April 25, 2009
The Third Sunday of Easter (Year B)
Acts 3:12-19; Psalm 4; 1 John 3:1-7;
Luke 24:36b-48
Jay’s last Sunday –
The New York Times reported this week about an Alzheimer’s study. It has been discovered that if severely memory impaired patients, those who did not any longer know their own name, or the names of their loved ones or have any sense of where they were or why they were where they were, if such patients were introduced to music that had been a part of their pasts, they reconnected, sometimes only briefly, but they reconnected. The article spoke of a man who was in such a state. It recounted how they had tried many kinds of music but when they finally played “Bicycle built for Two,” he lit up, smiling, and took his wife in his arms and they danced. It was an incredible moment for her because he had not held her or touched her for years.
Music has that power, doesn’t it? The power to bring us in touch with the most precious, most sacred, most anything meaningful in our lives, from moments to whole decades or eras. For ten years Jay has been the music maker and “moment maker” for us. As I thought about what to say this morning in this sermon time – for this is not so much a sermon as it is a tribute to what Jay has brought us, given us, has been, and is to us, as a community – maybe hidden in it is also a piece of sermonizing – anyway when I thought about what needs to be said this morning, the line from the gospel that Jesus speaks to his frightened disciples after the Resurrection kept coming back to me, “Peace be with you.”
And they were terrified and startled and wondering if they were seeing a ghost.
“Peace be with you,” he said. But I wondered all week, had Jesus had just sung them a familiar song, if they might have been spared that fear and jolt and terror? I wonder.
Music “soothes our souls” as one old rock song puts it. It gets our juices flowing when we want to be creative. It causes us to dance even in unexpected places, like the man with Alzheimer’s. Music truly can only be the work of the Spirit, music created by the synergistic artistry of composer in concert with the voice of the eternal Creator. Then the created music performed by artists makes eternal connections between composer, God, and people. I think even secular music does this for us, but I have no doubt of the work of God, the hand of God, in the music we all call sacred. And when we sing hymns over and over again, they become a part of us in a way that continues to define and redefine us. Music is a cradle for our souls to rest in or grown in or where to find a lost connection.
And because God is God and we are merely human, the variety of music that feeds our souls is as different as we are. But that does not change the basic truth of that incredible reality of God’s hand in it all, from composer to performer to hearer and back again to God, like a great circle of love.
For ten years Jay has been the one who opened our souls, and provided the window to God’s love for us, God’s suffering for us, God’s frustration with us, our own love for God, for each other for the church, who provided for us every emotion and truth of our faith and our faith journey through music.
Martin Luther said oh, so many years ago, “Next to the word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world.” And for ten years Jay has opened that treasure to us in every conceivable way.
During Advent he taught our children the Christmas carols that sing our heritage of relationship with an incarnate God!
“Peace on earth and mercy mild God and sinners reconciled.”
He led us to the light of Epiphany:
“I want to walk as a child of the light, I want to follow Jesus.”
And in Lent: “Forty days and forty nights, thou wast fasting in the wild.”
In Lent it seems to me we sang in what I called “minor keys” which sometimes were and sometimes weren’t – but which I seem to find particularly haunting and soulful. During Holy Week we sang of our awe for what Jesus did and our knowledge of our own failings and inability to atone for all that we have done. Through Jay’s perfect touch on the organ and piano, the music helped us to get in touch with our own human failings, our own humanity.
“Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”
And then Easter! Joyous Easter!
“Alleluia, alleluia! Give praise to the risen Lord.”
and
“Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia!”
But it is not just for the identifiable seasons of the year that Jay has nurtured us though song. His music has brought us together, helped us on our own spiritual journey, called us into one voice even in the middle of confusion and conflict. Jay led us as we praised God together.
“Joyful, Joyful, we adore thee, God of glory, Lord of love”
“God is Love, let heaven adore him”
“immortal, invisible, God only wise, in light inaccessible hid from our eyes”
“All my hope on God is founded”
”O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, our shelter from the stormy blast and our eternal home”
. . . and a favorite of Jay’s which I cannot sing no matter how many times I practiced this week, but I need to mention it, say it, because it speaks so eloquently of Jay, of his theology and his faith and his love of all things Anglican. “All praise to thee, for thou, O King divine, didst yield the glory that of right was thine, that in our darkened hearts thy grace might shine. Alleluia!”
Each week Jay and I picked out hymns that reflected the lessons, what was going on in the world, and what was going on in your lives and/or ours, and together we came up with an eclectic mix of music that was intended to speak to us as a community. But I believe, indeed I know, that it was not just the choosing of the music, but the way Jay led it, that made it accessible for us to sing and listen to, that allowed all this music and so much more to grow in us.
Jay is truly a “music minister” because through his music this community has grown, has shed tears, has weathered storms. Through his incredible touch we have celebrated marriages, baptisms, and mourned the dead. We have found our common voice in this eclectic mix, but our souls have learned to sing because jay has led us.
He has taught us bells and chimes, song and chant, rounds and taize, ancient and new, folk, and ever so very Anglican. He taught me and gave me the courage to try to sing this morning*, and song seemed to be the most factual way to honor that gift he has given me personally. He has pushed us to do better and more, all the while praising us when indeed it was he who did the work to make the music that has been accessible to us and learnable and soul nurturing. He is truly God’s instrument in all the music he makes.
God is calling Jay to a new thing: “Sing to the lord a new song!” I believe the Spirit has led him to this new place as the Spirit has worked through him and his music to lead us to be able to go on without him.
Yes, one does wonder, though, in light of the gospel, what if Jesus had sung to the disciples, perhaps a lullaby or an old familiar story or a psalm? What if, instead of saying, “Peace be with you,” he had sung to them, their song, the one they always sang together. I wonder.
Thank you, Jay, for not leaving us wondering, for nurturing us, for teaching us, for enveloping us in such a lovely, powerful, holy way. Go in peace, my friend, but know that you are loved and will be missed by us.
*All the italicized lines from the hymns were sung a cappella.
Amen.
The Rev. Dr. Gale Davis Morris
Church of the Good Shepherd