Inaugural Thoughts

I am ambivalent about the idea of boycotting Donald Trump’s inauguration.  On the one hand, I see the point of refusing to “legitimize” his presidency. I respect that perspective and certainly can understand where it comes from.

And on the other hand, I can also understand the argument that boycotting is the same kind of petulant behavior that has characterized Washington D.C. for the past several years, and a different tone needs to be set. By someone – anyone! And that could start with Mr. Trump’s opponents this year.

So I’m not going to judge anyone for attending, nor will I judge anyone for boycotting. You do you. All I can do is make up my own mind.

So I’m not boycotting. (Of course, I’m not attending, but I’ll be watching it.) And the reason I’m not boycotting is because I want to keep my eyes as wide open as possible. I am one of the “we the people” to whom this nation belongs, and I want to be a part of it as fully as I am able.

Like you, I have seen and heard the things Mr. Trump has been doing, both during the campaign and since election day. Like you, I have opinions about all those things. Like many of you, most of those opinions are not favorable.

See, I believe that Donald Trump himself has revealed exactly who he is. I am relying on nothing but his own words and actions to form my opinion of what kind of president he will be. And based on his own words and actions, his own record, his own long and well-documented public history, I cannot see how he will be able to handle the responsibilities of the presidency in an effective way. Frankly, I am afraid that it is going to be a complete disaster.

But with that said, I do not believe that is a reason for me to boycott the inauguration events. In fact, I see that as a reason for me to watch. I prefer to “stay woke” at this point, as the saying goes. And to me, that means not boycotting him, but rather the opposite – scrutinizing him.

The Missouri State University Choir is singing at the inauguration, and many have questioned their presence, indicating that it is an endorsement of Mr. Trump’s presidency. I do not agree. In fact, I think the song they are singing is a pretty profound protest against some of what Mr. Trump stands for.

It is called “Now We Belong,” written by Minnesota poet Michael Dennis Browne.

Here are the voices of every creature,

            Here are the calls of every heart;

Here is the place of strangers’ welcome,

            We who once walked in strangers’ shoes.

Once we were strangers,

            We were welcomed,

Now we belong and believe in this land.

Here are the rivers of many echoes,

            Here are the leaves of every tree;

Within us live the long horizons,

            Winds that stir the sacred stones.

Once we were strangers,

            We were welcomed,

Now we belong and believe in this land.

Keep faith, keep watch,

Take heart, take courage,

Guard mind, guard spirit,

Feed love, feed longing.

Here are the cities where we have gathered,

            Here are the barns where hope is stored;

We are the gleams of every being,

            Filled with the dreams that build the day.

Once we were strangers,

            We were welcomed,

Now we belong and believe in this land.

Keep faith, guard mind,

Take heart, guard spirit,

Take courage, keep watch,

Feed longing, feed love.

- © Michael Dennis Browne

If nothing else, I will watch the inauguration to hear these prophetic words sung in the presence of the most powerful people in the world, ensuring them that the American people will keep watch, we will guard our minds and our spirits, we will keep faith and take courage.

And most of all, we will love. We belong, we believe, we are not going anywhere. And we will love one another with the fiercest, most powerful love ever witnessed. A love that ensures eyes wide open, ears listening closely, and voices that will not be stilled, until peace and justice are the norm and not just the ideal.

There's a Song in the Air

“Expect the unexpected.” Have you heard that phrase before? It is ironically common these days, such that we almost expect to hear it uttered in certain surprising circumstances. Which of course, defeats its purpose entirely.

This week we are entering a season rich with traditions. Advent, the four weeks of preparation before the twelve days of the Christmas season begin, is a time during which much is deeply familiar. Heirloom decorations are unpacked, plans for annual gatherings of family and friends are made, and greenery and lights are hung on nails that were driven in years ago.

And of course, the familiar music of the season begins.

No other season has music connected to it quite like this one does. Other holidays have musical associations, but the songs of the Christmas season are deeply imprinted on our hearts. Hearing a favorite Christmas song elicits nostalgia, stirs emotions, and elevates our demeanor.

I really enjoy hearing a familiar song in a new and creative arrangement. It’s “tradition with a twist,” a well-known song with a new harmonization or a well-done countermelody or done in a different style than is usually heard. A good new arrangement of a traditional Christmas song manages to connect to the memories of the past while at the same time being fresh and engaging in the present.

Songs play a significant role in Luke’s version of the birth of Jesus. Mary, Zechariah, John, and Simeon, not to mention the angels themselves, all sing songs of praise and worship as a part of Luke’s account. During Advent at Campbell UMC, we are going to use these songs as our Scriptural focus for our worship services, and maybe by doing so, hear the story in a brand new way. In other words, “expect the unexpected!”

“There’s a Song in the Air!” during Advent this year, and all are welcome to sing along!

Sing in the Face of Fear - Advent 3

This is what I wrote for the lighting of the Advent candles yesterday morning. I wrote it weeks ago, so I had kind of forgotten it. When I heard it read aloud at the first service, I thought, "Hey that's pretty good" before remembering that I had, in fact, written it. Awkward.

So anyway, I'd like to share it with you, because I love the idea of singing aloud as a way to overcome fear. I hope you like it.

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Lighting of the Advent Candles - Campbell UMC, 2015

WEEK 3 - December 13

READER 1: Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel!

Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!

The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, he has turned away your enemies.

The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst; you shall fear disaster no more.

On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:

Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands grow weak.

The Lord, your God, is in your midst.

Zephaniah 1, 14 through 16.

(Pause)

READER 2: We are one week nearer to the arrival of Jesus! This week, Zephaniah encourages us to look fear in the face … and sing!

It is a liberating idea, isn’t it, to overcome fear with singing? So often we are told to be afraid, to be cautious, to withdraw and hide from the dangers of the world. In stark contrast, Zephaniah tells us to sing for joy!

Joy does not come from wealth or an abundance of possessions. Our neighbors in the La Laguna community in rural Nicaragua have next to nothing in terms of material possessions, and yet there is great joy among them. No, the source of true joy is not of this world; the source of true joy is God.

Today we light a candle called “Joy,” a song sung in defiance of fear, God’s strong presence in our midst.

(READER 1 lights “Hope,” “Peace,” and “Joy” candles.)

READER 1 (or 3): Joy’s light is added to “hope” and “peace,” illuminating the darkness of fear, and injustice, and poverty, and war. And no darkness will ever overcome it.

Let us pray. (Reprise intro begins)

O come, o come, Emmanuel. You open heaven wide, you liberate the captives, you conquer death itself. You scatter the gloomy clouds of night with the light of your justice.

O God, bind all people together in the gentle cords of grace. May we sing songs of joy in the face of all that we are told to fear.

Show us how to be your gift during this holy season. In the name of Jesus and by the power of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

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My prayer for you is that you have the confidence to sing in defiance of fear. Joy is the assurance of God's strong presence, equipping, energizing, and empowering us to overcome whatever struggles life throws our way.

"I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free!"

Christ the Lord is coming, that the world might joyful be.

What 'The Internet's Favorite Pianist" Can Teach the Church

I heard the radio announcer introduce the upcoming recording with the phrase, “the internet’s favorite pianist.” I was intrigued, so I did what anyone would do, I googled the phrase.

Google told me to read this Washington Post article about Valentina Lisitsa, a conservatory trained, classical, pianist from the Ukraine. Instead of becoming “just another blond Russian ex-pianist,” as she puts it, Lisitsa decided to do something differently. She uploaded a video of her playing piano to YouTube.

Her channel now has over 126,000 subscribers. Every video has tens of thousands of views. The most popular have millions. And what is the content of these videos? Is it edgy, crazy, and weird? Is it violent, aggressive, and arrogant? Is it exhibitionist, shallow, and vain?

Nope. The videos she posts are her sitting at a piano playing classical music, just like classically trained pianists have done for ever and ever before her. And it just so happens that sitting at a piano playing classical music is something that Valentina Lisitsa does very, very well.

The church needs to pay attention to stuff like this – especially the portion of the church that fears change, that doesn't like to do things differently, or that feels like the Gospel is somehow compromised if presented in a different format.

If there is a sub-culture of the world that is even staler than the church, it must be classical music. The stereotype is old, rich, well-dressed people sitting in luxurious places applauding politely at the appropriate times. The perception is that classical musicians are all about the purity of the art form, appreciating the music at a highly knowledgeable level, and staying faithful to the composers’ intentions without deviation. In other words, snobs.

But Valentina Lisitsa says, “We musicians want a bigger audience, we want more people to come and listen. We sometimes act as though you need a great education to understand [classical music]. But I look at who is listening to my videos on YouTube, and it’s people from developing countries, not associated with classical or big concert halls. I see the growth and want to connect with these fans.”

Now, the ironic kicker in her story is that her online success has led to album sales, concerts, and much of the more traditional markers of classical music success. None of which would she have experienced had she not posted a few videos on YouTube seven years ago.

Not that Valentina understood this inherently; she learned it. A DVD of her playing was being uploaded illegally. At first, she was removing the videos one by one as she discovered them. Conventional wisdom is that online access, free downloads and such, will be detrimental to a musician’s career.

“At first I was removing the clips one by one, but then I thought, ‘What am I doing? I’m angering my fans,’ ” she said. “I uploaded it to YouTube and a strange thing happened: It hit number one on Amazon.”

If I might analogize, the music is the Gospel.

The way the music gets to the audience is the church.

If we are unwilling to change the way the music is getting to the audience, then the music will remain unheard.

I do not want the music of the Gospel to go unheard. The church needs to think differently, speak differently, and act differently. We need to stop metaphorically taking down YouTube videos out of fear that it will detract from other markers of so-called “success.”

However, the flipside is also true – I do not want a video of some random person playing Chopsticks to be packaged as the Chopin Etude Opus 10 No.4. Make no mistake, Valentina Lisitsa is a highly talented, conservatory trained pianist whose technical skill and artistic prowess are exceptional. If she was not, there’s no way her Chopin gets 3,750,000 views.

She wanted more people to hear Chopin; she did not want to play “Chopsticks,” thinking somehow it will be more accessible to the audience.

To continue the analogy: sometimes the church thinks we have to change the music so that more people will hear it. Sure, a piano player can start with Chopsticks, but maturing and growing at piano means hard work, moving on from Chopsticks, to “Heart and Soul” and beyond, realizing that Chopin is out there beckoning, inviting, and challenging us to excel.

If the music isn’t getting to the audience, and one of our jobs is making sure it does, then we’re going to want to figure out what to change. It will not suffice to wring our hands and wonder why more people aren’t coming to the concert hall.  Neither will it suffice to put on a concert of repertoire exclusively from Mel Bay’s Big Note Songbook.

We have got to look for new ways to convey the Gospel in new places. We have got to share God’s love with creativity and innovation and vision. We have got to let go of old models and experiment fearlessly.

Dear Church – John Wesley submitted to be more vile for the sake of the Gospel, and we must follow his lead. We have to put Chopin on YouTube. 

Who Teaches Whom?

This morning started with “Character Education” at Cherokee Middle School. Once a month, people of the community (including 4 from Campbell UMC!) come to Cherokee to lead a half-hour character lesson in a classroom.

I have a clever and insightful group of sixth graders this year. I also have some fairly substantial mutton chop sideburns at the moment, because I am in Springfield Little Theater’s production of Les Miserables. Needless to say, mutton chop sideburns elicit a reaction from sixth graders. It was definitely an “ice-breaker.”

At the end of our lesson, a boy named Tristan asked me if I was going to keep the sideburns after the show. I told him that I would if it catches on as a fashion trend.

“NO!” he said, “If it catches on, that’s when you DON’T want to do it because then you’re just doing what everyone else is. You want to be doing your own thing.”

Yeah, there’s your character education, right there!

My second meeting of the day took me to Room 123, where I met with our three three-year-old classes from our congregation's daycare/preschool. It is “Community Helper” week for them, and I had been invited to share with the littles about what I do to help people.

I told them my name and what I do, and told them that I help people by helping them think about God and learn about God and know that God loves us and is with us all the time. I put on my robe and let them look at the symbols on my stole. I showed them a Bible and told them that we use it to learn about God and read stories about God and so forth.

I also brought a hymnal to show them, and told them that one of the things we do when we are with God is to sing. So then we sang “Jesus Loves Me” and “This Little Light of Mine.”

When our time was up, I asked who remembered my name. Most of them did, which was fun. Then I asked, “And who can remember what I do to help people?”

A little girl raised her hand. When I called on her, she paused kind of shy like three-year-olds do sometimes, then she said very softly, “You help us sing.”

And I thought, “I’m good with that.”

When I was ordained, I promised to “diligently instruct the children in every place.” But even better is when the children instruct me.

The "Here I Am Lord" Story

A couple of years into my time as a Director of Music Ministry at First Presbyterian Church of Galesburg, Illinois, I began to feel restless. I loved what I was doing with all of my heart and had a deep commitment to the people of that congregation, but I sensed an unknown nudging.

I know now that the nudging was God’s call into ordained ministry. In my experience, I did not encounter a burning bush, that solitary moment of call. Hindsight has revealed more like a series of mini-calls over the course of two years, little whispers here and there. One of those whispers was “Here I Am, Lord.” So here is the “Here I Am, Lord” story…

(By the way, I mentioned this story way back when, when I wrote a two-part post about being called to ministry. Click this and then this to read it.)

For some, “Here I Am, Lord” is an overdone, trite, and rather cheesy hymn. I agree with that in part, on the surface level, but honestly it is a song with a deeper resonance in my life. It truly stirs my spirit when a congregation joins together in robust voice and belts out the refrain with a full organ and piano accompaniment. Often, people who would never ever otherwise do so close their eyes, tilt their heads back, and lift up their hands in the moment. It’s great!

To tell you the truth, I cannot remember if the “Here I Am, Lord” story took place before or after I had announced to the Galesburg congregation my intention to go to seminary and become an ordained pastor. My memory is telling me that it was after I had made the announcement. Either way, it was another nudge in the direction God wanted me to go with my life.

We had a great kids’ choir program at First Presby, from the preschoolers on up. In the upper elementary choir were two Melissas, who also happened to have last names that started with “B.” So we called them “Bucky” and “Missy B” in order to distinguish them from one another. They were wonderful girls from wonderful families, fourth graders probably, very active and involved in the church.

One afternoon, at the end of rehearsal, the two girls lingered for a little while in the choir room as the other kids went down to their next activity. They wanted to ask me a question, they said.

“What’s your favorite hymn?” Missy B asked.

It is a hard question for me to answer, since I love so many. But the one that came to mind most readily was “Here I Am, Lord.” When I told them, they just sort of nodded and smiled and said they were just wondering. We went downstairs, and I really didn’t think very much more of it at the time.

Well, the next week after rehearsal, they hung back again as the rest of the kids left the room. They held hymnals in their hands. They caught me in the hallway just outside the choir area. “Wait,” said Missy B., “We have something we want to do.” She glanced over at Bucky, who kind of nodded and grinned at her.

They opened the hymnals to the page they had marked with their fingers. Bucky nodded and said, “One, two, three, four,” and they began to sing to me. You guessed it - “Here I Am, Lord.” All of the verses.

We just stood there in that hallway as I listened to them sing. They had worked all week, practicing the song so they could sing it their very best. No congregation, no huge pipe organ, no elaborate praise band. It was just two ten-year-old girls singing with the most sincerity and sweetness that I had ever experienced. I was indescribably moved.

The moment they were done was a holy moment. I didn’t want to say anything that might interrupt it. They closed the books and looked at me with shy but satisfied smiles. Missy B’s face was turning as red as her hair, and Bucky breathed out a small giggle.

I was eventually able to say, “Thank you. That was really great.” I smiled at them and bent down for a big hug.

Nudge.

I have wept for love of them…
…I will hold your people in my heart.