Sermon: Music's Influence

Sermon: "Music's Influence"
Acts 16:9-15    

* Historian Thomas Carlyle wrote: "Music is well said to be the speech of angels; in fact, nothing among the utterances allowed to (man) is felt to be so divine. It brings us near to the infinite."
* Church reformer and founder of the Lutheran Church, Martin Luther, once noted: "The devil takes flight at the sound of music, just as he does the words of theology, and for this reason the prophets always combined theology and music, the teaching of truth and the chanting of Psalms and hymns."

Music - the speech of angels - the voice of God - a vehicle God sometimes uses to get into our hearts or brains or wills in order to impact a message. I love listening to it and I use to love playing it. I certainly wasn't as talented a musician as many of my friends, but I enjoyed getting out my clarinet once in awhile over the years and playing it - sometimes for the entertainment of others, but usually to let the music heal my inner cravings for something I'm not even sure I can name.

I shared in a post a few weeks ago how difficult it's been to give up singing and how helpful the community of faith has been as I've come to understand them as being my voice when they sing on Sunday mornings. In this post I want to share with you a glimpse of at least one of the sources of that appreciation for music. His name was Louie Breece - Louie was how he was affectionately and respectfully known. He was another one of the Ottawa-Glandorf teaching legends that helped shape so many of us. He was the high school band director. He passed away a number of years ago after fighting cancer for several years. He's the reason I still have my clarinet. Here's how it happened.

You might say I was overcommitted my senior year in high school - football, basketball, track, band, student body president, local and county Youth Fellowship President - you get the picture. Several adults close to me sensed I was heading for trouble. My parents finally sat me down and said: "Bill, something has to go."

There was no question by that time that athletics were going to at least be my partial ticket to college and many people were counting on me to fulfill the responsibilities of the leadership positions I held. The simple truth was the band didn't need me. As I mentioned earlier, there were many more talented than me. And so, we decided that was the one that had to go. I cannot begin to convey to you how much I dreaded the thought of going into Louie's office to tell him.

You see, Louie was also one of the reasons I played football. My parents didn't think I was big enough to play my freshman year so I was in the marching band. It was obvious to Louie that he had plenty of clarinetists for a marching band and what he really needed was a bass drum player. He asked me if I'd do it. Probably partially because it felt prestigious and my ego was in need of a little bolstering, I agreed to do it. Besides, I didn't know if it was allowed to say no to Louie.
Oh, my gosh! Playing the bass drum was a whole lot more difficult/challenging/harder than I ever imagined it would be! It wasn't just the carrying around of the bass drum that made it challenging, it was Louie's practices! Sometime in the middle of marching band season I made up my mind that I was going to dedicate myself to doing everything possible to play football the next year. I just knew two-a-day football practices had to be easier than Louie's two-a-days!

Although that was the end of my marching band career, I did continue  to play in the concert band and a group  of us formed a little rock and roll band, the Cymbols. We played at school dances, area parties, political gatherings, and a few places I'm pretty sure my coaches would have preferred we not have.

At any rate, what made going to tell Louie that I was quitting the band difficult wasn't just the fact that he was a tough band director. It was that I knew he loved music and I was afraid he wouldn't understand my decision - that he would be hurt by my decision - that he would perceive my choice as a choice against him and music - that he would be disappointed in me.

Well, after I shared with Louie what I felt I had to do, he leaned back in his chair and he took a couple of draws on the pipe he smoked (yes, in school!) and said words something like these to me: "Billy," he was one of the few people besides my mother and aunts who could still call me that, "Billy, I wish you well.  But, I'd like you to promise me one thing - that you won't get rid of your  clarinet." I'm sure he noticed the look of disbelief and confusion on my face because he continued: "Because one day when you can no longer play ball or run, and there will come that day, you'll pick that clarinet back up and play it again."

I never was able to part with my clarinet and I have it to this day. He was right. Over the years I have picked it up periodically and played some of the old rock and roll tunes I enjoyed playing with the Cymbols. My wife preferred I went to the basement when I got the urge at home. Church secretaries rolled their eyes and closed their doors when I played in the office. I certainly didn't play as much I would have liked to, but I was able to when I wanted to because Louie had enough self-control or insight or professionalism or compassion or something to react to me with what he thought was good for me and not with what might be good for him or the band. I was what was important to him - my life journey was what was important to  him. I know that today  in a way I did not know it at the time.

My sense is that a voice occupies a place in my head and heart as a result of Louie's reaction to me. Oh, there've been others along the way who've contributed to the presence of that voice to be sure. But the point is, the voice influenced me, helped shape me and my ministry. Louie  understood his role as a teacher was not to just make the band the best it could be, which he did, but it was to help people on their journeys through life to be and to do what was best for them. He modeled for me the kind of leader - the kind of parent - the kind of parent I wanted to be. He's at least one of the reasons that I committed to a style of ministry that tried to help people on their journeys of faith sort out their own faith rather than a style that tried to mold people into what I felt their journeys should be and what their faith should be. Quite simply, our beliefs do not have to be in jeopardy, our lives do not have to be threatened when someone else shares that they experience the faith differently. I think Louie, in part, for the voice that resided in me and guided me.

Unknowingly, Louie gave me another gift. He may have had a favorite style of music, but there was no question that he appreciated a variety of music genres. Sure he directed the high school marching and concert band so there was the marching and classical music. He also played in a group that entertained at the Black Angus most weekends. There he played big band, pop, polka, even some early rock and roll. I never thought about whether one style of music was better than another - more important - more ... it never came up. Music was just to be experienced and enjoyed in all its variety.

And so, there's always been a place in my listening to music times for classical, Gospel, folk, jazz, traditional hymns, camp songs, rock and roll, praise, and even country once in awhile. Sure I have my favorites - jazz and early rock and roll. But there are times in my life when I need and prefer something else. The important life lesson here for me is that the issue is not that one is better than the other but that all have a role in the enjoyment and appreciation of life. From Louie I learned to be tolerant and accepting of the different likes of persons - the different needs of people.

In a sermon I crafted several years ago using the influence of Louie on my attitudes I spent a few minutes reflecting on what this has to say about our attitudes toward an array of worship styles. I'm not going to requote all the illustrations, etc. from that sermon, but only offer the summation of my bruised position. It's not about one style of worship being more authentic than another! Putting down past styles or contemporary attempts is a waste of our community energy and spirit! Sometimes I get the feeling we worship a worship style rather than God to whom the worship is directed!

The book of Acts is the story of the growth of the church. It's the story of the early disciples hearing the voice of God in their hearts to open up the community of faith to more than the people of Israel. Peter received a vision at one point that inspired him to invite a Gentile to be a follower. In Acts 16:9-15, the lectionary text for a few weeks ago, Paul received a vision that suggested he should go into Macedonia - into the Greek world and preach the good news. He did, and the church grew and grew. The leader of that Macedonian movement was a woman convert by the name of Lydia. The early church, the church of St. Peter and St. Paul, would be appalled at who we attempt to keep out - keep out of leadership positions - claiming one worshipping style more authentic than another. What should motivate us is what's best for the good news to be shared and experienced.

Well, my original intent was to create a sermon about music being one of the ways we can hear God's voice in our lives. But, I think the more important message is that God's voice can be heard in our hearts, minds, guts, wills through many different mediums. It's about being tolerant and open and accepting and hospitable - for the good of the message and the development of the Kingdom of God. It's about the message, the Savior, not about the medium. I think that's what St. Peter and St. Paul are trying to tell us through the stories we have about their work. I think it's what Louie prepared me to hear in his own, unique way.

Blessings and peace to you all!