Elevator Muzak

A few of weeks ago, as I was driving from Missouri to Ohio alone, I was listening to an array of CDs. I had brought along one of those compilation worship CDs and was enjoying the music as I drove and daydreamed, content to have spiritual melodies ensconce me.

And then a random thought struck me (maybe it wasn't so random - you be the judge). Is it proper for worship music to serve as a mere backdrop for my activities? Weren't these songs written with the express purpose of honoring God and calling the singer/performer/listener to do the same? Does allowing such a creative gift to become "ambience" demote it to little more than a fresh coat of paint on the living room wall of my life?

The thought nagged at me. What about other music? Is not music in itself a gift from God? The ability to write melodies and fashion poetic statements is beyond my talents. These are granted by the One who created us. Those who have this gift put forth their energy to create expressions from their heart about myriad themes, all that the human heart might be moved to think above and beyond itself. In music, we are called to interact with the work done by composer, artist, musician, and vocalist. Is not using music - any music - as a "mood-setter" a violation of its very intent? Is it a passive art, or a call to listen, think, worship, even act?

We have made this practice even more mainstream by technological creations which enable us to take our music with us anywhere so that we can fill the empty aural spaces with pleasant sounds. And yet we don't really hear them. I begin to see the point of those artists who are appalled at the thought of great music being sold to Wal-Mart or Chevy and used to sell a product. The gift of music was meant for more than this.

Before technology enabled our ears to hear music second-hand (recorded), it could only be experienced with great effort. The musicians and vocalists had to get together, tune up, rehearse, gather an audience - however formal or informal - and play as listeners did little else but experience the gift. The reason all were gathered was for none other than to give total attention to the message of the music. The music had become the center of the gathering. Now it often plays the role of a barely noticed seasoning in our soup.

This view of music has also robbed us of the significance of silence. We often reach for music (and, of course, TV) as a distraction from our aloneness. It is hard to be alone and quiet because in those moments you see yourself more honestly and that can be a difficult thing. Better to numb ourselves to reality by the soothing of soft tunes in the shadows.

We reveal a more organic understanding of music's beauty and power when we attend concerts. We sit, look on, and listen with complete attention to the tapestry of melodies, harmonies, rhythm and lyrics being woven together before us. It feeds the soul. We have been blessed and we have respected the work of the artists and the Artist. I remember a few years ago hearing James Taylor in concert and actually experiencing a worshipful mood, because the music was such a joy. Though it was from one who did not acknowledge God in any overt way, the gift could not betray its Maker. It was a divine gift.

I am a little more resistant to listening to music as mere filler for my activities now. I contend that we focus as we listen and really hear it. Turn it up. Give attention to it as you would a good book. I realize that habits die hard. I am still very apt to keep music at a semi-conscious level, but I hope to be more intentional about my involvement with it in the future.

I suppose the same could be said of other great pieces of art. Museums honor the purpose. We go specifically to look and experience the creative gift. To slap a copy on our walls merely because it matches the color scheme seems to cheapen the work. Creative gifts are intended to open up something within us as it scratches away at the crust of our life.

Perhaps this rant seems a little too introspective, but I suspect that if I give myself to more intentional music listening, I will find my discernment sharpening. Less of the stuff out there touted as art will be considered worthy of my ears. Music, like any gift from God, can be twisted into selfish uses. It may be time to thin the CD herd in my basement.

He/She who has ears to hear, let him/her hear.