Paul E. Oakley
Myers Park Baptist Church
Charlotte, North Carolina
July 29, 2001
PATTERNS, REPETITIONS AND ECSTASY
In the fifth century, St. Augustine wrote a treatise entitled, De Musica.
Although music is prominently mentioned in its title, the treatise is actually about
language, and mainly and language of poetry. In this document Augustine wrote, "those
who sing, pray twice." And with these words he was on to something very significant.
Augustine’s intuitions regarding the similarities between spoken language and musical
language would have seemed impossible to prove in the fifth century, but they have been
tested and proved scientifically in the sophisticated brain research of the last decade.
I was to learn a lesson about languages and worship on an unbearably hot April evening
in Pueblo, Colorado. I had been invited by my organ teacher to sing with the Men and Boys
Choir of the Church of the Ascension for the Feast of the Ascension. My father was a
Southern Baptist minister, and in my life experience the verbal language had largely
dominated worship. My father preached long sermons, offered long prayers, and loved to
talk a great deal at the time of the announcements. Both of my parents are extroverted to
the extreme, which must be what makes my introversion so surprising.
Anyway, there I was in cassock and surplice, processing around the aisles of the
over-filled nave of the tiny church. I saw the crucifer leading the way with the first
processional cross; I observed the highly colorful vestments worn by the clergy and the
paraments in the Chancel and Sanctuary; I smelled the sweet smell of incense billowing
from the thurible; I watched people bowing as the cross passed by; and after my own simple
bow at the altar I heard the organist add the ceremonial reeds, and we began to heartily
sing a soaring descant to "Alleluia, Sing to Jesus." Later, in that same
service, I tasted the bread and wine, knelt to confess my sins, and crossed myself each
time Fr. Mennick did. (Although I wouldn’t know why I was doing this for some months yet
to come.)
In that Ascension Day service new languages of worship were added to the verbal one
that I knew. Namely, the visual language (seen in the colors, icons, and liturgical
vessels); the kinesthetic language of movement (experienced in the festival procession,
standing, sitting, kneeling, bowing); the sonic language of powerful music, and the sounds
of running water being poured in the baptismal font, the sounds of the preparation of the
Lord’s table, and the sounds of those walking up stone aisles to receive Holy Communion.
To this was added the sense of smell with the incense, and of course the most decadent
sense within my Baptist sensibility, my first taste of wine. This wholly sensory worship
was profoundly different than anything I had ever experienced. As in E. E. Cummings poem
printed in the order of service. . . "now the eyes of my eyes were opened and the
ears of my ears awakened."
When St. Augustine said that "those who sing, pray twice," he was stating
that in song the verbal language of text is combined with the sonic language of music
through rhythm, melody, and harmony to create simultaneous prayers.
Song is highly important to Judeo-Christian worship. Not at all because I say so, but
because the scripture, tradition, reason, and experience of the church, when combined, say
so.
One wise Baptist woman in Louisiana once said, "since music has been so important
to the worship of the church then it behooves me to know as much as I can about
music." If dance, or golf, or gymnastics had been given such an exalted place in the
worship of the church, then it would behoove all of us to know as much about those things
as we possibly can. Martin Luther said, "Next to the Word of God, music has the most
exalted place in the worship of God."
The importance of music to worship in the history of our faith is clearly recorded in
the Biblical narrative. At the time of creation, the scriptures record that "the
morning stars sang together." After their exodus from Egyptian captivity Miriam and
her brother Moses led the Children of Israel in a song and dance of triumph. The walls of
Jericho were demolished by the sheer power of the songs played and sung by the people of
Israel.
In II Chronicles, Jehoshophat the King realized that his armies were grossly
out-numbered by his enemy. He was commanded by God to replace the army with religious
singers in their vestments. When the choir went to the battlefield, the fervor of their
praises to Jehovah confounded the enemy who, in turn, smote each other. I must confess
that in my years as a church musician I have heard a few anthems performed that could
smite an army. But, that’s another story for another day.
When God told Zechariah that he and his elderly wife would bear a son, later known as
John the Baptist, Zechariah laughed. He was struck dumb throughout the pregnancy of
Elizabeth. After the birth of his child, when his mouth was opened he didn’t speak, he
sang, "blessed be the God of Israel who sets his people free." When Mary had
confirmation of the words given to her by the Annunciation angel, she was too overwhelmed
to speak. She sang a song she had learned in Sabbath School, "My soul magnifies the
Lord, and my Spirit rejoices in God my Savior." It was a quoting of the song sung by
Hannah, the mother of Samuel, after God had granted her wish for a son.
At the birth of Jesus the choirs of angels sang the words sung so beautifully this
morning: "Glory to God in the highest, and peace to God’s people on the
earth." And the song goes on throughout the scriptures, with the songs of the
synagogue, the early Christian church, the church historic, the church here assembled, and
culminating in that song that will be sung when God’s time has been fulfilled:
"Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, riches, wisdom and strength
forever and ever."
So what, then, makes music so important? How does music actually touch us? These
questions have lacked adequate answers for many years. However, because of the amazing
strides in brain research during the late twentieth century we can begin to understand how
music actually reaches and affects us. Much of the scientific information for this sermon
comes from a very interesting book, "Music, the Brain, and Ecstasy," by Robert
Jourdian.
First of all, we must know that certain musical functions are processed in diverse but
localized parts of the brain. The generalizations that the left-brain is "coldly
analytical" and the right brain is "mystically intuitive" are not proven to
be accurate. Different parts of the brain are responsible for different functions of the
body and mind.
In music, for instance, dominance in processing melodies goes to the right brain. But,
when that melody becomes a theme that is highly developed, the left brain begins to
dominate. Harmonies tend to be recognized in the right brain, while the left brain favors
rhythm. The brain shares information and function between hemispheres in a process called
"lateralization."
Music and spoken language share many similarities. Jourdian asserts that "both are
about long, highly organized streams of sound." As children, we learn to understand
both music and language merely by exposure, without any formal training. However, as the
principles of language and music are studied, the hidden meanings of words, phrases, and
melodies become clearer.
For instance, the phrase "thank you" means something different to a child who
is learning to be polite than it does when used to thank someone for saving your life.
Likewise, music and language are both heard and understood in levels. At the most
primitive level, the brain listens to melody by identifying patterns it can understand and
correlate. The composer uses these patterns of sound to captivate the imagination of the
listener. When the imagination of the listener is engaged, an emotional reaction follows.
In the portion of the Vivaldi "Gloria" already sung this morning I wish to
point out a couple of musical events that might illustrate the points I am trying to make.
In the first movement, after a brilliant orchestral and choral fanfare in D Major (the
brightest sounding key in music), the choir begins a sequence of repetitions on the word
"Gloria." There is a rhythmic and harmonic pattern established for the listener.
As each word is sung the harmonic movement has an upward mobility developing to its point
of conclusion (in music we call such conclusions, cadences).
The brain hears the pattern and interprets the rising sequence with increasing
emotional tension, releasing only at the moment of cadence. The theological imagination
can easily consider this the praises of the people of God being lifted up in increasingly
fervent acts of worship. The brain establishes the pattern of movement and begins to
prepare the litener for the appropriate emotional elation.
In stark contrast, the second movement (Et in terra pax) begins in a minor key with a
melodic movement that accentuates downward motion. This downward motion can be heard as
theologically symbolic of the handing down of the gift of peace to God’s people on
earth.
Minor keys do sound more somber to the listener than do major keys. This is not a
subjective reality, rather it is scientific fact. The lowered third scale degree in a
minor key actually causes fewer overtones to be heard within a chord, and the minor key
has less audible brilliance than the major key.
With or without intent, Vivaldi aptly symbolizes that peace is not the absence of
conflict, but learning to live with and resolve conflict. He does this through the
creative use of dissonance and consonance. Dissonant intervals cause a heightened
emotional response in the right brain, and thus cause a sense of suspense that cries out
for resolution. This suspension and resolution of dissonance is one of music’s greatest
manipulative tools.
In the right hands these musical devices can lead us to deeper, richer, and fuller
worship. In the wrong hands the same tools can become cheap devices to bring about
pre-planned human emotional manipulation. This is what brings us to today’s lessons from
scripture.
The very things that make music the most exalted of art forms in religious ceremony are
the same things that have made music the source of great trouble and heartbreak in the
history of the church.
The gift of language is used as the example in today’s contrasting Biblical stories.
When human arrogance overtakes spiritual wisdom and any sense of Godly humility, the
people believe that they can build a tower that reaches to God, and as they say,
"make a name for themselves." The issue becomes the misuse of God’s gifts to
glorify one’s self and not to glorify God and to edify the whole people of God.
Have you ever experienced a musical performer in any church who seemed to be glorifying
self rather than God? If so, then you understand what I am talking about.
In the case of Babel, the people found themselves confounded and unable to communicate.
I do not think for a minute that suddenly God made some people speak Spanish and some
speak Italian while others suddenly spoke Cantonese, as I was taught as a child. Rather,
common sense tells me that a group of people divided in purpose and committed to their own
ends can speak the same national language and still not hear or understand one another.
In contrast, on the Day of Pentecost, people from all parts of the known world were
gathered together with a common purpose, namely, to see what amazing work God was going to
do on earth after the ascension of Christ. Rather than "doing" or
"building" anything to edify or even pacify themselves, they were simply waiting
on the Spirit of God to give them a common purpose, goal, and vision. The result was
astounding. People who could not even speak the same language were able to forge a bond of
understanding so real as to transcend the boundaries of language.
When excellent text is wed to appropriate music, and is performed with a high degree of
skill by those who wish to glorify God and not themselves, something magic occurs, a sort
of Pentecostal moment where mutuality and understanding becomes more important than the
realization of the talent level of any one person or group of people.
I am a performer. As you know, I travel around the world performing music. However, I
do not feel called by God to entertain you, or to amaze, astound, or disappoint you with
my own gifts or the lack thereof. Rather, I am called by God to help each one of you,
whatever your musical experience, to enhance your knowledge of music and thus, to increase
the vitality of your participation in both corporate and personal worship.
So, what does this have to do with music, the brain, and ecstasy? Ecstasy is used in
the sermon title as an illustrative word and not as an actual goal for your emotional
direction. It is a symbol. Jourdian states that "ecstasy can be more than extreme
pleasure, more than merely raising gooseflesh. Ecstasy melts the boundaries of our being,
reveals our bonds to the external world, engulfs us in feelings that are ‘oceanic.’"
Ecstasy cannot occur from any external stimulation. Ecstasy happens within ourselves.
The language of music, and its ecstatic "Pentecostal power" is available to
everyone who is willing to make him or herself vulnerable to its influence. Every person
who does not suffer any major auditory challenge can be taught to match pitch. Everyone
can learn enough about music to be stirred or comforted by its unique charms. This means
you. However, we must be willing to render ourselves vulnerable to emotional response,
even in this formal setting and in this large assembly, in order for music to have any
lasting effect on our emotional and spiritual response to God.
The spiritual life for those who live in our culture is not a taking on of anything.
Rather, it is a willingness to give up elements of control, to give one’s self over to
the power of God in our lives. (This is a fundamental challenge for any conductor, whose
chief musical responsibility is to guide rehearsals and performances.)
With what we know about musical response in the brain, we are more able now than at any
previous time to make music a tool to glorify God and to edify the church. And as with all
technological advance, we are more able than ever to distort and manipulate, using the
powers of music to accomplish our own human ends.
I stand before you here, your Minister of Music, a person with an ego large enough to
have the desire to stand in front of large groups of people and make music. But, today I
stand before you committed to your spiritual and musical well being. I promise that I will
not knowingly misuse the power of music to manipulate you or to use you to accomplish my
own purposes. And I ask of you enough vulnerability that my ministry with you can be a
joint venture into the life changing experiences that music can provide in the most
significant parts of your lives.
Will you open your minds, and your hearts to the power of music and worship? And, for
God’s sake, will you open your mouths and join in the songs of this congregation with
joyful abandon? Will you walk with me on a musical pilgrimage that continues to bring in
the kingdom of God on this strategic corner in this significant city? This is what I ask
of you today.
Amen, so let it be.
