The competition weekends I have often judged were always fun and uplifting.  It is wonderful to hear the future stars of the concert stage make two full days of beautiful music.  Which does not mean it was an easy weekend.  90% of the performances we heard were mechanically and technically perfect.  Memory lapses were rare and finger slips even rarer.  So how do you choose a winner?

Actually, at the end of each session when our panel of three compared notes, we had all picked out the same three or four that distinguished themselves above the others:  pianists who played with feeling; who made the melody sound like someone singing; who understood how to shape phrases, not just separate them; who had the musical ear and technical ability to voice their chords; students who played the non-melody hand so far in the background it was as if it were in another room; who knew the difference between a Mozart forte and a Beethoven forte; who understood that rubato meant a proportionate time-stretching like the lettering on an inflated balloon, not just a rush followed by a drag.  In short, the winners were those who played not only with perfect mechanics, but with artistry as well—they put their hearts into it.

God’s people seem to have had a problem with that for a long time.  The prophets were constantly reminding them that while God expected absolute obedience, form worship was not acceptable.  If perfect mechanics were all that mattered, he could have created a world full of robots to fill the bill.  I hate, I despise your feasts and I will take no delight in your solemn assemblies, God told Israel.  Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and your meal offerings, I will not accept them; neither will I regard the peace offerings of your fat beasts, Amos 5:21,22.  Why?  Because it was a mechanical following of ritual. All during their “worship” they were saying, When will the new moon be gone that we may sell grain, and the Sabbath that we may set forth wheat, making the ephah small and the shekel great, dealing falsely with the balances of deceit; that we may buy the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of shoes, and sell the refuse of the wheat, 8:5,6.  Their religion did not affect their hearts and certainly not their everyday lives.

Jesus dealt with their descendants, not only by blood, but in attitude.  Were the Pharisees right to require exact obedience to the Law?  Jesus said they were:  The scribes and Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat.  All things whatsoever they bid you, these things do, Matt 23:2,3.  He even praised what we might consider petty exactitude:  you tithe mint, anise, and cumin…these things you ought to have done…Matt 23:23.  But like their ancestors, their heart was not in it.  Hear Jesus’ whole indictment:  Woe to you scribes, Pharisees, hypocrites, for you tithe mint, anise, and cumin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, justice, mercy, and faith; but these things you ought to have done, and not left the other undone.

Correct mechanics are important.  A lot of folks in the Bible learned that the hard way.  But our hearts are more important, according to Jesus.  It is easier to just go down a list and do what we are told than it is to monitor our hearts and keep them in line—but God has never had much truck with laziness either.  I didn’t give out any prizes for mechanical playing those during those competition weekends.  What makes us think God will give them out for mechanical worship?
 
“With what shall I come before the Lord and bow down before the exalted God?  Shall I come with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?  Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, and ten thousand rivers of oil?  Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgressions, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?  He has showed you, O man, what is good.  And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justly, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” Micah 6:6-8
 
Dene Ward

I taught piano lessons (and later added voice lessons) for over 35 years.  By the time I had to quit due to my eye problems, I had a full studio with a two year waiting list.  My students participated in three competitions a year, and no less than four joint recitals, depending upon their ages and their pieces.  At the end of the year, we had what I billed as "the Spring Program," because most people considered recitals "boring" and our programs were anything but.  We put on a show and we had fun.  And afterward I handed out sometimes as many as 20 awards, including some state competition trophies.  Yes, it was a very big deal in our lives.
            "Our lives" because my boys were part of it.  I taught them both.  Lucas went on to focus on voice and theory, while Nathan stayed with the piano.  It's always satisfying to see your children follow in your footsteps.  One day Nathan and I sat down and sightread duets for a half hour or so.  I don't know about him, but I had a blast.  He had grown and learned enough that we could share on an equal footing, a truly exhilarating experience.
            And now, thanks to seeing Daddy play at home, my grandson Silas has started piano lessons.  Last spring I went to his first recital.  He had wowed me all morning, playing a hands-moving-together piece at a difficulty that no 6 year old student of mine had ever reached—with only 8 months of piano under his belt.  We not only practiced his piece, but his bow as well. (Any of my old students reading this will understand.)  And so we all went to the auditorium and sat four rows from the front while he walked up to the grand piano and played his piece.  Perfectly.  With the classiest bow of the evening.  Just last week he did the same thing, this year playing three pieces—perfectly with an almost professional bow.
            I couldn't stop smiling.  And I also couldn't stop the tears from welling in my eyes.  Somehow I managed to get them under control before he saw them, and I gave him a huge hug.  "I am very proud," I said.  "You have made me very happy."
            As proud and happy as I was that day, there are a few other things that would make me even happier.  I doubt I even have to list them.  You know exactly what I am talking about because you wish them for your children and grandchildren too.
            I still help Silas with his piano practice.  With a new piece I often play the left hand while he plays the right, and then we swap places.  By then he can manage to put both hands together himself.  I still help with the theory homework, clapping out rhythms and asking questions that lead him to the right answers.
            But more often than that, we talk about Bible characters, narratives and principles.  We talk about God.  We pray together and sing together.  We memorize verses and recite them together.  Doesn't he get this from his parents?  Of course he does, but the more he gets from more different people—especially people who mean something to him—the more it will mean to him, and the better it will stick.  Just like his Grandma and Daddy playing the piano.
            That first recital was wonderful.  But a first public prayer, a first sermon, and of course, the first commitment--when the time is right--will be even better.
 
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments. (Ps 103:17-18)
 

A long time ago my piano teacher organized her students into something called a junior music club, and one year I served as president.  Because we students were members of this club, we were eligible to participate in several special events and recitals, including something called “the Festival” where our performances were rated by a judge, who also gave helpful comments and encouragement.
            Twenty years later I joined a local chapter of the Florida Federation of Music Clubs and eventually attended one of their State Conventions.  As I watched, listened and learned, all the pieces began to click into place.
            FFMC is a group of “senior clubs.”  Unlike a professional organization, parents of students and music lovers in the community are allowed to join, along with the independent music teachers, which greatly increases your volunteer pool as you try to spread the love and appreciation of music and support music education in your communities. 
            Each teacher in the local senior group was supposed to organize her students into a junior club.  My teacher, whom I later discovered had been a State President of FFMC, did exactly that.  Here is the genius of that plan—you are growing your own replacements, teaching them what the organization is about, making them as useful as possible in whatever capacity they can manage at their various ages. 
            Unfortunately, few teachers did anything more than put their students’ names on a roster so they could take advantage of the privileges of membership.  Responsibility was never taught. And worse, the senior division, all the way to state level, did not use their younger members, even though they held “state elections.”  My son Nathan, who was also my student, was elected state president of the junior division in his senior year of high school, but I had to suggest, recommend, and finally push for him and his fellow officers to be used as real members.  No one had ever thought of that, which is probably why I did not at first recognize FFMC years later.  No one had taught me the ropes.  As a student I was a member in name only.
            The same thing happens in the church.  We look at our young people and call them “the future of the church,” and then sit back and assume that someday in that future they will “grow up in all things unto him” (Eph 4:15). 
            Here is the problem:  We treat baptism like flea dip for our dogs.  We get our children wet and say, "Whew!  Got rid of all those sins, now they're safe."  But Romans tells us that when we are baptized, we are raised to walk a new life.  Something has changed.  Do they know that?  Can young children even articulate what needs to change about themselves?
            Jesus says you don’t make a commitment to Him until you count the cost.  Have we helped them count the cost of discipleship to the Lord?  Are they even able to?
            Colossians tells us that we are raised from baptism to "walk with him."  "Walk" means a lifetime not a moment.  Are they old enough to even comprehend that sort of commitment?
            1 Corinthians 12 says baptism makes them “members of the body” (I Cor 12:13).  If they aren’t ready to be working members, committed servants who put others before themselves, then they aren’t ready to be baptized.
If all we teach them is that they must be baptized or they can't go to Heaven, all we have done is terrorize them, and shame on us.  It is simple to indoctrinate a child well before they are able to count the cost of changing their lives, make a lifetime commitment and actually begin serving.  The New Testament knows nothing of junior members in the church; babes, yes, but even babes participate in on-the-job training.  Either they are members or they aren't according to Corinthians.  Consider the following.
            A working member does more than read the Scripture and pass the plates.  For one thing, what about the young ladies?  These young people may not have the deep knowledge and wisdom to participate in every aspect of the work, but they should all be able to serve the Lord’s body.  Teach them how and expect it of them.  Or else do not baptize them.
            Take them visiting with you—the sick, the lonely widows, even the bereaved.  If you don’t think your child can handle that, then think again about whether he was really mature enough to commit.  Have them help clean the houses and do the yard work for those who no longer can.  Keith had a stroke one year in the middle of leaf season.  Half a dozen young high school men came to our home—a thirty mile drive one way—and raked all morning.  Another group helped unpack when my mother moved, and another helped clean.  They were thrilled to help, returning to me again and again with, “What should I do now?”  These young people are obviously ready to serve.
            Teach them to take responsibility for their own Bible study.  That’s what a committed disciple does.  Expect them to not only do their class lessons without being told, but to develop personal study habits.  If you always have to remind them, are they really as devoted to the Lord as their baptism should have shown them to be?  If you are making excuses, especially in regard to their age, then once again you may be admitting that all you did was scare your child to death, not make them dedicated disciples.
            Take them to the extra Bible studies with you.  I do run a Tuesday morning Bible class for the women, but I also hold one on the third Sunday afternoon of the month for those who have secular jobs or other daytime commitments—like high school and college.  I have had teenagers as young as sixteen take part.  They do their lessons and comment almost as freely as the older women. 
            Turning your baptized offspring into working members will also do this for you—if I expect to teach my child what it means to be a member of the Lord’s body, I need to be showing them how myself.  Nothing made me a better Christian than having that red, wrinkled, squirming infant placed in my arms.  The same thing should happen when your child becomes a babe in Christ. 
            And speaking of babies, do you know why we have adult infants in the church?  Because we scared the innocent to death instead of teaching them early enough about conversion, service, and commitment.  There may be no better way to ensure the demise of the body of Christ than turning it over to the coddled who were taught that baptism was all about escaping Hell.
            Don’t call your young people by that unscriptural term, “the future of the church.”  Either they are members of the body or they are not.  Prepare them.  As the old saying goes, the future is now.
 
For in one Spirit were we all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, whether bond or free; and were all made to drink of one Spirit. 1Cor 12:13

And all that believed were together, and had all things common; and they sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all, according as any man had need. And day by day, continuing steadfastly with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread at home, they took their food with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to them day by day those that were saved. Acts 2:44-47
 
Dene Ward

Many of us know Matt Bassford from the hymns he has written for us to sing and has explained on his blog.  That he understands both music and poetry is obvious.  "Exalted," which we sing fairly often, is one of my favorites of his, and never fails to send chills down my spine and make my hair stand on end.  Now he has done us all a monumental service by paraphrasing the entire Psalter and choosing tunes to sing them with.  As he says in his introduction we are commanded to sing psalms and we seldom if ever do.
            Speaking of that introduction, it should be preached from every pulpit in the country.  Our culture has taught us that the songs we sing in worship should all be songs of praise or thanksgiving.  Look through the inspired songbook (Psalms) and you will find out that we are leaving out the majority of things we should be singing about.  My own study of the Psalms several years ago left me shocked to discover that only 30% of the psalms were praise psalms.  The largest majority were psalms of lament.  Even when we do use a psalm, we "cherrypick" as Matt calls it, the cheerful parts and leave the rest untouched.  I remember a song leader introducing a new song and boasting, "It's straight from the Bible.  No one should complain."  But that song took one verse of a much longer psalm, repeated that verse almost endlessly, and completely ignored the rest.  Another quote from Matt's introduction:  "Though this neglect of the more challenging psalms may make our assemblies less demanding, it leaves us woefully unprepared to face the sorrows of life under the sun."
            Matt has given us beautifully worded paraphrases for each psalm.  For the longer psalms, he divides them into two, three, or more separate psalms (such as Psalm 119).  Then he suggests a tune to sing it by, usually a well-known standard hymn.  I have tried several of them and they always work out, unlike some of the modern praise songs that throw six words on one or two notes and just expect you to fit them in somehow.  He also includes other ways to change the tune if it is one you don't know, with his metrical descriptions.  As long as you find a tune with the same metrical description (many hymnals have them now), it will fit.  From my own experience with these psalms, practice at home first.  If the tune is one you barely know, find it in the hymnal and sing it a few times first to cement the tune in your mind.  Then try it with Matt's words.  And don't do too many at once.  I found myself suddenly switching to another tune right in the middle of the fourth one.  But I could handle three in a row with little trouble.
            Several churches have begun studying the Psalms with the aid of this book.  After it has been thoroughly dissected, they then sing the psalm with the suggested tune, or one they have found that matches the meter and which their group is more familiar with.  Matt has done us a great service.  This is truly a labor of love for his brethren, and one of devotion to the God he serves.  Well done, Matt.
            Worshiping with the Psalms comes from Truth Publications.

Dene Ward

There is no doubt historically that the first century church used only vocal music.
            “All the music employed in their early services was vocal,” Frank Landon Humphreys, Evolution of Church Music.
            “[Early church music was] purely vocal,” Dr Frederic Louis Ritter, Director, School of Music, Vassar.
         “While pagan melodies were always sung to instrumental accompaniment, the church chant was exclusively vocal.  Clement says, ‘Only one instrument do we use, the word of peace…’ Chrysostom: ‘Our tongues are the strings of the lyre, with a different tone, indeed, but with a more accordant piety.’  Ambrose expresses his scorn for those who would play the lyre and psaltery instead of singing hymns and psalms…Augustine adjures believers not to turn their hearts to theatrical instruments.  The[se] religious guides of the early Christians felt that there would be an incongruity, and even profanity, in the use of…instrumental sound in their…spiritual worship…the pure vocal utterance was the more proper expression of their faith.”  Edward Dickinson, Professor of Music History, Conservatory of Music, Oberlin, Music in the History of the Western Church.
            “[There was a time] when organs were very seldom found outside the Church of England.  The Methodists and Baptists rarely had them, and by the Presbyterians they were strongly opposed…even in the Church of England itself, organs did not obtain admission without much controversy,” John Spencer Curwin, Royal Academy of Music.
            From A History of Western Music by Donald Jay Grout:  Early Christian music was monophonic, meaning it had no harmony or counterpoint—everyone sang the same tune.
            Judaism had a huge influence on the singing in the early church.  Psalms were sung almost exclusively in the beginning, in several different ways.  Sometimes they sang in alternation between a soloist and the congregation.  This was called RESPONSORIAL PSALMODY.  Sometimes two parts of verses or alternate verses were sung by two groups.  This was called ANTIIPHONAL PSALMODY.  At still other times a SOLOIST sang a certain passage using melodic formulas which could be altered to suit the cadence of the text.  Because he was doing it ad lib, it was simply impossible for anyone else to sing with him.
            Early hymns were probably sung to folk tunes the people knew, and were eventually put into a book.  The oldest piece of church music found was a hymn of praise.  We have only the last few lines and it was so mutilated it could not be completely reconstructed.  It was found in Oxyrhynchos, Egypt and dated from the end of the third century (200’s).  It is known as the Oxyrhynchos fragment. 
            The emphasis of music in the early church was on ecstasy (Spirit-filled revelation) and individual liberty, 1 Cor 14:26.  It can be established absolutely that the early church sang without instrumental accompaniment.
           A capella does not mean unaccompanied music.  A capella is Latin for “in the style of the church.”  Everyone simply understood that sacred music in the church was to be sung without accompaniment because it always had been.
          When instrumental music was first introduced in the Catholic Church, it was fought vehemently, and only fully accepted several hundred years later, around the 11th century.  Even in the nineteenth century, some conservative denominations avoided it, calling it “Romanist,” as in "Roman Catholic.”
            The Greek Orthodox Church divided from the Roman Catholic Church in the 11th century.  (Today it consists of 13 branches, including the Russian Orthodox, Bulgarian Orthodox, Slavic Orthodox, etc.)  These native Greek speakers had two issues with the Romans, the use of the word baptizo and the word psallo.  They understood the original language and therefore rejected the introduction of sprinkling as baptism, and instrumental music in the singing of hymns.  They knew that the one word in the first century meant “immerse” and the other meant “sing” and nothing else.  To this day, the Orthodox Church still sings a cappella.
           
 A Personal Note
 
            Some of you might be surprised if I said, “Yes!  The early church had music.”  “They sang without music,” is a common error, and one of my pet peeves.  If you sing without music, you are a mighty poor singer!  Singing is music. 
            As someone who has been there, in college you study two types of music—instrumental or vocal.  Under the vocal division, you can sing with accompaniment or without--a capella.  So much for the piano being merely an incidental—it totally changes the type of music. 
            As a piano/vocal major, one of my music education professors reminded me not to be tempted to play the piano every time the children sang.  “They will never learn to carry a tune in a bucket,” she said, speaking of the crutch the piano would be to their ear development.  In fact, a capella choirs are considered the most elite because their singers must have a good ear to stay on pitch.  Any voice students I have had who were raised in the church singing a capella always had better aural capability than their friends in the denominations.  And I have always considered it a little presumptuous to think that a manmade instrument can improve on the one God made.
 
Dene Ward

The posts today and tomorrow will be a little different.  As a musician I am sometimes asked about our music practices in the church.  I hope these two posts will give you the information you need to answer similar questions.
 
I.  Characteristics of Language
           
            The first thing we need to understand is that words in any language change over the years.  What may have one meaning now, meant something else entirely a couple hundred years ago.
            Take the word “silly.”  We know it means “absurd, foolish or stupid.”  Did you know that it originally meant “happy and blessed?”  How about “lewd?”  It now means “sexually unchaste;” originally it meant “a common person as opposed to clergy.”  “Idiot” now has the specific meaning of “someone whose mental age does not exceed three,” and a colloquial meaning of “a foolish or stupid person.”  Originally it meant “someone in private station as opposed to someone holding public office.”  So five hundred years ago, most of us could have been described as silly, lewd idiots and we would not have taken offense!
            Be careful of root words too.  Do you know what the root word for “nice” is?  The Latin nescius.  Nescius means “ignorant!”  Think about that the next time someone tells you how nice you look on Sunday morning.  None of these English words’ early definitions have much of anything to do with the way they are used nowadays, so when you look up the definition of a Greek or Hebrew word you must be careful to find the definition for the time period of the original writing.  (The information for these two paragraphs come from Exegetical Fallacies by D. A. Carson.)
            “In the age of Alexander the Great…the Greek language underwent [a huge] change…a literary prose language was formed which was founded on the Attic dialect, yet differed from it by adopting a common Greek element…admitting numerous provincialisms.  A popular spoken language arose in which the previously distinct dialects spoken by the various Greek tribes were blended, with a predominance of the Macedonic variety.”  Dr George Benedict Winer, Grammar of the Greek Testament.
            “The usage of the classic Greek authors varies so much according to the time, place, subject, etc.”  Alexander Buttman, Grammar of the New Testament Greek.
            “…Gradual changes in the vocabulary were going on steadily through the whole period which [led up to the first century].  That force of spoken language which is always weakening old words and bringing in new expressions to be toned down in their turn, was acting powerfully in Greek as it does now in English.”  James Moulton, An Introduction to the Study of New Testament Greek.
            “The historical investigation of the language of the New Testament…has shown [it] to be…a specimen of the colloquial form of late Greek, and of the popular colloquial language in particular.”  Dr Adolph Deissman, New Light on the New Testament.
            “By far the most important changes…are those which refer to new or modified meanings given to already existing and current Greek words, whether in the old Classic or in the new Postclassical Greek.  It is these changes which especially concern us in the study of the New Testament.” Charles Louis Loos, Professor Emeritus of Greek Language and Literature, Christian Quarterly Review.
            Accordingly, psallo went through the following changes in meanings as the years progressed:
 
            To pull out one’s hair
            To pull the string of a bow
            To twitch a carpenter’s line
            To play a musical instrument
            To sing (any type of song)
            To sing praises
 
Psalmos went through these changes:
 
            Music of a harp
            A song accompanied by a musical instrument
            A song, sacred or secular, accompanied or a capella
            A hymn of praise
 
            I found the following definitions for psallo and its derivative psalmos as they were used in the first century AD:
 
Robinson—in later usage, a song of praise to God.
Pickering—a psalm, an ode, a hymn
Groves—a psalm or hymn
Donnegan—by later writers, a hymn or ode
Parkhurst—to sing, to sing praises or songs to God
Dunbar—to sing, or celebrate with hymns
Greenfield—to sing, to sing in honor or praise of, to celebrate in song; a sacred song
Cantopolous—to sing or celebrate
Maltby—to praise
Hamilton—to sing; a song or hymn
Thayer—to sing; to celebrate the praises of God in song; a pious song
Sophocles (Greek playwright)—to chant or sing religious hymns
Green—in the New Testament to sing; in the New Testament, a sacred song
 
            By the first century it is obvious that the word psallo had left behind any meaning having to do with strings and simply meant “to sing.”  Psalmos had become far more specific than its origins and was used to refer only to sacred unaccompanied songs.
            Tomorrow we will continue this study.
 
Dene Ward

Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.

I'm looking at myself, reflections of my mind,
It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind,
So gently swaying thru the fairy-land of love,
If you'll just come with me and see the beauty of

Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon.

Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.
"The Afternoon:  Forever Afternoon" (also known as "Tuesday Afternoon")
 
            Many years ago, the Moody Blues was one of our favorite bands.  When the televised version of the Red Rock concert came on, we watched every minute of it and then bought the cassette.  (That's how we listened to recordings in those "olden" days.)  Keith had begun losing his hearing when he was in the service and was already in hearing aids at 27, so "listening" to music was difficult.  He asked me to please get him the lyrics and I did—every lyric for every song on the recording.
            As pleased as punch, he sat down and read through them.  He grew quieter and quieter as he read.  Finally he said, "I wish I did not have these lyrics.  They mean absolutely nothing, and now I don't like the music nearly as much."
            One set of those lyrics, and one of the best as I recall, opens this post.  If you haven't yet, scroll up and read them.  If you can tell me what it means, you are better than I.  Basically it's a bunch of pretentious nonsense, cotton candy fluff masquerading as "deep" thought. 
            That made me think and I began to experiment with our hymns.  Read them—don't sing them—as poetry and see what they actually say.  If necessary to keep the tune from cropping up in your mind, read them aloud.  Suddenly the hymn will become either one of your favorites or one you can easily do without.  The tune and the rhythm won't matter.
            New or old really has nothing to do with it.  Granted, the older hymns have already had a couple hundred years of culling out and as a result they may have the advantage here.  But you will still find one or two that make you feel like all you have been singing all these years is "Doo-wah-diddy-diddy-dum-diddy-doo" as far as their spiritual value goes. 
          Another caveat:  save the chorus for last, don't read it over and over.  That waters down the punch of the verses.  That does not mean you should never sing the refrain more than once.  Several of the Psalms have refrains in them, Psalm 80 for instance, which repeats its refrain three times.  Obviously the Holy Spirit meant them to be read more than once—they repeat the theme.  But for this test, you need to avoid the repetition and see what's left.  Sometimes you discover that you are doing a whole lot of singing for practically nothing of worth. 
          So why do this test?  Because suddenly you will understand that it isn't the spirituality of the hymn you like, it's the rhythm or the melody or the harmony, something that did not come along until a couple of millennia after the Psalms, by the way, and early on in only rudimentary form.  And then, I hope, you will remember what our singing is supposed to be about.  "Teaching and admonishing," (Col 3:16); edifying (1 Cor 14:15-26); "a sacrifice of praise" (Heb 13:15).  If the song does not do one or more of those things, does it really need to be sung?
 
Psalm 34  A Psalm of David:  Come O children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord, Psa 34:11.
 
Dene Ward
 

I imagine we could all sit around telling stories for hours about the misheard lyrics our children sang before they learned to read along in the songbook.  I will never forget the day Lucas asked his song-leading grandfather (Papa) to sing, "He whispers the peas to me."  Or the day I was standing in the kitchen and heard his sweet little voice singing, "When the roll is called under the water."  His little brother had his own versions of the standard hymns.  One day as we were wandering through the produce department at the grocery store he said, "Mom, sing the song about the sandals."  "The sandals?" I asked, running through familiar hymns in my head as quickly as I could.  "Yes," he said, "all other ground is sinking sandals."
            All of those are favorite stories, but I was reminded recently of one I like even better.  As usual, I was working on something while my two toddlers were playing, and just as usual, they were singing.  Lucas, at 3, could carry a tune and had a larger range than most toddlers his age, a direct product, I think, of growing up hearing a capella music several times a week.  He had been humming along and suddenly I heard, "No tears, no tears up there.  Sorrow and planes, we'll all have fun."
            I was still blinking my eyes in surprise when he asked, "Mommy, what are sorrow and tears?  They must be bad guys, right?  Because they don't get to go to Heaven."  That little guy could teach us all a lesson or two.
            First, he didn't just sing—he thought about what he was singing.  Maybe he didn't get the words right, but he got what he understood.  He knew he was singing about Heaven so "We'll all have fun," made perfect sense to him.  And evidently, he had enjoyed that plane ride he had been on a couple of months earlier, so planes in Heaven made sense too.
            Second, when there was something he didn't understand, like "sorrow" and "tears," he figured something out about them with just a little logic.  They won't be in Heaven so they must be bad, and when you are a three year old boy who loves Superman, "bad" means "bad guys."  Then he asked someone else to make sure he was right.
            And third, he was thinking about what he sang long after the worship had ended. 
            Surely, I don't have to spell out the lessons in this one.  Do you know what you are singing, which is the title of this little series I have written for several years now?  (You can find them all in the archives under Music.)  Do you think about the songs you have sung to worship God?  Do you keep on singing them, even after you leave the meetinghouse, and perhaps sing them with even more understanding?
            If a three year old can, surely we can too.
 
Sing praises to God, sing praises: Sing praises unto our King, sing praises. For God is the King of all the earth: Sing ye praises with understanding (Ps 47:6-7).
 
Dene Ward

I started taking piano lessons when I was about seven years old.  It was not “formal” training in a studio, but just a few lessons from a friend of my mother’s to see if I was interested.  I still remember the first lesson, the first book I had, and the first tune in it.  “C-D-E made a boat; round and round the pond he’d float.”
            A few months later this friend told my parents I needed a “real” teacher.  Frankly, I think she was just fine as a teacher.  I learned the keys, the notes, and how to count in a few short weeks, but she insisted so off we went. 
            My next teacher had recitals.  I still remember that first recital too, and I can still play my first recital piece:  “Arab Horsemen” by Hazel Cobb.  Those horsemen were a long way from the guy named “CDE” and his boat.  Instead of one hand playing three notes, I had both hands running over six octaves on the piano, and a whole page played with my arms crossed!
            As I sat in the student row waiting my turn to play I saw other students wringing their hands or wiping sweat off their palms onto their skirts or pants.  What was the problem, I wondered?  It never dawned on me that they were nervous about playing in front of people.  I wasn’t nervous.  I knew my piece and could play it flawlessly.  What was the big deal?
            A few years later we had moved and the new teacher entered me in a talent competition in the County Fair.  Once again I was mystified by the nervous entrants around me.  I had a great piece and knew it inside and out.  I had spent three hours one particular day analyzing every note, every nuance of phrase, and every dynamic marking.  I got up and played it, and won a blue ribbon. 
            The next year I entered another competition.  This time the piece was more difficult.  It was written only a year or two before by Aaron Copland, a contemporary American composer.  It did not make much sense to my classically oriented ear.  Going from this note to the next seemed totally at random to me and I had a difficult time memorizing it.  But the rules for that category said I had to play it.  
            For the first time in my life I was not comfortable waiting my turn.  Then when I got up to play, it happened--I went totally blank.  I could not even start the piece.  The judges were kind.  They let me look at the first line.  Then I walked back to the piano and my daily practice automatically kicked in.  I played it perfectly, and aced the Beethoven rondo that followed.  In fact, Beethoven felt like an old friend at that point.
            Ever since that day I have experienced what everyone else does—performance anxiety.  I played a solo professional recital once and was sick to my stomach about five minutes before I walked on.  That one time when I forgot what to play has never left me.  From then on I knew I was as mortal as anyone and I always wondered when it would happen again.  Actually it did happen once in the middle of my senior recital, a requirement for a degree in music education.  I was playing a sonata and made up about four bars on the second page of the first movement before Haydn’s music found its way back into my hands.  Good thing you get points for covering up a slip when you perform.  I still got my A.
            Can you imagine how those apostles felt when Jesus, the one they had always counted on to have the right answer at the right time suddenly left them?  He knew what would happen and gave them this promise:  And when they bring you to trial and deliver you up, be not anxious beforehand what you are to say but say whatever is given you to say, for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit, Mark 13:11.  Can you imagine a more comforting promise?  I suppose that is why I have always had difficulties with those who claim that Paul misspoke in Acts 23:3, and that he had to apologize.  Don’t they believe that God kept His promise to these brave men?  Try reading what Paul said with the same tone Elijah must surely have had when he spoke to the prophets of Baal in 1 Kings 18.  It wouldn’t be the first time that God used sarcasm through the voice of a man.  Either that or He broke His promise to Paul; you can’t have it both ways.
            Wouldn’t it be great to have that promise today?  But wait a minute--in a way we do.  Those men did not have the written word.  Paul himself promised that one day the gifts that allowed one to prophesy a part and another to prophesy another part would be done away because the entire revelation would be “perfect,” complete in all details (1 Cor 13:8-12.  That is what we have—the whole shebang.
            So why do we experience performance anxiety when someone asks a question, or when it comes time to speak up in the face of false teaching?  Is it because we are just a little anxious about choosing exactly the right way to say it, or is it because we didn’t prepare ourselves with daily practice, analyzing and memorizing?  One is understandable, the other is inexcusable.  We may not have all the answers on the tips of our tongues as they did, but we have the source of those answers if we will just take the time to look.  “I don’t know, but I can find out,” may be a better testimony than acting like we do know it all.  It tells our friends, if an ordinary guy like him can find it, so can I.
            Those 13 men never knew when they would be called upon to speak up for God.  We don’t either.  Start practicing what to say; start considering all the possibilities. God has given you what you need, but it’s up to you to make use of it.
 
I will hope continually and praise you yet more and more.  My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day for their number is past my knowledge.  With the mighty deeds of the Lord God I will come; I will remind them of your righteousness, yours alone.  Psalm 71:14-16.
 
Dene Ward
           
 

I always had themed recitals for my students, including skits and ensemble numbers.  I seldom had to hear parents complaining about boring recitals. 
One year we had one called "Mystery!"  All of the songs and piano pieces had titles like "Spooky Footsteps," "Descent into the Crypt," "Through the Night Mist," and "Dixieland Detectives."  All the students came dressed as a famous detective from TV or fiction.  We had Sherlock Holmes, Dr Kay Scarpetta, Magnum PI, Columbo, and Miss Scarlet from the Clue game, among many others.
            Nathan was home from college that week and he and I worked up a special duet.  First, I put him in his college chorus tuxedo and introduced him as the detective whose theme he and I would be performing—Peter Gunn.  If you don't know the name, Peter Gunn was the first detective created for television rather than being adapted from some other media.  The show starred Craig Stevens and Lola Albright, who played his girlfriend Edie Hart.  It debuted on September 22, 1958 and ran for three seasons.  Even if you have never seen the show (I never saw one until I was grown and saw it on the oldies channel), I bet you have heard the music.  Talk about modern and catchy—this one has it all.  Blue notes, syncopation, quarter note triplets against a steady eighth note beat.  You can't help but move something when you hear it—a toe, a knee, a shoulder or two.  It won an Emmy and two Grammys for Henry Mancini and was performed and recorded by many others.  Nathan and I have played it in a couple of places since then, and it is always an audience pleaser.
            Audience pleasers.  That's a good phrase when you are talking about a concert performance.  That's what a concert is for—pleasing the audience.  That is NOT what worship is about.  Worship is about pleasing God.  I happened to think about that when a song leader I know, a trained musician, by the way, who does an outstanding job of leading, told me that he was criticized for leading "boring songs."
            First of all, who exactly is being bored?  If it's the audience, then maybe they should remember what they are doing—worshipping God not pleasing themselves.  That ought to take care of the "boring" problem right there.
            Second, why is it "boring?"  If it's because they don't have enough Bible knowledge to recognize Biblical references, nor enough depth to their thinking to understand the allusions and feel the goosebumps at some of the most beautiful poetry ever written, then they should be ashamed of themselves.  The Bible may be easy to understand, but it is not a comic book.  Nor is it a See-Jane-Run first grade primer.  The older I get, the more I love the songs that speak the Word of God in lyrics that truly make me think and keep me thinking long after the last chord has rung in the rafters. 
            Neither the song leader, the prayer leader, nor the preacher should have to try so hard to keep our attention if our worship is sincere.  If the only things that keep me interested in either the singing or the sermons and classes is laughter-inducing stories, toe-tapping rhythm, and shoulder-lifting blue notes, I may as well roll in a piano and have Nathan come with me and play a rousing rendition of "Peter Gunn."  I promise you'll like it and won't be bored.  Whether or not you get anything spiritual from it, whether or not you hear any teaching and admonishing, whether or not God is pleased, is another matter altogether.
 
But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.  (Heb 5:14).
 
Dene Ward