir practice tonight. I can’t play it because it needs repair. I’m not sure I could play it anyway. It has been a long time since I picked it up.
Many years ago, on the Sunday following a vacation Bible school week, I invited a guitarist and a pianist to accompany the congregation’s and the kid’s singing. Different music just lends itself to different kinds of accompaniment. The service started a little on the shaky side. The electricity had gone off during the night and many people, including the guitarist, were scurrying in late. During the second song, the ice and a guitar string were broken simultaneously.
I had set out an extra set of strings for just such an emergency. But I had to pause the service before the readings to help the guitarist find them. It seems that the absent-minded pastor had left them on his desk, instead of taking them into the sanctuary with the music, guitar, etc. During the readings, the skillful fingers of the talented guitarist replaced the errant piece of steel and brought the instrument back into tune. After the Gospel lesson, we sang one of our VBS songs. The hymn had only one stanza. The Bible school students knew it by heart, but just about the time the adults were getting into it, it ended. I asked the congregation if they wanted to sing it again. Their response was a resounding “Yes!”
Now, during the Bible school, I had played the guitar for the singing. The songs were very simple and I could bang out the chords, even with my arthritic fingers, so that the kids could sing. The skills of the guitarist that morning reminded me clearly that each of us has a gift from God and that mine is preaching. The pianist rolled out a second introduction to the song, and the guitarist followed suit– both of them playing notes of all kinds that the songwriter had never even imagined.
I looked at my copy of the music–the very, very simple notation of a children’s song–and listened to what was coming from the piano. I realized that within the mind and perhaps the fingers themselves of gifted and talented people, there is great music lurking around, anxious to find a way to get out. The response of the 150 or so people in attendance was to sing with a volume and enthusiasm equal to that of more than 300 who sang carols in the church on Christmas Eve!
On a different occasion, a similar thing happened. Before the last stanza of a hymn, I got up and walked out in front of the altar. The organist, catching my cue, concluded the hymn. It was a gray, hazy, sleepy kind of morning, and the singing matched the lackluster weather perfectly. I pointed out that hymn was one of particular joy and spirit. It was certainly not meant to be sung with all the enthusiasm of a person going to the mailbox and finding only a telephone bill. I suggested that since the last stanza was a doxology of praise to the Holy Trinity, for whom our congregation is named, that everyone stand and sing in a manner more suited to the words and music. The singing was not twice as good as before; it was probably 30 times as good!
On occasion, songwriters, musicians and singers create special moments. On occasion, God alone creates such moments. The end result is a high you cannot buy. It doesn’t come in a bottle–not in a capsule, caplet or tablet–and not in a syringe. It is no wonder that St. Paul discourages the Ephesians from any excess or misuse of wine and contrasts that with: “Be filled with the Spirit, speaking to each other in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melodies of praise in your hearts to the Lord, giving thanks always, for all things, in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, to Him who is God and Father of us all.”
God’s Word has power in and of itself, but human words have their limitations. Some things cannot be reduced to language. In response to the old adage, “A picture is worth a thousand words,” someone quipped: “Well then, paint me a Gettysburg Address!” At the same time, you can’t “tell” a sunset, write down a Mona Lisa or verbalize a masterpiece by Bach or Handel. Helen Keller said she could feel the beauty of a person, painting, sculpture, even music (on the membranes of a speaker) through her fingertips. On a good day, I’m lucky to feel sharp, hot or cold!
You cannot play First Corinthians 13 on an electric guitar and set of drums, any more than you can play it on a flute and pipe organ. You can’t sing the view of the Grand Canyon or put it into a paragraph, but then, neither can you see a concerto by Mozart or read a little bluegrass. The words “double play” may be music to a pitcher’s ears, but it can’t be performed by two people sitting at a piano.
St. Paul recognized that something very special happens–at least for some of us–when we use music to express our faith. Part of it, I’m sure, is that music often ignites a response. The very words, pop, jazz, rock, classical, country, gospel, and opera will cause sonnets of praise or huffy remarks to come from people’s mouths. Some of these can be funny, like the mother, daughter and granddaughter who all like “Rock and Roll”–one means Bill Haley and the Comets, another, Rick Springfield and the third means some group I never heard of!
Sunday’s Epistle lesson begins with St. Paul saying, “Take heed, therefore, how accurately you walk, not as unwise but as wise.” I think the Jerusalem Bible over-translates the first part of this with: “Be very careful about the lives you lead.” I agree that St. Paul is talking about lifestyle rather than a walk in the park, but I think the idea of walking is important to the text. When St. Paul says we should be careful how we walk, he means we should think about God’s will and set a deliberate course to accomplish it.
Paul wrote that he and the Ephesians lived in a “wicked age.” I wonder how he would compare theirs to ours if he had a chance to watch the six o’clock news! He also says that our lives should redeem the evil times in which we live. If his advice–to walk a deliberate course–ever had meaning, it has it today. We are always running to and fro–from one place to another, one event to another, one fad to another. It is interesting to note that many doctors prescribe walking as an excellent way to combat the stress brought on by our hectic pace. Many people have picked up on it. The last few weeks provided the worst heat wave of the year in Missouri, but dozens of people still went jogging or walking outdoors.
The idea certainly isn’t new. Thomas Jefferson said, “Of all exercises, walking is the best.” A few years later, President Truman said, “People are not overweight; they are underwalked.” Einstein used his walks around Princeton as a means to puzzle out secrets of the universe. Way before him, a nineteenth century philosopher named Erasmus also recognized the value walking gives to the thinking processes. He counseled his disciples: “Before supper walk a little; after supper do the same.”
St. Paul was concerned with our spiritual footwork–that our behavior and conduct are appropriate to our confession. Two things are urged: that we do walk in God’s will, and that we are careful how we walk. In both cases, St. Paul is not interested in a bunch of dour-faced Christians doing God’s will, but all the while envious of all those wicked folks who simply do as they please. No, a walk with God is a joyful enterprise. That’s why Paul continued by urging us to sing psalms and hymns and spiritual
songs–always and everywhere giving thanks to God!
John Burroughs observed that perhaps the greatest epitaph of all time was given to the Old Testament character Enoch: “He walked with God.” Apparently, St. Paul would have wanted a slight addition for himself and for us: “They whistled while they walked with God!”
We have so many reasons to whistle or otherwise play and sing our songs. Jesus entered this world accompanied by songs of angels and it appears He will return with the sound of a trumpet. But the reason He came and the things He said and did combine into a concert that I, for one, cannot keep bottled up inside. He came for me. He spoke word after word of acceptance of me. He spoke every bit as many words of love and forgiveness for me. And it wasn’t just words–He died for me. He rose for me. He is with me as I walk today, always, to the end of the age. I can’t shut up about it. I will sing and I will tell the Good News about Jesus to the ends of the earth.
I have just done something with words that may be unique to words. Read the last paragraph again and note that what “I” wrote becomes what you say. Every “I” and “me” becomes you–not the word “you,” really you. And it’s true.
A Grace-Filled Life 