Monday Morning Music Ministry

6-10-13

I recently visited an exhibition of biblical artifacts that, weeks later, still has me breathless. Properly, the traveling exhibition called “Passages” is an enormous presentation of ancient texts, original documents – letters from the early Church Fathers; even a portion of the Dead Sea Scrolls – illuminated manuscripts, Torah scrolls, first printings of the Bibles of Wycliffe, Tyndale, Gutenberg, Calvin, and more.

One item particularly caught my attention: a letter – not a reproduction, you understand – from Martin Luther to a friend, written the night before his trial before in Worms, Germany. He thought it likely he would be convicted of heresy, surely then to be tortured and executed. So there were elements of a Last Will. But in a slight rehearsal, he wrote in strong words that were spoken the very next day – that before God and his conscience, he could not recant what he had written about the Bible and about corruption in the Church.

I lingered over this letter. It is not only a foundational document of the Protestant Reformation; nor is it merely a notable artifact by a famous figure in history. That humble hand-written letter is one of the great documents of mankind, representing a fulcrum of history. Metaphorically, a stone thrown into the lake of Western civilization, and among its ripples were the liberty of men and women to know Scripture on their own… the invitation to people to learn to read… to be free to think… to challenge people in authority… to worship freely. These were the ripples that also empowered people to assemble freely and form their societies and governments just as they could run their churches.

The simple letter represented a wind that would blow across Europe to the American colonies and back to Europe, ultimately around the world. Religion, philosophy, the arts, science, economics, and government were never the same.

It is seldom that one document can represent so much: sum up, codify, and forecast great shifts in human history.

Another such document is a book, an American book. I thought of it this week, with everything going on in the headlines. It once was a best-seller, and its author one of the major celebrities of the late 1940s and early 1950s. Except for occasional historical reassessments, the book and its author have tended to slip into relative obscurity. And that is why every year or two, I re-visit “Witness” by Whittaker Chambers.

Chambers was a genius, a sensitive product of a troubled family. He drifted for a while in the corridors of intellectual and artistic pursuits, a student at Columbia University and a convert to radicalism. He became a Communist, and a spy; he also translated “Bambi” to great acclaim. He underwent a spiritual journey that led to his break with Communism, and embracing of Christ. Thus began his painful testimony against former friends in the Communist underground who had risen to the highest posts in government.

It was his conflicts — the pain of revealing old friends as enemies of the nation, of the American heritage, of Christianity; as well as his one-time adherence to these heresies – that makes “Witness” compelling reading. Chambers captured the sweep of history and the war of ideas. He precisely defined the choices that thoughtful people of his generation had to make, in eloquent, persuasive words.

… those choices still confront people today. Whittaker Chambers and Alger Hiss are dead. So are Stalin and his Soviet Union. Yes, the American flag still waves.

But the brutal choices of the recent century still confront us: liberty vs tyranny; spirituality vs secularism; values vs relativism; the Bible vs “Das Kapital” by Karl Marx. The choices should be easy. They always have been easy. But the wrong choices almost prevailed in Chambers’ day. And it is clear they are losing today, in America, in Western Civilization.

At a flash-point in Chambers’ conversion, he wrote in “Witness”:

At some point, I sought relief from my distress by trying to pray … As I continued to pray raggedly, prayer ceased to be an awkward and self-conscious act. It became a daily need to which I looked forward … The torrent that swept through me … swept my spirit clear to discern one truth: “Man without mysticism is a monster.” I do not mean, of course, that I denied the usefulness of reason and knowledge. What I grasped was that religion begins at the point where reason and knowledge are powerless and forever fail — the point at which man senses the mystery of his good and evil, his suffering and his destiny as a soul in search of God.

This brings me, here today, full circle, because Martin Luther, the harbinger and prophet of individualism, freedom, and democracy, also once declared that “Reason is the enemy of Faith.” Does this mean we are to reject our learning, distrust our intelligence, deny science? No! But it does remind us that Man cannot serve two masters.

This week, many citizens are face-to-face with a situation that seems like it is from another popular book of the recent past, “1984” (Saturday was the 64th anniversary of its publication, coincidentally). Americans are reaping a harvest of years of social policies that encouraged trust in the state before trust in God. We see the fruits of denying God in schoolhouses and courthouses – a culture and an Establishment that have no anchors, adrift. And a government that has grown to be a power unto itself, seeking us ill instead of serving us first.

Whittaker Chambers, despite his spiritual conversion, was convinced he had joined the losing side in the world’s great, historic battle. Liberty against tyranny; self-reliance against entitlements. He was aware of the forces at work. He knew how the public could be flattered into submission. He was familiar with the ways of infiltration and subversion. Whittaker Chambers wrote to Bill Buckley toward the end of his life a rueful assessment and prediction:

The enemy – he is ourselves. That is why it is idle to talk about preventing the wreck of Western civilization. It is already a wreck from within.

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When society – Western Civilization itself – is threatened and seems doomed, we need to remind ourselves of one sure thing on which we may rely: It is described in Psalm 62:2, “He only is my rock and my salvation; He is my defense; I shall not be greatly moved.” Millions of people have found comfort in this truth through the hymn composed by Augustus M. Toplady in 1775. This impressive video features a performance of “Rock of Ages” by the Antrim Mennonite Choir, thanks to the Sesamonte Channel.

“Witness” and other books by Chambers are in print today, published by Regnery. Click “Passages” for information about the biblical artifacts exhibition.

Click: Rock of Ages

4-22-13

George Beverly Shea, who provided the theme music, in a real way, to the faith of several generations of Christians, died on Tuesday, April 16, 2013.

He lived to the age 104. One hundred and four was the a number that had many people talking when they heard of Bev Shea’s passing. Yet other numbers are more significant. Two hundred million is the approximate number of people before whom he performed his hymns, live, through the years. Sixty-five is how many years ago he joined Billy Graham’s ministry. Seventy is the number of albums he recorded. Ten is the number of Grammy nominations he received.

And “countless” is the number of people who profoundly were touched by Bev Shea’s sincere renditions; and countless the number of souls he ushered into Heaven through his music ministry.

So 104, by itself, is not a significant number. A form of an old joke addresses the chronological milepost: “Just reach 103, and be very careful!” But the 16th-century French essayist Michel de Montaigne wrote: “The value of life is not in the length of days, but in the use we make of them; a man may live long yet very little.”

Bev Shea’s career is a testament to a life of value, lived yielded to the Holy Spirit. His part in the story of the three men who were the core of hundreds of crusades – more than 60 years of friendship with each other, and friendship with Jesus – is remarkable. Those men were Bev Shea, singer; Cliff Barrows, musical director and host; and Billy Graham.

Many great preachers and evangelists have surrounded themselves with music and musicians, knowing that between heartfelt hymns and catchy gospel songs, there was “bait” enough to attract people not yet secure in their faith. Martin Luther had Johannes Walther… and J. S. Bach, 200 years later. Dwight L Moody had Ira Sankey, and Fanny Crosby’s hymns. Billy Sunday had Homer Rodeheaver. Billy Graham himself admitted he never would have had a successful ministry without Bev Shea’s singing. Graham’s own singing talents were charitably described by Bev as sustaining the “malady of no melody.”

Many advertisements and handbills for early crusades read, “BEV SHEA SINGS… Billy Graham will preach.” Indeed, it seemed the cart approached the horse when the unknown fledgling preacher Billy Graham knocked on the door of Bev Shea’s office at WMBI, Moody Bible Radio in Chicago, and asked the famous singer to join him. Bev accepted, reminding more than a few people of Jesus calling a diverse group of Disciples.

For all of Billy Graham’s powerful sermons and tremendous influence, one cannot envision one of his crusades without music, without Bev Shea. The associations are many: the altar-call hymn, “Just As I Am”; the inspiring “This Is My Father’s World”; the sermon-in-song “The Ninety and Nine.” Bev himself was responsible for the tune to “I’d Rather Have Jesus’; and he wrote words and music to “The Wonder of It All.” The music at an early crusade in Los Angeles was responsible for the conversion of cowboy star Stuart Hamblin… whose own gospel songs “Until Then” and “It Is No Secret (What God Can Do)” subsequently became crusade favorites.

One of Bev Shea’s signature songs is regarded as the world’s favorite hymn, after “Amazing Grace” — “How Great Thou Art.” Today, many people think it is a centuries-old standard, but it was only in the 1950s, at a Billy Graham Crusade in New York’s Madison Square Garden, that Bev Shea first sang it in the form we know today. Audience reaction demanded multiple encores on successive days, and an extended booking for the nightly crusades. The hymn had originated as a poem and an unrelated folk tune in Sweden and had traveled to Christian communities in Germany, Russia, the Ukraine, England, Canada, and the United States… until, with Bev Shea’s variations and powerful performance, it caught fire.

The astonishing appeal of Bev Shea is due only in part to his velvet-toned bass-baritone. It is more than his straightforward presentation of classic hymns, which, sung by any other voice in the 21st century, might have seemed anachronistic. It is not even fully explained by his courtly presence, so manifest on platform and in private, whether with a few personal friends or multitudes of fans.

I believe Bev Shea’s appeal, ultimately, was his lack of guile, using a word the Bible warns against. “No shadow of turning.” He simply introduced Christ. Technically speaking, Cliff Barrows introduced Bev Shea, Bev Shea introduced Billy Graham, and Billy Graham introduced Jesus Christ, all yielded to the Holy Spirit’s direction, according to their respective God-given talents.

That explains his life. To explain his death, I cite my friend Jim Watkins, who recalled the gospel song written by Bev Shea, and referred to that lifetime of friendly partnership with the crusade team: “George Beverly Shea, Billy Graham’s featured soloist for 60 years, is now realizing the full extent of his famous song, ‘I’d Rather Have Jesus.’” It was time, and Heaven is sounding sweeter right about now.

Well sung, thou good and faithful servant.

Cliff Barrows, Rick Marschall, Joni Eareckson Tada, George Beverly Shea, Joni’s mom Lindy

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I got to know Bev Shea when working on a proposed PBS documentary on gospel music, for producer Don Stillman. Days spent at the Cove with him and Cliff Barrows, Billy Graham staff, even Joni Eareckson Tada, were precious. At the crusades, Bev Shea sang and seldom spoke. When he did introduce a song, however, he spoke from his heart, as this vid from a performance, probably early 1960s, attests. A portion of his testimony. And his classic song…

Click: I’d Rather Have Jesus

10-28-12

The near coincidence of the presidential election and Reformation Sunday offers an opportunity for us to execute a gut-check. As Christians, as American citizens — to put a precise point on our roles: as Christ-followers, and as patriots and voters — let us see where we stand in the Year of Our Lord 2012.

Approximately 500 years ago, the Catholic monk Martin Luther, who was repelled by corruption in his church and who agitated for reform, was called to account by that church. Among his reforms were a new way to view the pope and the powers of the papacy (he regarded his views not as new, but as old, biblical perspectives). He translated the Bible into the language of the German people; he militated against aspects his day’s prosperity gospel, such as buying “indulgences” from priests to assure places in Heaven.

Luther was more than called to account. He was threatened with excommunication, and in fact was defrocked and kicked out of fellowship. He was chased and hounded. He was threatened with death — as many reformers over the previous century, beginning with Prague’s Jan Hus, and contemporaries of Luther himself, were being imprisoned, tortured, and put to death. He was put on trial for his beliefs.

Brother Luther was told to “recant,” literally to say he no longer believed what he believed; to renounce his positions; to deny what he wrote and preached; that is, to violate his conscience. Already his books were being burned in public places.

In one of the great moments of not only church history but human history, the beleaguered priest faced those who hated him and could easily take his life, but were in no position to judge him – a big difference. He stood, lonely, among the hostile throng, and firmly declared that it was impossible for him to deny what the Bible taught him, or abandon his devotion to the Lord. He could not, and would not, betray his conscience.

“Here I stand,” he thundered. “I can do no other!”

Luther’s astonishing stand was a historical fulcrum. Humankind’s narrative – civilization – never was the same after that scene. It was an illustration of total subjection to God’s authority; yet also was one of the mightiest seeds of individual responsibility and the democratic impulse that has ever sprouted. He used reason to defy earthly authorities, but he believed that godly revelation was superior to man’s reason.

Let us fast-forward to today. A presidential campaign – a “consequential,” generational election – is not the only point of comparison we might make between Reformation Sunday and Election Tuesday. But it can remind us of the excruciating issues that confront us. Sometimes, as when we vote, we can effect changes. Or believe that we can.

My biggest problem with democracy is not that our votes might count for little, or that voting “for the lesser of two evils” still elects evil; or whether people vote “strategically” for or against third-party candidates. The main problem with democracy is the lie that voting fulfills our civic responsibilities. That view is not just wrong; it is a cancer that corrodes, an attitude that harms more than any manner of helping.

The lie of democracy persuades us that right and wrong can be decided by majority vote. That we can think of surrendering our concerns when we lose at the ballot boxes or courts. That we “gave it our all” on some issue or other, and that we should be satisfied with the results of votes.

Voting is the least we should do as citizens. If there are no issues or candidates we care about, we should not vote, but otherwise the vote is but one of a thousand tools to press one’s case. Debates, discussions, persuasion, letters, protests, town halls, writing, calling, volunteering, even civil disobedience, are among other things.

I address this to all of us, and without regard to parties or places on the spectrum. Think of Luther when the chips were down; think of volunteers at Valley Forge who sacrificed their lives, fortune, and sacred honor for a future they could not see except in the most hopeful of their dreams. Think of pioneers and soldiers and missionaries who all said, in their own ways, “Here I stand,” not just for themselves, their faith, or even themselves; but for you and me.

To address some issues: If you believe abortion is murder, why is your conviction dissipated when a few men in robes declare it to be a “choice,” not the death of an innocent? If you think the government is committing war crimes, or practicing torture, why does your passion die when a new government practices the same old acts? If you think certain “life choices” and lifestyles are sinful, why do you not stand up for your own beliefs? – to avoid confrontation, to not lose friends, to prevent people from thinking you are… what? A Christian? If that is the reason, that is something they should already know. And expect that you will act a certain way.

Luther knew that his judges were nothing, compared to the judgment of the Lord God Almighty. Some day – you know this! – God will ask us where we stood on certain issues. Maybe they were related to elections, maybe just economic problems or social justice, but always, ultimately, spiritual. Almost everything is.

Instead of “Here I stand,” will we say, “I stood… over there, where nobody could notice me”? How do you think God will like hearing things like “I went along to get along,” or “Everyone changed their opinions” on this or that and “what was I supposed to do?” We don’t let our children act like that; why should God give us a pass? If you are tempted to think, “Well, Luther was an important guy; I’m just me,” you should remember to look at the 11th chapter of Hebrews. A “great cloud of witnesses” is always watching what we do.

On election day, and every day, we must stand with God’s clear word, and our clear consciences, and act. We can do no other. God help us.

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A dramatic clip from 1953’s acclaimed film “Martin Luther,” the moment Dr. Luther makes his defense and confession before accusers, defenders, and enemies at the Diet of Worms. The actor portraying Luther is Niall MacGinnis.

Click: Here I Stand