Monday Morning Music Ministry

2-3-20

We tend to think that our times are special, I have noticed: our moments in the long timeline of history; or events in our lives. A natural attitude, not really selfish. We just see most things through the perspective of… our selves. I am trained as a historian, yet I realize that, while not impossible, it is difficult to be separate from our ancestry, our cultural heritage, our environments.

In historical matters, it is wise to remember how many things are not new – Solomon told us, correctly, that there is nothing new under the sun. In spiritual terms, of course, human nature does not change. There has been sin, there is sin, there will be sin. Short of salvation, which frees us from the eternal consequences of sin, that will not change either. A big step forward would be humankind’s recognition of that fact so that we at least might alleviate the misery of life around the edges.

In personal terms, 21st-century people tend to think they are the first generation to discover compassion and curiosity, rights and reform. Yet – especially regarding the bloody century we barely escaped – “rights” are proving malleable, and compassion often is weaponized and selective. In the balance, has “progress” been more a matter of calendar pages than substantial improvements in our lot?

Answers to these questions are debating-points. I don’t think there are definitive answers. Nor should be: let us keep questioning.

In very personal terms, thinking about where “times are special” or unique, I have observed lately that we pass some sort of milestone in life when our thoughts of the past start outnumbering thoughts of the future. Not something that happens on every birthday, but, well, eventually. Again speaking in spiritual context, I am assured of my future home, and trying to realize that my experience is not at all special – but part of the Bible’s “scarlet thread.”

I imply, without being certain, but am more and more persuaded, that humankind’s life is not better, and not worse, considering the sweep of history. All things considered, we generally are in about the same situations as earlier generations, and other civilizations. Medical advances are blessings, but we devise better ways to destroy life (and give those destructive innovations acceptable names). Societies grow more prosperous, but foster crime, misery, divorce, addictions, abuse. Wars were fought to end slavery… but there are more literal slaves on earth now than ever before. Nations are “free,” but totalitarians and corrupt cabals proliferate. We might be kinder to animals, but we are crueler to unborn babies. And so forth.

So far, I say, in the game of life – again, except for the game-changing fact and factor of Jesus – the balance-scales have not changed much through history.

Lately, I have met two people whose fiancees died. It is hard to imagine a crueler time to suffer such a loss (other than… well, you know). Seriously, in the bloom of a relationship, planning for unknown and exciting things… oof. How awful.

My wife had been sick for years, so – as the cliches go – it was merciful and expected when she died. At the end of my mother’s life she was sick and bounced back a couple times. Then she was listed in hospice, and lived another year. Each time I traveled to Florida to say good-bye. I was grateful for her “bonus time,” of course, but I do remember running into one of her neighbors. Sympathetically, she said, “It must be hard to lose your mother…” Almost unconsciously, I replied: “It’s almost impossible.”

But in some situations when we are “left” alone, or to pick up pieces, I think it takes a superhuman strength – or a Holy Spirit enablement, the only way I know – to move on.

The best example I think of is that of the singer Eva Cassidy. She lived in the Washington DC area all her life. She loved to sing and play the guitar. As an amateur she hung around Blues Alley, a little club in DC, and she sang. She met other aspiring musicians and got noticed locally, and then by scouts. Nobody did not love Eva Cassidy, but there was a little bump in the upward road when frustrated record people could not classify her.

Neither could she classify herself. Eva loved all kinds of music, and sang them: folk, country, pop, gospel. She just kept on singing, recording two albums and being recorded, occasionally, by friends on video cams (this was the early 1990s). Then, strange back pains revealed bone cancers, also melanoma spreading quickly. Before people knew it, Eva Cassidy died at the age of 33.

A couple years later one of her songs was played on a London radio program. Yes, an “overnight sensation.” Her few songs have seldom left the charts; her albums have been mastered and re-mastered; she is a major star through recordings in many countries; and American critics have said she had one of the great voices in American music. Her version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” is amazing.

A video is attached here, and I return to my subject. As tough as it is for others to deal with death, the emotional dynamic always has been the same. Unique, wherever and whenever, and whoever. Harder – of course, and I am not joking – when it is ourselves, and we know death approaches.

Superhuman coping, I have said. When death was close, Eva performed at Blues Alley. With no tears, she sang a song she hoped was someone’s favorite, and she sang it beautifully – “What a Wonderful World.”

What a Wonderful World??? Was Eva’s world wonderful? She was in pain, dying, and she knew it. Was she nuts? No… she was blessed. She trusted God, and somehow… Well, hers were probably the only dry eyes in the room. Watch the clip.

Are our lives special? I would say that’s up to us… and to God, for when He sees Jesus in us, He does regard us as special. In the meantime, in this vale [valley] of tears, we remember that “life is real, life is earnest,” as the poet said.

There is a time to cry, a time to weep. It can be hard, but there is a time to smile, a time to laugh.

And, yes, there is a time to sing. And that is special.

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Click: What a Wonderful World

9-23-13

A theme song of cynics – there are many; many cynics and many are their themes – is the famous sentiment written by Shakespeare: “The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones” (Julius Caesar, Act 3, i). But the hopeful among us must see that this is honored in the breach, that the exception proves the rule. We must not merely be convinced that fights for righteousness and honor and creative expression are worth the fight in this difficult life… but that the fight ITSELF, not only the goal, is worthy.

Cynicism is challenged by uncountable examples of service and sacrifice by kind souls, by acts of charity, a word whose original meaning is “love.” Challenged in the over-arching sense by the work of weary toilers in the fields who sometimes are bent but never broken. And in the very personal examples of artists who die without ever knowing the effect their work eventually has on other people. There are stories we all know from history.

We think of van Gogh; of Poe; of the composer Schubert and the novelist John Kennedy Toole… and of Eva Cassidy.

Some serious critics have called Eva the greatest American vocalist. Do you ask, “Who?” Her relatively sparse playlist has swept record charts around the world. Some of the era’s greatest singers and producers have attested to her uniqueness. The acclaim and sales have all come years after she died. Eva was born in Washington DC in 1963. Self- (and dad-) taught on several instruments, she listened to the great performers of several genres she rapidly mastered herself: blues, jazz, gospel, country, pop standards.

Eva played in several clubs in the Washington area. A college town, DC is replete with jazz clubs, music venues, performance clubs. As a student there myself in ancient times, I was privileged to enjoy, in places like the Cellar Door, Emmylou Harris, Linda Ronstadt, and Randy Scruggs before they were nationally famous. Later, Eva Cassidy attracted a local following and made a few CDs, but her fame was fairly restricted to the District. Pros and record execs who heard her music were astonished, but many of them simply did not know in which category to place her. All of them later regretted their short-sightedness. Her voice was angelic (if angels were to sing the blues); her interpretations were miraculously emotional; her guitar style was unique.

When she was 30 she had a malignant tumor removed from her neck. Three years later she was dead, the melanoma having survived within her body, spread to bones and lungs. After her diagnosis (three to five months to live, no hope of survival) she returned once more to her stage of choice, DC’s Blues Alley, and sang “What a Wonderful World.” That choice, as much as hearing her music, confirms what a wonderful person, not merely a musical talent, Eva Cassidy was.

But it was five full years after her death before the world really heard about her, and heard her. A stray CD made its way the BBC Radio studios in London. Airplay on a morning show lit up the proverbial switchboard. Fast-forward this story to Number One on British record charts; five CDs in the Top 150; continuing presence in England and Ireland, especially, but also Germany, Scandinavia, Switzerland, and Australia… and, finally, America; and sales exceeding 10-million CDs.

It is easy to lapse (thusly) into numbers and statistics. But it was Eva Cassidy’s astonishing talent, and her effect on listeners, that is the story. She had a gift for making mundane lyrics special, for discovering spiritual nuances in standard love songs, for making happy tunes blues-y and turning sad ballads hopeful.

That her “success” is posthumous is ironic at least. Yet once we take account of life’s vicissitudes, we should take heart. The good that we may do DOES live on “after our bones are interred.” When we do the Lord’s work, sharing hope and sunshine, we are eager to see the “seeds” we plant take root and bloom. But we don’t always know if, or when, it will happen. Mostly, we cannot know. As servants of the Word, it really is the Holy Spirit’s job to “close the deals,” and we should resist the temptation of pride if we are too concerned with the seeds we plant. We can plant those seeds; we can even cultivate; but only God can make life grow.

In fact there is a legitimate spiritual satisfaction in not knowing these details. When writers, artists, singers, songwriters, poets, and all people graced with God’s creativity set their works out (as it were) like baby Moses in a basket, among the reeds and into unknown waters, we don’t know who will discover them. But, trusting the God whom we serve by serving our fellow men and women, untold numbers of people, and their families after them, may be profoundly touched. Even if one person’s spirit responds, we have done our jobs.

If we, any of us, exercise the talents wherewith we have been graced, if we see our lives as parts of the cultural continuum of civilization, just as we are woven with the scarlet threads of redemption, then some of us might be the next van Goghs, Poes, Schuberts, Tooles, and Eva Cassidys. And be content that the value is in the working and the works, not the accolades of the world. And the rest of us? We can feel blessed that we are witnesses of these great talents.

Remember the Yogi Berra quotation, “It ain’t over till it’s over”? Memo to Yogi: sometimes it only BEGINS when it’s “over.” The theme song of THAT truth is sung by Eva Cassidy.

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One of the only videos of Eva Cassidy singing is an amateur camcorder capture of her and her guitar at Blues Alley. It often brings tears to viewers’ eyes for the unique interpretation and commonly untapped meanings from a pop standard previously considered without spiritual depth. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” was recorded the year of Eva’s death, 1996. I commend this performance to you, and its compelling whisper to your soul: “Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true. … If happy little bluebirds fly above the rainbow, why, oh why, can’t I?” When Eva sang, she made it a spiritually rhetorical question: We can.

Click: Somewhere Over the Rainbow