I Will Sing

As 2009 nears its inevitable end, I have found myself looking back over threads and themes and events. A common thread woven throughout is that of music, and so I decided to post some reflections on the subject. It seems like with each passing day music gets more important and integral to the way I live. I've gone to ten concerts this year, more than tripling the amount I've been to in my whole life. I've bought many more albums. I did some calculations last night, and realized that I've spent about $600 on music this year total, which is rather a lot for a college student (though, to be fair, I've paid the school more than twice that much this year and have given at least that much money again to other necessary expenses-- living is an expensive business). Even though I often find myself digging through my drawers and the bottom of my backpack to find enough quarters to be able to buy a song from iTunes, even though I've missed homework time and been sore for days due to concerts, even though I could have flown to Colorado or California and back twice with that amount of money... it's been worth it.

Music is how God speaks to me more strongly than through anything else (see The Joys Of Our Hearts). Songs can sing truth into my life when all the other doors are shut and the lights go off. I think this is because songs have a habit of being honest. We say things in songs that we can't or don't know how to say in any other way.

An interesting side effect of this is that professional musicians are often some of the most real and honest people I've ever met. This year I have been able to talk to a lot of bands who others would give a lot to meet. I've met Christian rock heavy-weights like Red and chatted with Thousand Foot Krutch. I've talked to musicians who have defined the Christian music genre, such as Newsboys and Audio Adrenaline and Jars of Clay. I've talked to Superchic[k] about my heritage and BarlowGirl about my hair. I've chatted with DecembeRadio about the music industry, been teased by B. Reith about the way I said my name, and joked with VOTA about how tall I am. Ironically enough, I still haven't met my favorite band, but I've worked their merch table and hung out with their violin and cello player. I've learned a few things through these conversations, and not just about the music industry. I've learned that musicians are people who are trying to get through life just like the rest of us, and often the songs are as much to help them find their way as they are to help others.

Any time someone takes the stage in front of a few thousand people, they have the opportunity to speak for change and for hope. I think sometimes we confuse this extra influence they may have for the people themselves somehow being bigger and better, but that's really not the case.

Another thing I've seen this year is that music, like anything else, can be taken and twisted. It's natural that something as beautiful and powerful as music would be an automatic target for darkness to pervert. I saw a secular rock band perform for the first time, and it made me ache inside. Between the profanity and the alcohol and the dark words, I saw a terrible, empty cry for help. And it was then that I really truly understood how important it is for there to be Christians prominent in the music industry. For Christians to shut themselves away in their own genres and their own labels and their own tours would be to give darkness an open door to control the rock music scene. People like John of Skillet and Trevor of TFK have no interest in letting that happen. They are fighting the crippling world of secular rock with words of light and of life.

All this to say that music is an incredibly powerful thing. I don't care what genre your music is, it's powerful, because it has the power to move and to mean something on a level so far beyond skin-deep. Whether it's classical or blues or jazz or country or soundtracks or rock and roll, it has strength and beauty. It has an irresistible way of moving our souls, whether positively or negatively.

That said, this year I have also learned the power of silence. There are times when we can use the music to hide, when it's just adding to the noise (to quote Switchfoot). In a world that is busy and loud and blinding and never slows down, we sometimes need to seek silence. There have been a few times when I've gone and switched off everything and found a place away from my laptop, my iPod, even my piano, and simply surrendered my silence to God so that His voice could come in clear. I have never regretted doing that. What I do regret is not doing it more often.

I've seen music change lives in incredibly powerful ways. I've seen it bring life out of dying souls. It awes me, at times, that God would give us such an incredible gift... and then so often we misuse it. We worship the scene instead of the Spirit behind the songs, we focus on the stage rather than the human impact. But when we can get past that, when we dive into the heart of music, we are faced with brilliant, clear-cut truths that seem hard to reach anywhere else. If I were to stand on a hill top and yell "this is the last night you'll spend alone, I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go. I'm everything you need me to be," I would get a lot of odd stares and it would be meaningless. But when the words to my favorite song, The Last Night, are sung, they've saved lives. The amount of stories I've heard about that song saving and changing people is almost unbelievable. I think part of it is that music has an odd ability to detach itself from the musician and connect to the listener, to bleed passion over the edges of normal human interaction. As I said before, things can be said in music that can't be said anywhere else. Music is a channel for communication. I don't know any other setting where you can stand beside 4,000 people screaming "no, you'll never be alone," and no one thinks it's weird or awkward.

Perhaps this blog is, in a sense, an explanation as to why I am so in love with music. As I said in Passion is Contagious, I am addicted to passion. I am also addicted to honesty, and to people connecting and moving together out of love. These things all combine in music. Also, music is something that cannot ever be taken away from us. Friends come and go, but songs stay the same. Situations change, teenagers grow into adults and move to new places, jobs ends and new ones begin, and still there is music. And it goes beyond that. Over the past several thousand years, technology has changed, styles have changed, religions have changed, wars have torn nations and homes and people apart, ideas and beliefs have crumbled under the weight of human failure... and music has survived. If you take my computer and my iPod and my concerts, I will play piano. If you take away my piano, I will sing until the very breath from my lungs is stolen by the silence of death.

"Yes, I will die one day- of this I am certain. But I'm not dead yet! No, tonight there is breath in my lungs- pushing, pulsing, yearning to break free... I will dream, for dreams are the seeds of what may be. I will wonder, for without wonder, how could life be wonderful? And I will sing.

Yes, until my pending death I will sing. In the face of indifference, I will sing. In the face of adversity, I will sing. I will sing about the pain. I will sing about the mystery. I will sing of the hope, the cage, the bullet, the winter, the dreamer. I will sing of all of these." - Jon Foreman

And in the face of all of this I find it necessary to ask myself: what songs am I singing? What songs am I allowing to be sung into my life? Am I clinging to songs of honesty and truth-- not songs that deny pain, but songs that show that hurt can be defeated by light? Or am I clinging to songs that lie to me about love, about people, about life, about hope? It's a question worth asking, for someone who spends a lot of time listening to music. Also, am I letting the music move me to turn around and speak truth and light into the lives of others? Because in the end, if it doesn't move me to hope and to love, then it's just adding to the noise.

I've asked God many, many times about how He wants to use my love for music, about why He's blessed me through so many conversations with professional musicians and so many concerts. I can understand and see music's short-term effects of encouraging me and teaching me and reminding me of His presence, but I can't see the long-term yet. God typically just answers "wait and see," like a parent planning some remarkable adventure and responding to a child's eager questions. So I will wait on His answers and His timing... and in the meantime, I will listen, and I will play piano, and I will let it move me to love.

I don't usually do this, but I'm going to ask for your input, since I know a lot of people read my blog now and I honestly want to hear answers. Has there been a moment when a song moved you? If you play an instrument, what's more meaningful-- playing music or listening to it? Do you agree or disagree with my assessment of the effect music can have on people? Do you think I'm completely insane for being so obsessed with Skillet? Alright, so maybe that last question wasn't serious, and I'm not sure I really want to hear the answers to that one. But feel free to give me your input on a few or all of the rest.

Thanks for sharing in my thoughts. I hope today finds you well.

- Elraen -