Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Getting the Settings Right

In talking with Matt on Sunday evening, he shared with us that in one of his conversations early in the morning a friend had directed him to the 'Mamas and Papas', and their hit, "Monday, Monday"on YouTube. The song found a place with him, so much so that he set up a 'Mamas and Papas' radio station on Pandora and listened to that genre of music all day long.


Having grown up in the generation of the Mamas and Papas, I wasn't sure whether to be glad that Matt had finally 'come to the light' and is now savoring the sounds of 'real music' or get depressed that Matt didn't know that 'Monday, Monday' was a great way to start the week long before he found the video?! Either way, whether the proud father of an emerging music aficionado or a father licking the wounds of his battered pride, my mind started mulling on the whole notion of Pandora and the implications of genre focused music in our daily living.


In an attitude of complete transparency, even as I write these words, the music of the "Wondrous Love" radio station is playing on Pandora on my laptop. I set up that station with the hope that the music played would reflect the hymn "What Wondrous Love Is This?" Instead, I found a rich, varied and eclectic mixture of music that spans generations of hymnody and delves deeply into the diverse genre of cultural and religious experience, often the ready fodder of musical expression. This type of music quiets my soul, stills the busy calendar and focuses my heart on that which is important for the day . . . which brings be back to Matt, "Monday, Monday", and Pandora.


Wouldn't life be better if we could just 'program' what we wanted to hear, what we wanted to see, what we wanted to smell, taste or touch? Wouldn't life be easier if we didn't have to put up with the commercial distractions, the music we didn't like, and the announcers or commentators to which we didn't want to listen? Wouldn't life be more manageable if choices were categorized, if daily decisions could be 'streamed' like satellite radio, and our moment to moment options could find resolution in genre rather than specificity?


Pandora Radio on the Internet hints, in and of its own name, the dichotomy which flows just under the seemingly tranquil surface in opening the box which is Pandora: When you get everything you want and everything you want is exactly the way you want it, how long will it be before 'everything you want' becomes all that you know? Though I'm fairly certain Matt had no idea what his simple Monday evening comment would evoke in my thinking, what he evoked touches much of where we are as a people, as a nation, and as a world: So much time is spent 'getting the settings right' in our lives, making sure that everything we want to hear, see, touch, smell and taste is exactly the way we want it, and that all else is shut out from our daily experience, that we give up the flavor, the wonder and the joy which is the diversity of God's creation. If all animals were giraffe's, if all days were sunny, if all leaves were green, or if all music was the Mamas and Papas, where would be the richness, the sensuousness, the depth of awe in a Black Lab, a rainbow or Bach?


Republicans cannot bear listening to Democrats, just as Democrats won't tolerate the voice of Republicans, even as the Tea Party believes theirs is the only accurate song. The Middle East sees Western cultural aggression, just as the West paints the Middle Eastern desire for sovereignty in tones of religious orthodoxy, and the Far East benefits from everyone else's growing economic debts and military weariness. Christian traditions are denominationally split by the very sacramental practices Jesus instituted to make God's children one, community congregations are divided by 'who's in and who's out' and by 'who's right and who's not', and neighborhoods make distinctions by color, race, economic viability, sexuality, and the employment sector you are in. And, everyone turns to the Pandora station they want to hear, certain little else will meet their needs . . .


Just for the record: Jesus wasn't Christian, nor did He spend all His time in Nazareth, nor would He ignore the lepers, nor would He not feed the hungry, or visit the sick, or tend to the naked, or welcome the stranger, or free the imprisoned. Jesus was not Catholic, nor Protestant. Jesus instituted sacramental living as the way to come to faith, not as a sacramental hammer to batter folks into obedience. Jesus is God's expression of God listening to all the world's music, to hearing all the world's children, and to meeting all the world's needs, not just the ones which agree with God. The Christian tradition which does not reflect the Christ of our faith is neither Christian, nor a tradition, it is just another station on the radio.


You and I might like listening to Pandora, yet in the moment that Pandora Radio becomes the paradigm of our living, life is lost and the freedom we enjoy has become our Master.


Listen to Pandora Radio as one way of experiencing the fullness of all that God offers in the world, not as a way of escaping it. Listen to Pandora as one way of focusing, not as the only way be being. Listen to Pandora as a way of opening the ongoing history of music, not as a way to get stuck in it.


Matt's right: "Monday, Monday" is a great song by the Mamas and Papas. Yet, if we ignore "That Sunday That Summer" by Nat King Cole, we will have missed the rest of the week's music. 'Getting the settings right' in our listening does not mean getting stuck on just one station. Savor all that God is creating and, in so living, God opens us to savor even more.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The Heart of the Matter

Pastor Don's Corner . . .
"As a father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him. For he knows how we were made; he remembers that we are dust." Psalm 103.13-14
Recently, I was told the story of a home fire in which the father got the wife out, then went back into the blaze to save his young son. Both father and son were lost in the collapsing building. The person telling it recalled the event in tears and with startling clarity given the time which had passed since the event, yet there are some things which happen in our lives which seldom ever leave the depth of our heart's capacity to recall.
Case in point, the current heat and humidity which our region is experiencing: It seems a bane to most yet, for many, it inspires the blessing of memory, reliving the days gone by when air conditioners weren't the norm and families still got by on the grace of screened porches and fans. The number of such stories being told expands exponentially as the temperature goes up, as does the vivid recollection of summer evening neighborhood games among kids and visiting among neighbors. (Author, Phillip Gulley, refers to those days as 'Front Porch' memories and attributes much of the decline in the current culture's civility to the fact that few people have 'front porches' and/or don't sit on them, choosing rather to dwell in air conditioned comfort and isolation.) Amazingly to me, what people recall most in such stories is not the heat, but the feelings of the heart which still evoke an emotional response today. Who knew that a fan in a window or a game of Relievo or cicadas in the trees or a parent's voice calling children home late in the evening or the quiet buzz of neighbors visiting along the dusky street, could bring to mind such joy and peace? "I remember the heat and drought of '57 . . . . we didn't have much, but we had enough . . . . and what we had we shared." The heart doesn't forget what shapes the soul, nor does the soul venture far from what inspires the heart to beat.
A man tells me his wife left him for another man whom, she believes, can give her more than he ever could. Hot tears stream down his face as he wrestles with relocating his life, his residence, his way of being, his love, and his care for their children, yet in the midst of it all, the thing most clear to him is how much he still loves her - and how wonderful their years together were. To him, infidelity is not the issue, his continuing love for her is. His heart remembers only the good and those memories serve to insulate him from the pain she is inflicting upon him, as the heat of the day increases and the home of their marriage collapses around him. His soul won't give in to despair, neither will his heart forget its way.
Some may say such is the way of self-destructive living - and they may be right. Yet, is not this the same sort of behavior for which we pray of God? God, rush back into the fires of my own making and save my life before my world collapses around me! God, remind me of the days when I prayed in the cold of a winter's night for the heat of a summer day and the joy associated with such a day! God, love me beyond my infidelity to you and tend to me even when I have offered my life, my time, and my riches to another! Answer me when I call, O God, for You are steadfast in love and, though my living does not reflect it, it is You my heart remembers, it is You for which my soul longs!
The heart doesn't forget what shapes the soul, nor does the soul venture far from what inspires the heart to beat.
To give oneself for the life of another, to remember with joy the blessings of a better time, and to linger in remembrance of love for consideration of one who chooses no longer to love the way you do: Are these not among the gifts of God come to us in Jesus Christ? Thank you, God!
Your servant in Christ,
Pastor Don