SING TO THE LORD A NEW SONG

A Sermon by

James D. Brown and Eric Riley

Market Square Presbyterian Church

January 13, 2008

 

Isaiah 42:1-10 and Matthew 3:13-17

 

Jim: 

This is the Sunday in the year when we look to the baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan by John the Baptist.  It’s a passage that has always intrigued me.  It’s the launch-pad moment for the ministry of Jesus.  Matthew has told us nothing about what happened in Jesus’ life from his infancy until he is about 30.  And now we come to the transcendent moment of Jesus’ baptism. 

 

Today the Jordan looks a bit like the Yellow Breeches due to water being taken out for irrigation—but back in Jesus’ day it was probably more of a river.  There Jesus is undergoing the ritual of repentance that was John’s hallmark.  Suddenly he is swept up in by the power of God.  As he makes his way toward the bank of the river it was as if God’s Spirit alighted on him like a dove from heaven, and he heard a voice telling him that that he was God’s beloved Son, with whom God was well pleased.

 

Note the text.  John and the bystanders did not see and hear what transpired.  Jesus saw the shape of a dove.  Jesus heard God’s call.  It must have been Jesus who told his followers this account as they walked from village to village, as they talked at mealtime and late into the night.  The story had to make their spines tingle, their hearts race, for this was the beginning of a three year mission unlike any that had transpired before or since.  It’s an account that makes you want to sing a song, to cry out in joy.

 

It’s important to be reminded of the place of human emotions in our faith journeys, and the place that music holds in expressing our deepest feelings.  While Nina and I were in Santa Fe with our kids and grandkids this past week, we were snowed in for a whole day.  Isabella and Tanner, with help from Emma, who’s not quite two, made snowmen, built a bobsled run they hurtled down in a large plastic tub they found, and just plain relished the fun of winter.

 

During a warming up time we sat on the couch and watched Sesame Street.  I can’t remember the last time I paid close attention to Elmo and Grover and the gang.  In this particular episode, Grover was conducting a musical piece.  At one point he said, “This music makes me so, so sad.  Does anyone have a hankie?” 

 

All of us on the couch looked sad, too.  And I was reminded again of the way music is tied to our deepest emotions.

 

          Eric plays music that is sad, prayerful, whimsical, festive, and pensive

Jim:

Eric and I have been talking a good deal about what it means for us as a congregation to sing songs that express the moods and substance of our faith—to sing to the Lord a new song as did Isaiah and the Israelites who had been captives in Babylon and were now making their way home. 

 

They too hear God’s voice, reminding them that God created the heavens and the earth, that it was God who gave them the breath of life, that it was God who had taken them by the hand all their days, that it was God who had chosen them to be a light to the nations, that it was God who was now doing the new thing of leading them back to their homeland.

 

We’re dealing with the primal experience of faith in a God who is the Lord of life, whose guiding hand shapes our individual lives and the life of the world.  What then does it mean for people of faith to sing to the Lord a new song?

 

Eric:          

PRAYERFUL, WHIMSICAL, FESTIVE, PENSIVE, JOYFUL, SAD, LONGING, ANGUISH, BRIGHT, CHEERFUL, GRIEF, PLAYFUL, SOMBER.  The list of adjectives that we use to describe music goes on and on.  That music connects so strongly to our emotions is one of the reasons it is so important, powerful, and the subject of such debate in our ceremonies, momentous life occasions and worship experiences.  In religious expression, music is closely connected to theology and its form, style and content says something about the institution’s viewpoint and world-view. 

 

It is right and good that, given the diversity of Christian traditions around the world, Christians have developed a wide variety of worship styles and practices—accompanied and amplified by a wide variety of musical expressions.  In this country, however, we have developed some really polarizing language around worship style and content.  We throw around these terms like traditional and contemporary, to describe what our worship is or should be, but the meaning of these terms changes according to the assumptions brought to the table.  Should we really be using this kind of language to describe divine worship?  Isn’t ALL worship in the here-and-now contemporary?

 

On this subject, in a recent newsletter article Alan Barthel, the Executive Director of the Presbyterian Association of Musicians, puts it this way[i]:

 

The chief responsibility of those who plan worship is to see that

the worship of the people of God places God firmly in the center

of worship, so that we will allow God to be at the center of our lives,

guarding against every attempt to create God in our own image. 

Just saying that is a stinging criticism of placing “adjectives” such as

emerging, traditional, contemporary, blended, etc. before worship,

as each on of them is “designed” to put people’s perceived needs and

tastes before the basic need of having God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit

at the center of every Christian’s life.

What is evident in much worship in today’s church is that it is moving

in the direction of becoming Christian “light”.  We don’t expect to be

shaken from our old ways of living, we don’t expect that worship, in any

of its aspects will challenge us or make demands on us.  We don’t really

expect to carry the cross.  Our Christian “light” worship has turned us

into a bunch of complainers.  “This is too hard to sing, we stand too

much, the sermon was too long,” and on and on.  We seem to have

forgotten that the Worship of God is about the best that the people of

God have to give back to God.

 

And here we come to my point as a leader of music in Christian worship-- the idea of giving back to God the BEST that we have.  Mr. Barthel goes on to say,

 

These adjective-driven worship styles are lies about what the Christian

life is about.  God calls us to the waters of baptism, in order that our lives

may be turned around in those waters.  We die to our old selfish ways to

become selfless followers of Christ who put the needs of others before

our own, and to be evangelists to the world by the way we live in the

world—that our lives may proclaim the mystery of faith.  We come to

the table to be fed the deeply nourishing, healthy, life-giving Word of

God made flesh, so that we may nourish the world on this same living

word.  Worship is done by people of faith, believers, and each time the

faithful gather for worship they should be transformed again into the

Body, moved to deeper levels of faith.

 

 I love the image of nutrition—feeding the soul—as a metaphor for music selection.  I see myself as a nutritionist, of sorts.  We all know how important good nutrition is for developing and maintaining healthy bodies and minds.  I propose to you that good, nutritious music is important in developing and maintaining healthy souls and I make musical choices based, in part, on trying to provide a well-balanced and nutritious diet of music which will feed our souls.  In my opinion, one of the problems in so-called contemporary worship is that much of the music is devoid of soul-sustaining nutrition.  In his article, Mr. Barthel asks, “Is music that does not place demands on us faith-worthy for the worship of God?  Worship demands the best we have to offer, not easy theology, not easy listening and certainly not ditties that offer nothing of theological or musical depth.”

 

So what does it mean to sing to the Lord a new song?  Well, for me it DOES NOT mean capitulating to the latest fads and fashions in music and worship.  But it DOES mean a willingness to explore the breadth and depth of nutritious music and worship practices from around the world and across the centuries – things that may be new and outside of my “comfort zone” of training and experience.  We have, in this place I am coming to love, an example of this new song in the form of Taize-style worship—a worship form developed across the Atlantic ocean, based on ancient principles of chant, repetition, sung-prayer and silence that touches the spirit in a new place, in a new way.  Singing a new song means being open to the unfamiliar, the different, the other in ways that allow our souls to be touched in new places and to grow in new understandings.

Jim:

Eric, several years ago I read something in the Christian Century that encapsulates what you have been saying.  The writer underscores how unhelpful many of the musical labels we use really are:

 

By “traditional” people usually mean music that has grown

out of the Reformation tradition; they don’t have in mind

Gregorian chants or hymns from the Orthodox Church, which

are certainly parts of the tradition.  And by “contemporary”

people usually mean praise songs that are especially popular

in American evangelical churches; they don’t have in mind

music being produced by communities like Taizé in France

or Iona in Scotland, which is also contemporary, or the music

being written by other kinds of contemporary composers. 

And neither camp necessarily welcomes non-Western music,

old or new.  [The Christian Century, July 12, 2003, p. 5]

 

The writer’s bottom line is that “the church needs both the old and the new in music.” 

 

Eric:

One of the things I have found most fascinating in my trips to Italy is the way in which the Italians have preserved and restored ancient buildings while “grafting” on modern, necessary elements in ways that do not alter the character or foundations of these magnificent edifices.  Modern heating systems, restrooms, electrical service, plumbing, lighting, etc. make these buildings more relevant and usable in contemporary society. 

 

In some of the church sanctuaries, reverberation time exceeds seven seconds!  You might imagine that in that kind of acoustic environment, the spoken word would be completely unintelligible.  But, once again, the Italians use modern technology in amplification and digital delay in a way that makes the spoken word clearly heard around the room.  And this technology is so cleverly disguised that you have to look hard to see the means by which this is accomplished.  The beauty and character of these rooms is unaffected.

 

This is an architectural example of what I think it means to sing to the lord a new song.  One respects and preserves the past while building new things upon that foundation that do not destroy the foundation.  I think this is a good metaphor for worship and music, as well as for faith development.  Both need solid foundations upon which to build—the  solid rock, if you will—but also the ability to change and grow in response to changing world view, scientific discovery, sociological insights and physical realities. 

 

In music, organists do not play the music of J. S. Bach like we did thirty years ago.  Musicological research and discoveries inform the way we “interpret” this music.  The notes are the same as they were three hundred years ago – the foundation is intact, but what we build on that foundation has changed. 

 

The sun does not revolve around the earth, the world was not created in six consecutive twenty-four-hour time periods and all of humanity did not spring from one human breeding pair.  These are “modern” insights that can enliven the faith built on the unchanging understanding of God as the creator of the universe, the earth and of humankind.  In our music and worship, we strive to respect and build upon the foundation of the past while seeking greater and greater relevance and power in the present.  Singing a new song to the lord does not jettison the foundation, it builds upon it.

 

Some four months ago, I entered this building for the very first time.  I parked in the garage and entered from there into the atrium.  I was immediately struck by the very thing I had admired so often in Europe – this modern atrium, with light and heat and restrooms and gathering space – grafted on to the more than century-old sanctuary.  This changes not the wonderful character of this worship space, but it does make it more relevant and useful to the worshipers of 2008.  I hope that our music, worship and the living out of our faith together will reflect the architecture of our building.

 

Jim:

Eric, I have found our conversation to be most helpful.  It’s clear to me that what we are doing this morning is inviting the whole congregation into ongoing conversation about the place of music in our common life, and what it means for us to sing to the Lord a new song. 

 

Your imagery take from the realm of architecture makes one thing crystal clear.  Any new songs we sing to the Lord will build on the old, for each new generation is really adding its stanza to what already is.[ii]  This is so clear in Isaiah’s case, and it is abundantly clear in the New Testament as the early church built its faith and its songs on the foundation of what had come before.  To be part of the confluence of the old and the new is like unto Jesus stepping out of the Jordan and inviting us, right now, to join him in singing a new song to the Lord as we join with him in transforming the world into the Kingdom of God.

 

Eric begins “Jesus, Remember Me”

MARKET SQUARE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Sing to the Lord a New Song