Lyrics For The Centuries
Sermon
Lyrics for the Centuries
Sermons For The Sundays after Pentecost (First Third)
When David received the report of the battlefield deaths of Saul and Jonathan, he expressed his sorrow and tribute by composing and chanting a lament, that beautiful elegy that is today's first reading. A line from an old spiritual comes to mind. "Little David, play on your harp." Yes, David, play and sing for us the lyrics that span the centuries. Sing the songs that help us express our mourning while celebrating the lives of those whose loss we mourn. Sing us the songs that sustain us when we are beset by ills and those that buoy us in the struggle for justice and peace. Give us the canticles to express praise and thanksgiving and the poetry of confession. David, take up your harp for us.
Think of David and what picture comes to mind? My guess is the picture inherited from early days in church school, that of the shepherd boy downing Goliath with a slingshot, the warrior lad who became the king of Israel. Today, I invite you to think of him as a musician, composer, and minstrel. David was a singer of songs. His songs are part of our spiritual heritage. Some musicians come along and their music speaks to a particular decade. The lyrics of David span the centuries. David is the patron of the great music of the faith. His battles are part of the dust of history. His lyrics endure and forever surface in our liturgy.
In Joseph Heller's comic novel, God Knows, David tells his story. At one point he has this to say as he compares himself to Moses. "Moses has the Ten Commandments, it's true, but I've got much better lines. I've got the poetry and passion, savage violence and the plain raw civilizing grief of human heartbreak. 'The beauty of Israel is slain upon the high places.' That sentence is mine and so is 'They were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions. My psalms last.' "1 David's psalms have indeed endured and we can with justification call him the patron of choral music in the community of faith.
As a small boy David probably learned to play the harp as a means of earning a livelihood. As the youngest son in a large family he would receive no inheritance. That went to the oldest son. David's talent probably suggested the vocation of minstrel. Such musicians not only entertained as they do today, they also accompanied the prophetic groups who danced ecstatically, like the proverbial whirling dervishes of the Middle East. When David entered the court of Saul, it was as a musician whose task was to soothe the tortured brow of Saul with harp and song. Music therapy is not new. How many of us find renewal in just listening to music that nourishes us?
Every age has its own background music that can stir, soothe, or even inflame. During our own civil war the "Battle Cry of Freedom" rallied Union troops while the "Bonny Blue Flag" stirred Confederate soldiers. Hitler's brown shirts marched into history inflamed by the music and lyrics of the Horst Wessel song. Think of the influence of the songs of Bob Dylan during the '60s or the confidence of those who struggled for human rights expressed in the song, "We Shall Overcome." The latter decades of this century have moved from soft rock to hard rock to acid rock and heavy metal to gangster rap. Every decade produces its own music. Much of it just fades into the wind. The great music endures with its power to enlarge our horizons beyond the present.
The Shawshank Redemption, a film based on a story by Stephen King, featured Tim Robbins as Andy Duffresne, a man wrongly convicted of murdering his wife. Morgan Freeman played the role of Red Redding, a prisoner who as a youth forty years before had been convicted of murder. In prison the two became friends. Andy manages after years of letter writing to secure state funds to furnish a prison library. One day he plays a record over the prison public address system, a soprano duet from the Marriage of Figaro by Mozart. The whole prison population grew silent and listened, those at work in the shops, those in the yard, those in the infirmary. The warden was angered and Andy ended up in solitary. Speaking of the influence of the music, Red said, "It was like some beautiful bird had come into our little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the moment every man at Shawshank felt free."
When Andy returned from solitary confinement his prison mates asked how it had gone. He told them, "I had Mozart to keep me company." "Did you tote that record player down there?" one of his buddies asked. Pointing to his head and heart Andy replied, "It's in here and here. That's the benefit of music. They can't take that away from you. It makes you remember places in the world that are not made of stone. There is something inside that they cannot touch. It's yours." When a friend asked what he was talking about, Andy said simply, "Hope!"
One sort of music that abides for many is jazz. I recently had occasion to ask a friend what he intended to do on vacation. "Listen to my jazz albums," he replied. Those of you who find similar nourishment in jazz may remember the film story of Dale Turner, a solo saxophonist. The film was Round Midnight. One scene is set in a jazz club. The time is a late October evening around midnight. The musicians are on break and the patrons are doing whatever patrons do during a break in the music. Dale goes out in the alley behind the club just to be by himself. When the musicians return to resume playing, Dale does not return. One of them goes out to look for him to see if he is all right. Dale answers him, "I am so weary; I'm tired of everything except the music."
Some music lasts and Heller's David had the right of it. David's psalms have lasted. There are two different estimates of David in the biblical narratives. In the narratives of Samuel we meet him as he was. He was many things: passionate, politically astute, devout, deceitful, loyal, self-serving, capable of magnanimous gestures, capable too of arranging a man's death, a public success, a private failure with public consequences, compassionate yet also vindictive. That's a mix of attributes, isn't it? Aren't we all a mix? The narrative in Samuel is unsparing when it comes to revealing the clay feet of David. The dark side of life is not glossed over.
There is another view of David that comes through loud and clear in the biblical books of Chronicles. The story of David, Bathsheba, and David's complicity in the death of her husband, Uriah, is omitted. Chronicles tells of another side of David. The Priestly writers tell of David's plans for the new temple, his organizing of the priesthood, and his institution of music in the liturgy. Chronicles recognizes David's capacity for deep devotion and credits him as the patron of sacred music. If David's horns are visible in Samuel, his halo shines forth in Chronicles. But then, again, aren't we all a mix of horns and haloes?
David composed and sang psalms: psalms of lament, thanksgiving, complaint; psalms that are prayers for deliverance, and others that are pleas for Divine mercy. Some are surely present in the Book of Psalms even though most were probably composed by others over the long and volatile history of the community of faith. Just surf through the Book of Psalms and note how the liturgists of Israel tied many to events in the life of David. In Israel the many-faceted David became the representative of all of us who face threats from enemies within and without, sin and suffer for our sins, hope against hope and despite our contradictions and frailty seek to continue living before God.
Do you recall the film, Amadeus, that won praises several years ago? It was the story of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Mozart's music was much better than he was. That is true of us also. Our music and our hymns are much better than we are. But, reflect! Amadeus means "love of God." There is the interpretive key not only to Mozart's story and David's story, but also to ours. Grace reigns and that's what our hymns and anthems are all about. Here are lyrics that span the centuries, lyrics for life, lyrics for the times of sunrise and times when it's 'round midnight.
I leave with you these lines from an ancient hymn of the church, "Jerusalem, My Happy Home."
There David stands with harp in hand
As master of the choir;
Ten thousand times that one were blest
That might this music hear.
There Mary sings Magnificat
With tune surpassing sweet;
And all the sisters bear their part,
Sitting about her feet.
____________
1. Heller, Joseph. God Knows. (Alfred A. Knopf: New York. 1984), p. 5.
Think of David and what picture comes to mind? My guess is the picture inherited from early days in church school, that of the shepherd boy downing Goliath with a slingshot, the warrior lad who became the king of Israel. Today, I invite you to think of him as a musician, composer, and minstrel. David was a singer of songs. His songs are part of our spiritual heritage. Some musicians come along and their music speaks to a particular decade. The lyrics of David span the centuries. David is the patron of the great music of the faith. His battles are part of the dust of history. His lyrics endure and forever surface in our liturgy.
In Joseph Heller's comic novel, God Knows, David tells his story. At one point he has this to say as he compares himself to Moses. "Moses has the Ten Commandments, it's true, but I've got much better lines. I've got the poetry and passion, savage violence and the plain raw civilizing grief of human heartbreak. 'The beauty of Israel is slain upon the high places.' That sentence is mine and so is 'They were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions. My psalms last.' "1 David's psalms have indeed endured and we can with justification call him the patron of choral music in the community of faith.
As a small boy David probably learned to play the harp as a means of earning a livelihood. As the youngest son in a large family he would receive no inheritance. That went to the oldest son. David's talent probably suggested the vocation of minstrel. Such musicians not only entertained as they do today, they also accompanied the prophetic groups who danced ecstatically, like the proverbial whirling dervishes of the Middle East. When David entered the court of Saul, it was as a musician whose task was to soothe the tortured brow of Saul with harp and song. Music therapy is not new. How many of us find renewal in just listening to music that nourishes us?
Every age has its own background music that can stir, soothe, or even inflame. During our own civil war the "Battle Cry of Freedom" rallied Union troops while the "Bonny Blue Flag" stirred Confederate soldiers. Hitler's brown shirts marched into history inflamed by the music and lyrics of the Horst Wessel song. Think of the influence of the songs of Bob Dylan during the '60s or the confidence of those who struggled for human rights expressed in the song, "We Shall Overcome." The latter decades of this century have moved from soft rock to hard rock to acid rock and heavy metal to gangster rap. Every decade produces its own music. Much of it just fades into the wind. The great music endures with its power to enlarge our horizons beyond the present.
The Shawshank Redemption, a film based on a story by Stephen King, featured Tim Robbins as Andy Duffresne, a man wrongly convicted of murdering his wife. Morgan Freeman played the role of Red Redding, a prisoner who as a youth forty years before had been convicted of murder. In prison the two became friends. Andy manages after years of letter writing to secure state funds to furnish a prison library. One day he plays a record over the prison public address system, a soprano duet from the Marriage of Figaro by Mozart. The whole prison population grew silent and listened, those at work in the shops, those in the yard, those in the infirmary. The warden was angered and Andy ended up in solitary. Speaking of the influence of the music, Red said, "It was like some beautiful bird had come into our little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the moment every man at Shawshank felt free."
When Andy returned from solitary confinement his prison mates asked how it had gone. He told them, "I had Mozart to keep me company." "Did you tote that record player down there?" one of his buddies asked. Pointing to his head and heart Andy replied, "It's in here and here. That's the benefit of music. They can't take that away from you. It makes you remember places in the world that are not made of stone. There is something inside that they cannot touch. It's yours." When a friend asked what he was talking about, Andy said simply, "Hope!"
One sort of music that abides for many is jazz. I recently had occasion to ask a friend what he intended to do on vacation. "Listen to my jazz albums," he replied. Those of you who find similar nourishment in jazz may remember the film story of Dale Turner, a solo saxophonist. The film was Round Midnight. One scene is set in a jazz club. The time is a late October evening around midnight. The musicians are on break and the patrons are doing whatever patrons do during a break in the music. Dale goes out in the alley behind the club just to be by himself. When the musicians return to resume playing, Dale does not return. One of them goes out to look for him to see if he is all right. Dale answers him, "I am so weary; I'm tired of everything except the music."
Some music lasts and Heller's David had the right of it. David's psalms have lasted. There are two different estimates of David in the biblical narratives. In the narratives of Samuel we meet him as he was. He was many things: passionate, politically astute, devout, deceitful, loyal, self-serving, capable of magnanimous gestures, capable too of arranging a man's death, a public success, a private failure with public consequences, compassionate yet also vindictive. That's a mix of attributes, isn't it? Aren't we all a mix? The narrative in Samuel is unsparing when it comes to revealing the clay feet of David. The dark side of life is not glossed over.
There is another view of David that comes through loud and clear in the biblical books of Chronicles. The story of David, Bathsheba, and David's complicity in the death of her husband, Uriah, is omitted. Chronicles tells of another side of David. The Priestly writers tell of David's plans for the new temple, his organizing of the priesthood, and his institution of music in the liturgy. Chronicles recognizes David's capacity for deep devotion and credits him as the patron of sacred music. If David's horns are visible in Samuel, his halo shines forth in Chronicles. But then, again, aren't we all a mix of horns and haloes?
David composed and sang psalms: psalms of lament, thanksgiving, complaint; psalms that are prayers for deliverance, and others that are pleas for Divine mercy. Some are surely present in the Book of Psalms even though most were probably composed by others over the long and volatile history of the community of faith. Just surf through the Book of Psalms and note how the liturgists of Israel tied many to events in the life of David. In Israel the many-faceted David became the representative of all of us who face threats from enemies within and without, sin and suffer for our sins, hope against hope and despite our contradictions and frailty seek to continue living before God.
Do you recall the film, Amadeus, that won praises several years ago? It was the story of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Mozart's music was much better than he was. That is true of us also. Our music and our hymns are much better than we are. But, reflect! Amadeus means "love of God." There is the interpretive key not only to Mozart's story and David's story, but also to ours. Grace reigns and that's what our hymns and anthems are all about. Here are lyrics that span the centuries, lyrics for life, lyrics for the times of sunrise and times when it's 'round midnight.
I leave with you these lines from an ancient hymn of the church, "Jerusalem, My Happy Home."
There David stands with harp in hand
As master of the choir;
Ten thousand times that one were blest
That might this music hear.
There Mary sings Magnificat
With tune surpassing sweet;
And all the sisters bear their part,
Sitting about her feet.
____________
1. Heller, Joseph. God Knows. (Alfred A. Knopf: New York. 1984), p. 5.
