Janey Wilson's jazz mass sermon

JAZZ EUCHARIST SERMON 7. 13.07 Mission House
May our work in the world be a vehicle for Your Love; May it shine and light up all darkened places. Be with us, O Lord. Amen. (Adapted from Marianne Williamson’s Illuminata.)

When I was a teenager growing up in the Quad Cities (those are the four cities—Davenport, Moline, Rock Island and Bettendorf-- where Illinois and Iowa meet at the Mississippi River,) I was privileged to attend the Bix Beiderbecke Jazz festival for several years running. As some of you may know, Bix was a home town hero; the festival took place every July on the levee in Davenport. Scheduled concerts occurred from about ten in the morning until 9:00 at night and the jam sessions in the down town bars went on until they could go no further. People brought blankets and something to eat or drink and the general idea was to lie around absorbing the rays and the sounds in sort of an idyllic haze. OK, it was the seventies—there may have been more to that haze!! The festival happens to this day, but of course it is now ‘ginormous’-- (I needed to use that word since Webster added it this week!) Now there are several venues at the festival to make it easier for people to listen to good jazz.

But in those days, it was all on the levee, and there was an accepted protocol of quiet reverence in that makeshift weekend community, and a shared sense of space. Considering the fact that even in those early days there were hundreds of people, that peacefulness amazes me when I think of it now. The very serious listeners knew every musician and every piece of music, delighting in the individual variations. My Aunt Kath was like that—a walking biographical and musical dictionary but only before and after the music, never during. The less serious, like I was at that age, were content to just absorb the richness of the experience, appreciating what appealed and following our own stream of consciousness against the rest of it.

So as I was preparing for today, and recalling that experience, I wondered “What do St. Benedict, Jazz and the readings today have in common?” More than you might think!
For instance, I came across a quote by Jazz great Stan Getz. Getz was a brilliant saxophone player, heavy into the Bossa Nova movement. He led a rather troubled life but did manage to pull it together by the end of it. He said: “There are four qualities essential to a great Jazz player. They are taste, courage, individuality and irreverence.”
I wondered as I read that if these were not also qualities that might make a good Christian. I wondered if these would be good qualities for someone willing to walk with “loving and willing hearts in the school of the Lord’s service.”

After some mental gymnastics—(the only kind I attempt!) I decided perhaps there was a correlation. On the surface, you might not see the connections. But bear with me as we look at Getz’s qualities and let’s see what happens.

Taste is defined in The American Heritage Dictionary as “the sense of what is proper, seemly, or least likely to give offense.”
That’s helpful in community.
Ultimately though, and I am not speaking of the socially acceptable kind of taste with which all Episcopalians are indoctrinated; I do not mean the “White Gloves and Party Manners” kind of taste. I am not sure that is what Getz means either. I am speaking of something more simple, of knowing what fits in the context of what we are trying to achieve. I am speaking of recognizing and understanding the wisdom and truth we hear in Scripture, and of trying to understand how we can make that mesh with our lives. As Rowan Williams says about St. Benedict’s work, “the Rule, after all, is not an archaeological document but something that is continually being reinterpreted in the life of the communities that are based upon it – like the Scriptures themselves.”
This obviously connects with the reading from Proverbs we heard tonight. If you were able to hear it over the helicopter, you might remember the beginning of that passage--
If we accept,
If we incline our hearts
If we cry out for insight
If we seek it like silver (like treasure; this is a wisdom literature tradition,)
Then we will understand . . .and find knowledge of God. We might even see taste and discernment in the same light as we consider how this passage inspires us. But it’s not always so easy to just recognize these actions of moving toward God. We can know that we need to incline our hearts, but that does not make it so. That leads us to the second of Getz’s four characteristics: courage.

Our Gospel today surely addresses this characteristic. Luke uses images to make connections to previous passage, (the dinner with the guests who would not attend.) As Luke always argues, possessions and personal commitments aren’t the primary mission; the network might keep one from picking up the cross. One commentary puts it another way, “Radical Allegiance is necessary.”
Courage indeed.
But then, life is not for the faint hearted. Why should our relationship with God be superficial?
Of course, courage is not always our first instinct. In truth we often only commit in our ‘instant gratification world’ with the back pedaling safety net of a later refusal. Statistics show that most people will change careers at least three times. I have been travel agent, librarian, and now clergy. I think I am done now!! Although it is possible to see the thread between them if you look carefully (after all, each of those help people get where they need to go!) it is also honest to see the restless disentanglement between the shifts. And yet, it is interesting to note that 75 % of 26-31 year olds believe that a long term relationship with one employer is preferable.
And, what about courage in relationships?
50% of first marriages and 60 % of second end in divorce. That mythical seven year itch is grounded in statistical fact. Seven year marriages are seen as the norm, not the exception. But we can be hopeful that 65 percent of marriages that last past seven years are still strong at the tenth anniversary. Despite these positive trends, it is discouragingly clear that we are a commitment- phobic society. Otherwise, Madison Avenue’s campaign for the new weight loss drug, Alli, would not hit home so well. “You can’t just try Alli,” the ad proclaims. “You have to commit.”
Ouch!

St. Benedict knew about the courage of commitment, just as he knew about individuality. To be sure, he was writing his Rule in 540 for a community. But that community was begun by the courageous act of an individual when St. Benedict withdrew from the horror of Rome to the caverns at Lake Subiaco. The community formed around him, but he took the courage first to incline his heart toward God in a very singular way.

In the jazz sense, perhaps St. Benedict was improvising. Improvization (or improv. if you are cooler than I am,) is defined as “spontaneously creating fresh melodies over the continuously repeating cycle of chord changes within a tune.” The Rule allows for individual gifts and the way in which they add to the gifts of the community. But you cannot be purely individual or the ‘improv.’ will not work. Rowan Williams alludes to that when he talks about the concept of obedience. “As the Rule insists, especially in its fifth chapter, obedience for the monk is the practice of constantly being ready to suspend a purely individual will or perception for the sake of discovering God's will in the common life of the community.” We must incline our hearts, but we must not forget to listen as well.
Getz’s fourth and final concept is irreverence. Those of you who know me will not be surprised that I advocate this, but you may not see what on earth it has to do with Jesus’ very serious warnings about the Cross being difficult to bear. My argument is this: Irreverence is only possible in the presence of great reverence. Irreverence allows me to handle the reverence at my own pace and in my own way. It allows me to hear Luke’s admonition against placing importance on possessions and simultaneously fight the urge to clean my closet out before finishing this sermon, --as well as to shamefacedly realize that putting things into my closet may well take too large a percentage of my time and attention. It allows me the balance that St. Benedict was so eloquent in promoting. The Archbishop of Canterbury has observed our societal quandary with this concept of balance. He says that, we do not understand either the concept of work or leisure, and we are obsessive about both. He sees time as an “undifferentiated continuum” in which we either consume or work, and work is a 24 hour occupation. We have no boundaries and no balance. We need to have both in order to be able to seek the treasure of this relationship with God. And in order to walk with willing and loving hearts in the school of the Lord’s service, we may also need that which a good Jazz musician needs-- taste, courage, individuality and irreverence.

And perhaps something more, something that Getz left out of his definition, but that neither the author of Proverbs or the Gospel of Luke could ignore. There is another term in the Jazz Glossary that I appreciate. “Woodshed” means to practice diligently. Again, if you are cool, you can just say “shed.” Jazz requires great discipline—and lots of “shed” to be free. So too as twenty-first century humans, frightened of commitment, unable to keep balance in our daily lives and yet yearning to incline our hearts to God, discipline is a characteristic we must “shed.”

But how do we carry this off? Personally, the only thing I dislike talking about more than sin is discipline. It is a constant battle for me, and I think it is tied up with the fact that God and I have an ongoing and intimate conversation about who is in control. Oh, I know absolutely that I am not in control.
I just manage to forget it on a daily basis.
I can hear my grandmother saying fondly, “Go ahead, hard head, and see what you come to.”
So in my case, this requires lots of “shed,” although perhaps for some here that is a lesser struggle. But there are some great places to begin as we think about it. One of my favorites is the Prayer of Self Dedication on page 832 of the BCP.
“Almighty and Eternal God, so draw our hearts to you, so guide our minds, so fill our imaginations, so control our wills, that we may be wholly yours, utterly dedicated to you, and then use us, we pray you, as you will, and always to your glory and the welfare of your people, through our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.”

This is a process. Taking up the cross is not easy or casual. It requires commitment. Part of that commitment is our Baptism, and part of that commitment is in our returning time after time to the Altar for Eucharist, to taste, to take courage and comfort, and to begin anew to incline our hearts toward God.

It is here also that we begin to remember and understand God’s commitment to us. As we proceed forth in this Eucharist, may it be so.
Amen
The Rev. Janey Wilson, July 13, 2007