I suspect every church musician has had experiences—some thrilling, others different, and still others emotionally draining—but all unexpected. When I began my journey, little did I know:
- That I would be leading churches into often new and uncharted territory—having to justify musical choices all along the way.
- That I would be called upon, not only to minister through music but also as a spiritual guide and pastoral support figure: rushing to the ER, after receiving a midnight call, to assist with ministering to the family of a beloved soloist, tragically killed in a motor vehicle accident. I would also be called upon to provide comfort to the family of a children’s choir member who died because of child abuse. Working closely with families, I would plan for and often lead music for funerals for numerous singers and colleagues.
- That I would need to weather times of controversy over a range of issues from LGBTQ justice, to inclusive language and gender equality, to racial inclusivity, to clergy malfeasance—trying always to do so with integrity, patience, understanding, and love.
- That each community I served would have differing needs requiring me to develop new skills to meet them: My first parish had a long un-used set of handbells which set me on a life-long pursuit as bell choir conductor and composer. Other parishes wanted choirs but the voices available did not fit into the standard SATB format, so I saw the need to write music specially tailored to the situation.
- By the 1990s, when many congregations seemed hopelessly divided between those demanding “contemporary” worship and others preferring traditional choirs and anthems, I am proud to have acted as a peacemaker between the two camps which allowed the Holy Spirit to do its work through music.
And that, my friends, is just a smattering of the challenges one will encounter entering a career in church music. For me, it brings to mind one of Jesus’s parables:
And behold, (a rich young man) came up to him, saying, “Teacher, what good deed must I do, to have eternal life?” And he said to him, “Why do you ask me about what is good? One there is who is good. If you would enter life, keep the commandments.” He said to him, “Which?” And Jesus said, “You shall not kill, You shall not commit adultery, You shall not steal, You shall not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother, and, You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” The young man said to him, “All these I have observed; what do I still lack?” Jesus said to him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” When the young man heard this he went away sorrowful; for he had great possessions. [Matthew 19:16-22, RSV]
How many hundreds of sermons have been preached on the parable of the “rich young ruler?” Many of them rightfully focus on the nature of true and sacrificial servanthood and discipleship, topics that should resonate with anyone seeking work in ministry. I have, however, always been intrigued with another aspect of the story. Clearly the young man felt he was leading a righteous life by assiduously observing all the commandments, but it wasn’t enough. “What do I still lack?”, he asks Jesus. The answer he gets, “go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” That, as we know, was not the answer he hoped for, and hH HHHHe went sadly away. What, I wonder, was the answer he hoped for? I suspect he may have been looking for a safe recipe leading to salvation. Was there a set amount of additional time he should devote to spiritual pursuits and prayer, an ideal number of animal sacrifices to undertake, a leadership role at the Temple? But, instead of the easy answer — a “to-do list” — what he gets is anything but “safe” – Jesus suggests he turn away from all that he values. For the young ruler, it’s not just about wealth, it’s fear of the unknown.
This parable is often quoted to cite the tenuous relationship between material wealth and sacrificial discipleship. Jesus himself pushes us in that direction by closing with the warning: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” [Matthew 19:24]. But for me, the most powerful lesson to be learned is that we are ALL to some extent “rich young rulers.” We want easy answers, a step-by-step guide leading to salvation and eternal life. We are not ready for uncertainness, the risk-taking, the faith, and the sacrifice a commitment to Christ requires.
And certainly, this applies to music ministry in the church. Teachers of music in schools and colleges, if they are competent, have a prescribed set of artistic and academic goals which shape how they do their jobs. Professional musicians in secular society build repertoire and technical expertise to achieve their individual aspirations. A career in music ministry on one level is the same, yet on another is a world apart! Entry level church musicians approach their first jobs as a proverbial “blank slate.” They likely have a love of music and some skills in making music, but only the haziest idea of what it means to work in the church and minister. Professional colleagues don’t help by turning up their noses at the church musicians in their midst as if to say they are somehow a lesser species. Some seem to be paraphrasing George Bernard Shaw, “Those who can, do; those who cannot work in the church.” How hard can it be, they chide, to rehearse a choir of amateurs for an hour or so on a weeknight and sing something with limited expectations on Sunday morning? It also doesn’t help that, while opportunities for creativity through music in the church are more numerous than ever, comprehensive training in the skills needed to be a church musician have been on the decline since the 1960s. Like the rich young ruler, the aspiring church musician sincerely wants to do good work, but the question must be asked: Has his or her mind been opened to the potential of the work, the varied possibilities to change lives, the sacrifices, the risks, the JOY?
The Call
Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know and never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown; will you let my name be known;
Will you let my life be grown in you and you in me?[2]
The apostle Paul wrote eloquently about servanthood and the call to ministry in the first chapter of Colossians: “I became its servant according to God’s commission that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known.” He went on to explain the life of sacrifice a call to servanthood requires. A sermon by the Rev. Canon Kristi Philip of the Cathedral of St. John the Evangelist in Spokane, Washington, referenced John Bell’s Iona hymn “The Summons” to address the subject of ministerial calling. In it she alluded to Isaiah’s vision, Paul’s conversion on the Damascus Road, and Jesus’s call to the fisherman. In each case, she noted, the recipient(s) of the call felt “a profound sense of unworthiness.” This is certainly true for anyone accepting a call to music ministry. “Who we are called to be and what we are called to do,” Philip preached, “is part of a larger, broader sense of vocation.” The church musician is called to be teacher, encourager, passionate advocate for worship, and prayer partner—a job description far beyond that of “musician in residence.” No matter how well trained the church musician entering a new music ministry, there is a sense of stepping into the unknown. How that ministry unfolds will be shaped by the community served and its needs.
Allow me I would like to turn to an unlikely source, Voltaire’s magnum opus, the satirical novel, “Candide.” Let us remember that Voltaire was not an atheist as some have suggested but a Deist who was highly critical of all organized religion. Having had a 50-year career in the church, I certainly cannot embrace Voltaire’s negativity. In his writings, however, we can find much food for thought. The title character of the novel, Candide, is “a youth whom Nature had endowed with a most sweet disposition. His face was the true index of his mind. He had a solid judgment joined to the most unaffected simplicity.” Candide’s childhood is a sheltered one, living in an Eden-like paradise. There, he is mentored by Professor Pangloss whose optimistic teachings can be summed up with the words “all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds.” Candide’s life, of course, runs counter to Pangloss’s optimism. A mind-bending series of crises lead him to abject disillusionment. Life, he finds, is not all what he expected, but in the end he finds enlightenment. Paradise, Candide, realizes is not to be found in wealth, adventure or exotic places. Rather, it is in “doing”, or as Voltaire writes, “We must take care of our garden.”
Which brings me back to Matthew 19. Church musician friends, the church is our garden – it is not a concert hall or a classroom. There will be soil to enrich, seeds to plant, beauty – some of it unexpected – to be nurtured, and hazards to be guarded against. There is no step-by-step, one-size-fits-all guide to effective music ministry. Each church is different with a unique set of needs and potential for spiritual growth through music that is yet to be realized. “The challenge for the church musician of today is one of ministry—to know and embrace the diverse musical and liturgical needs of the community to which he or she is called and revel in that diversity.”[3] It is our joy and fulfillment to set about that adventure.
[1] Some material in this blog is drawn from my book, Servanthood of Song: Music, Ministry, and the Church in the United States, Wipf and Stock Publishing Company/Cascade Books (2024)
[2] “The Summons,” text by John Bell and Graham Maule, © G. I. A. Publications representing Wild Goose Resource Group/Iona Community, 1987. Used by Permission.
[3] McDaniel, Servanthood of Song, 724.