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.

Lightning In the Dark

Have you ever just laid in bed and watched the lightning flash in the windows? As the late Winter rain poured down upon the roof just over our heads last night, the lightning flashed through the windows, edging into the darkness of our room along the sides of the pulled shades. First the lightning, then the rolling thunder. Ahhhhhhhhhh! What a delightful combination! I laid there watching and listening as long as my eyes would allow, timing the sound of the thunder after the flash of the lightning to track the approaching storm. Ten seconds, two miles. Five seconds, a mile. Two seconds, less than a quarter mile. I think the next one hit the parking lot next to our home . . . and the thunder rolled.
It reminds me of the Disney movie, "Fantasia", but rather than Mickey Mouse as the conductor of the orchestra I imagine God on the rostrum. God's baton is lifted and all creation waits in breathless silence, then on the first down stroke of the baton, the lightning flashes as the trumpets sound, and the booming bass drum rolls. The sky is lit from the charge emanating through the Conductor's baton, a light show swirling in measured array. The angels and archangels raise their voices as the cherubim and seraphim sing 'Holy, Holy, Holy!' The clouds swirl ever higher and tighter, forcing a deeper darkness upon the land whose only hope and relief is in the music of the light which flashes above and whose answer rumbles through the valley. Then the Conductor smiles as the flutes and piccolo's enter as cued, prompting the moonlight to filter through, first one ray, then two, then the night gives way to brilliant light as the storm is forced beyond the horizon by the sweetness of violin melodies cascading from above.
Maybe that is why I love to watch a band or orchestra perform. Whether presenting a concert on a stage or putting on a show on a field or marching on a street, I am led to think of God at work, even at play, directing all of the players through the interpretive expression of God's imaginative conducting. Lightning flashes as the cymbals crash and thunder rolls in the sound of stringed bass instruments growling their reply. All creation is God's composition and we are invited, not only to spectate, but to participate: to be awake when darkness would close our eyes; to listen when all else would turn away; to receive the gift when others have folded up their lawn chairs and left the sweetest candy on the road beside the curb, because they were either too lazy, or too preoccupied with whatever else there was to do, to even notice.
God gives the the most generous gifts in the simplicity and splendor of a late Winter's night thunderstorm. I don't know if you heard it, but I did and I am already looking forward to the next time the Conductor brings the symphony to town. Especially in these days of Holy Week, I do love the sound of God's music ringing out through the streets of our living.
Your servant in Christ,
Pastor Don