The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade
April 17, 2016
Lamentations 5:14-21; Psalm 150; John
10:22-30
Jim Schade, drums, Bruce Peters, bass, and Tony Grigonis, guitar, provided music for our Sunday celebrating jazz music. |
[Here is an example of a sermon that incorporates the music of jazz into the actual preaching moment. To watch the recording of this sermon, click here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEy-Fnj_RUc&feature=youtu.be
Some of you may know that in addition to being a pastor and teacher, I am also a classically-trained harpist. I actually started on piano lessons at age 8, and then added the harp at age 9. In high school I auditioned and was accepted into the PA Governor’s School for the Arts during the summer between my sophomore and junior year. It was there that I first heard the
music of jazz. It was like nothing I had
ever experienced. It was so cool! I was smitten by the skills of the musicians
who could make up music as they played it, coming up with chords and runs and
rhythms that just blew me away.
Later I became smitten with an actual jazz musician – a drummer, who I
met at a music festival my senior year of high school. Our eyes met across a crowded orchestra, the
violins played, and the rest, as they say, is history. I was fascinated with the way Jim could hear
and process and perform complex rhythmic equations, like some kind of musical
mathematical engineering genius. And I
couldn’t believe this cool jazz drummer wanted me – a nerdy classical harpist -
to be his girlfriend! And, years later,
his wife! In June we will be married for
20 years, but we’ve actually been together for 27 years!
And during those years I have learned a great deal about jazz music. Some I’ve learned just by osmosis – being
around it through Jim for so many years. [You can hear samples of Jim's music on his website, http://www.rhythmsoup.net/] Some I learned through lessons with other teachers, and from what Jim
has taught me. Playing jazz on the harp
is one of the most challenging endeavors I’ve ever undertaken. It’s a process I’ll be working on as long as
I am a musician!
I would guess that for most of you, jazz music is not what you have on
your iTunes, or on your Pandora stations, or in your record or CD
collections. Because jazz is not “easy
listening.” Jazz requires you to
participate in its creative process.
It’s not intended to be background music. With its roots in African rhythms, European
harmonies, and different cultural influences from Latin America to Cajun to
slave history, jazz is a true melting pot of the American music experience. As we learned in our Forum earlier this
morning, once you understand a little about what’s going on with jazz, you can
appreciate it better – even if it’s still not to your musical liking. Because the goal of jazz is to involve the
listener, to invite you into this complex interplay of rhythm, bass lines,
harmonies and melodies.
And isn’t this the kind of “music” we hear in the Bible? God’s Word was never meant to be “easy
listening.” The gospel requires you to
participate in its creative process.
Scripture was never intended to be background music. Its goal is to involve you, all of us, in its
complex interplay of law and Gospel, lamentation and hope, justice and promise.
One of the most important things I’ve learned from listening to jazz is,
well, listening. As a musician, I’ve come to appreciate the
process I’m hearing in the music played by jazz musicians. And I’ve realized that listening is an
integral part of being a follower of Jesus.
Jesus talked about the importance of listening in our Gospel reading
from John: “My sheep hear my voice. I
know them, and they follow me,” (John 10:27).
Kirk Byron Jones says in his book The Jazz of Preaching, that jazz players are always “reaching, longing,
choosing, losing, pursuing, deciding and perhaps hurting,” when they are
sounding their instrument (Jones, 51). “Some notes are harder to hear,” he says. “Some
notes require that we give up something of ourselves so that [those notes]
might become ‘heard-able,’” (Jones, 51).
Being a follower of Christ is a lot like that – reaching, longing,
choosing, losing, pursuing, deciding and perhaps hurting. Listening for the voice of Jesus and then
following what we hear can be difficult sometimes. We may have to let go of our egos, our
ideologies, our political affiliations, our presuppositions, in order for God’s
Word to become “heard-able” to us.
But I’ve also I’ve observed how important it is for the musicians to
listen to each other: to hear how the drummer is laying down the groove, to
feel how the bass is playing “in the pocket,” to follow the solo and support it
with a nuanced layering of harmonies. If
only our churches played as well together as these musicians!
[To the
musicians]: Each of you has spent hours
woodshedding on your ax, practicing your instrument for countless hours, learning
music theory, practicing your scales, and training with other musicians to hone
your craft. And when you come together
to play, you are so well-grounded in your art, and so attuned to each other,
you can take a bare bones chart and know instinctively how to make something musical
out of it.
It’s no different for those who follow the charts of Jesus. We each need to put in the time in praying,
learning to read Scripture, practicing the teachings of the Master, steeping
ourselves in the catechism, and coming for weekly lessons with the pastor or
lay leaders who help train us in this music of discipleship. That way when we come together to worship, to
serve our neighbors, to advocate for justice, to pass on the teachings to our
younger ones, we can trust the process and make the music of God with it.
How are your
listening skills? Where do you do your
best listening to Jesus? What is your
process of learning to hear the notes and rhythms and harmonies of the
Gospel? And what
impedes your ability to listen? What
blocks the sound of Jesus’ voice? How do
you move through those “silent” times when you can’t tune in to the text or listen
to what Jesus is saying to you? What do
you do when your ears are stopped up and it’s difficult for you to listen to
the needs of other people, or even the needs of your own soul?
Have you
ever listened to John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme? [Musicians play song underneath.]
I think Coltrane must have been a Lutheran. Because his music is law and gospel all at
the same time. The pathos and the
woundedness, together with the sublime beauty of grace is somehow communicated
through this song. It’s like a musical
version of the theology of the cross!
What a gift
the African experience has given American music through its creation of “The
Blues.” James Cone in his book The Spirituals and the Blues describes
the bittersweetness that comes through the truth of black experience. The blues reflect the incongruity of life and
attempt to make meaning in a situation filled with contradictions. The blues express strength in
brokenness. Like the reading we heard in
Lamentations, the truth of a person’s pain, a community’s suffering is honestly
expressed. But so is their faith in the God who has not given up on them,
despite all evidence to the contrary.
And
especially important today is that the blues affirm the essential value of
black humanity. This is a refrain we
have to keep sounding. Black Lives Matter is a movement of both lament and
hope. It is music whose notes are
difficult to hear. But listen we must –
for God is speaking to us through this brokenness. And like Billie Holiday plaintively singing
about “Strange Fruit” which describes the brutal lynchings of innocent black
men and women in the South, God’s gorgeous raspy voice will vocalize the truth
of that pain, while transforming it into something powerful and life-giving.
And what is
life-giving about this music is the same thing that is life-giving about the
gospel. It is the invitation to
imagination and play. When musicians
take flight with their improvisations, we soar with them in their freedom. What types of play sparked your imagination
as a child? What sparks it now? How can play be incorporated into our
churches, into our faith practices?
People are longing for the joy that comes through improvisation and
play.
I think we can say that this is a
church that appreciates play! Just think
of our Holy Humor Sunday last week and every year where we play with popular
culture and mash it up with the biblical story and the proclamation of Christ’s
resurrection. This church welcomes the
imagination and improvisation of our young people. We make space here for that kind of faith-improvisation to flourish.
The Bible is
full of God’s improvisers who exercised their divine imaginations to play a new
song into this world. The prophet Amos
saw justice rolling down like water, and righteousness like a mighty stream
(Amos 5:24). Jesus’ mother Mary saw
thrones overturned and a restoration of economic balance (Luke 1:52). John of Patmos saw a tree with leaves of
healing for the nations (Revelation 22).
Listen to
jazz long enough and intently enough and you may be able to hear that music of
God’s divine imaginings in your ear.
God’s music means listening to all
the players. It means attending to the
“blues” of this world. And it involves collaborating
with your fellow musicians of the Gospel to lay your own “tracks” down on God’s
rhythms. And it means learning to
improvise, to create your own combination of notes and silence, melodies and
harmonies, minor sevenths and major chords.
You are invited to pick up the instrument of your own talents and skills
and join in this music, to actively co-create this music of the Gospel so that
it can be heard in every key.
Truly this
music of the gospel, this jazz of Jesus is “a love supreme.” It calls to us, cajoles us, confounds us, and
releases us in an almost mystical way. May
God bless you in the hearing, in the playing, in both the major and minor chords
of your life. And may this “love
supreme” find its way into our hearts and minds, hands and voices. Amen.
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