Some Thoughts on Music Appreciation

St. Augustine, back in the fifth century, was once quoted as saying, "Those who sing pray twice." We pray with our words; and at the same time, we pray again with our music. Our songs are very powerful, indeed, and often become an integral part of who we are. As some of you may know, I lead one of the grief support groups on Tuesday mornings. Many of those who participate tell me that just when they think they are coping well with their losses, they happen to hear a song. And then without warning, images and memories from the past well up inside them as tears flow from their eyes.

Music connects us with our past. We remember the songs they played at our first dance in high school. A whole generation remembers the "Big Band" music of the 1940s. But those were more than just sentimental love songs. They became poignant reminders of a world at war, when even our music was marshaled into the war effort. Only those who remember the wartime "blackouts" can fully appreciate the song "When the Lights Go on Again, All Over the World." Later, another generation remembers how the rock and roll music of the 60s and 70s spoke to their concerns over the Vietnam War and many other social issues with songs such as "Blowing in the Wind" and "Where have All the Flowers Gone." An even younger generation will later shed a tear every time they hear Elton John singing "Candle in the Wind," and they will remember a Princess.

The music of the church is like that too. We fondly remember the songs we grew up with in our Sunday schools. Of course, if our parents dragged us kicking and screaming to Sunday school and church, we might not remember these songs quite so fondly. Others might remember the songs they learned at a summer church camp or camp meeting. The more gifted among us might recall the music we learned singing in a concert choir: a high school chorus, a college glee club, or a community oratorio society. These various experiences often define not only what music we like, but also who we are.

For example, President Ulysses S. Grant had little appreciation of music. After a concert one evening, he was asked whether he had enjoyed the performance. "How could I?" he replied. "I know only two tunes: One of them is 'Yankee Doodle' and the other one isn't." Sadly, there are many whose knowledge of hymns is about as profound. They know only two hymns: one of them is 'Amazing Grace' and the other one isn't." Sadly, too, church music is sometimes used as a wedge to divide us into quarrelling factions rather than being a tie that binds us together.

Our life journey has a musical accompaniment. Each of us has a unique musical history that becomes the theme music for our lives. Each of us truly marches to the beat of a different drummer. But rather than celebrate our diversity of musical experiences and learn from one another, we use music to identify and define those who think like us and those who are different from us. If it were up to me, I would have chosen a different title for our hymnal supplement, The Faith We Sing. I always wonder who they meant by "We." And isn't the traditional United Methodist Hymnal also "The Faith We Sing"?

I suspect that many of my musical experiences are probably quite different from many of yours; not better, just different. I know there are many in our choir who also have memorable musical experiences that we have shared together over the years. We remember singing "When in Our Music God is Glorified" at Salisbury Cathedral, Coventry Cathedral, and Wesley Chapel in London when we toured England in 2001. As the son of a church organist, I too grew up in the Sunday school and learned all popular hymns and songs of an earlier era. It hardly seems possible that it was fifty years ago in 1957, while I was a college student, that I went to Madison Square Garden for the Billy Graham Crusade when George Beverly Shea introduced us to a new hymn "How Great Thou Art." That hymn has become one of the most popular, in part, because of Billy Graham. But I also sang Beethoven's Ninth Symphony in Carnegie Hall, the Mozart Requiem in Paris, and I sang in Budapest Hungary just after the Iron Curtain came down. Perhaps my most moving musical experience was singing a Hebrew hymn, "Shalom Rav al Israel" - "May Peace Come to Israel" - at Yad Vashem, the holocaust memorial, in Jerusalem.

So on this music appreciation Sunday, I would like to suggest that we develop a renewed respect and tolerance for music in all its styles and forms. For that which may leave some of us cold, may speak to others in a profoundly deep and personal way. To remind me of this, years ago I wrote a little poem:

Shall I despise the sparrow 'cause he doesn't sing my song?
Nor listen to a babbling brook that swiftly flows along?
Different rhythms; different sounds; different harmony.
All blend together into one to make God's symphony.

There's music in a lover's sigh.
there's music in a baby's cry.

Even those who cannot speak and those who cannot hear,
carry songs within their souls that tell them God is near.

So many things divide us; we go our separate ways.
When we should be united in common hymns of praise.
I'll learn your song, and you learn mine. Together we will bring
"Amazing Grace" how sweet the sound when both our voices sing!

W. Richard Turnerhas written several hymns that have been featured on the Discipleship Ministries's website. He is a retired research chemist.