Dr. John Tamilio III (Sunday, 22 September 2019)
Psalter Lesson: Psalm 150
Today, thanks to Janet Pratt and her family, we acquired and dedicated a baby grand piano to augment, if I may use a musical term, our music in worship. Can you imagine what a treat it will be to hear Richard Harvey tickle the ivories on this instrument as opposed to an upright piano? If you liked how the upright sounded good, your ears are in for a pleasant surprise.
For many of us, music has been a big part of our lives. If you sing or play a musical instrument, you know that this involves more than training and talent. Something about performing music comes from deep within — a place that is difficult to pinpoint or define.
If you don’t play an instrument, you may be an audiophile: someone who loves to listen to music. How often have you caught yourself humming a melody by Beethoven, or a favorite hymn, or even one of the many hits by The Beatles when you were in the shower or driving to work? That musical appreciation also comes from somewhere deep within.
The controversial nineteenth century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once said that “Without music, life would be a mistake.” Another more ancient philosopher, Plato, said that “Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and life to everything.” And then we have the legendary theoretical physicist Albert Einstein who confessed, “If I were not a physicist, I would probably be a musician. I often think in music. I live my daydreams in music. I see my life in terms of music.” Clearly, music is one of those subjects that crosses disciplines and cultures, time and space. It is the universal language.
Is it any wonder, then, that music would be one of the ways that we communicate with God, and, conversely, that God communicates with us?
This past summer I read a book on the history of classical music. It began with the observation that music is as old as humankind. Since the beginning of our existence on this planet — some 150,000 to 200,000 years ago — homo sapiens used rhythms and tones to communicate with one another. “Primitive humans expressed themselves vocally, and the sounds that came out were often musical.” But music didn’t even begin with us. Birds have been singing their songs for eons. The wind has always sung various tunes as it cut across forests and mountain passes. The howl of the wolf, the cry of the loon, the chirping of insects: all of life has a musical quality. The very rhythm that keeps us alive (our heartbeat): is it not replicated by a drum?
No wonder the Psalmist instructs us to “come before [God] with joyful songs” (Ps. 100:2b). Elsewhere he tells us to praise God with an orchestra of instruments: with the trumpet, the harp, and the lyre — with timbrel, strings, pipe, and cymbals.” Psalm 150: our Hebrew Bible reading today. Music is a central part of worship. (Find me a Christian denomination or church that doesn’t have music of one kind or another as part of their worship.)
Now, all this explains us communicating with God, as mentioned earlier, but what about the opposite: what about the assertion that God uses music to communicate with us? Indulge me, if you will…
Deconstruction (a field within both literary theory and philosophy) says, among other things, that language is limited. It cannot convey all the things that we want to say. Take the word “love,” for example. It is a word we use all the time: I love that show. I love my wife. I love chocolate. The Greeks, as I’ve mentioned before, have many different words for love, but we have just one: love. Does that word fully convey how you feel about all the people and things that you happen to love? And that’s just one example! So many times, people say that they do not have the words to express how they feel about something, because language, in fact all languages, are limited.
“According to lexicographer and dictionary expert Susie Dent, ‘the average active vocabulary of an adult English speaker is around 20,000 words, while his passive vocabulary is around 40,000 words.’” Active words are the ones we use on a regular basis when we talk or write. The passive “refers to words we’ve assimilated but have not been able to use.” That may sound like a lot, but there are 171,476 words in the English language. We only use about eleven-and-a-half percent of them in our active vocabulary. Eleven and a half percent! That’s not a lot.
There are feelings and ideas that we absorb that do not come through the normal use of language. That is what poetry is, isn’t it? Poets use language in creative and unfamiliar ways to speak to us about ideas and emotions that ordinary prose cannot convey. Art does the same thing. If you look at one of the masterpieces by Monet, Renoir, or Picasso, you can feel what the artist is trying to say about truth and beauty. No words are needed. The same is true of music. Granted, some music contains lyrics — the hymns we sing in church, for example — but such lyrics are more akin to poetry.
When we think of classical music, which, for much of history, had a connection to Christian worship, we typically do not think of lyrics, although there are operas and oratorios. For me, it is difficult to listen to Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto, or Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, or Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony (although many prefer his Fifth) — it is difficult to listen to such pieces and not feel as if something sacred is speaking to my soul. Saying that these composers were gifted is a gross understatement. I like to think that they had some sort of insight into the sacred, into the heart of the divine, and they shared that vision with us. Their music is something that is felt, not just heard. Their music can move our moods: it can make us joyful, or sad, or uneasy, or peaceful.
So maybe this is why music is a part of our worship of God: it is a way for us to offer (without words) our praise to God — and it is God’s way of speaking to us without words. Not all language is verbal. In an article entitled “Music Really Is a Universal Language,” published on Phys.Org, a website for physics, astronomy, and technology buffs, Dr. Samuel Mehr, a research associate for the Psychology Department at Harvard University, is cited as saying that “Despite the staggering diversity of music influenced by countless cultures and readily available to the modern listener, our shared human nature may underlie basic musical structures that transcend cultural differences.”
Although we look different from one another and speak different languages, music unites us all. It is universal. Maybe that’s because our God is universal: the Creator of Heaven and Earth who reaches out to all of us in a way we all understand — and we respond together: humming the same tune, the music of the spheres, the melody that fills the heart of God. Amen.