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