Rev. David Boyd

I have a confession to make... a confession not in the sense of having done something wrong and needing to tell you about it... It's more in the sense that I want to tell you something about myself. It's just that I've always wanted to be a conductor. I played in a rock band when I was a teenager, but secretly I was listening to Beethoven and Bach and Mozart. And while listening I conducted the music. I greatly admired Arturo Toscanini and Herbert von Karajan and loved classical music as well as jazz. Had I followed my heart in those days, who knows what I'd be doing today?

And of all the people, I would credit my mom with instilling in me a love of music—all kinds of music except the twangiest of country music and the grungiest of rock music. Mom didn't discriminate—if it was good music, it was good, period. I appreciated that. And like Amy Ferguson, mom was a church organist and choir director. And like Amy Ferguson instilled in so many people, to this day, I have a love of music and a rudimentary understanding and appreciation of music in all forms.

The world should have more Amy Fergusons and more people like my mom, people who can instil a love of music that is life-long lasting. Part of what is so magical about music is that it changes us. You can't listen to the pathos of Albinoni's Adagio or Allegri's Miserere and not be moved. You can't listen to the likes of a Bach organ piece or Beethoven's 9^th Symphony and not feel hope and optimism. You can't listen to the likes of John Lenin sing Imagine and not feel like you want to change the world. That is the power of music, that it changes us and creates in us such hope for the world and such energy to be about change in life.

One of the most powerful stories of music to change us is the story of Emmanuel Jal, trained from the age of 7 to be a child soldier for the Sudan People's Liberation Army in Southern Sudan and Ethiopia. He joined many thousands of other children sent to train to fight. He was taught 8 different languages as part of his training and by the age of 13 was an experienced soldier. Fortunately, a British aid worker by the name of Emma McCune smuggled him out of the war-torn area; her intention was to adopt him but she died a year after smuggling Emmanuel out of the area. Emmanuel was then forced to live in squalor in Kenya. But, he joined a church choir in Kenya and soon learned to sing. He began to write music about his experiences in Sudan and about the tensions between Muslims and Christians in Africa; he writes about his experiences as a child soldier. But ultimately, he writes music because he sees that this is one of the few ways to bridge chasms between people with different ideologies. He sees that music can heal and change people—music is about transformation. And his style is to use African rhythms and rap music as a way of getting his message of peace and reconciliation across to countless people around the world, and he has been very successful; he sang at Nelson Mandela's 80th birthday celebration last year.

The movie, "The Soloist", which is either just out or coming out soon, is also a true life story about transformation. Nathaniel Anthony Ayers, a child prodigy with the violin, has a mental health breakdown and drops out of Julliard Music School. He's down and out on the streets of Las Angeles and is discovered by a journalist Steve Lopez. As Lopez helps Ayers get himself back onto the performing stage, the transformation of both Lopez and Ayers occurs. Apparently, it's a powerful story and movie of human life changed by love through music. Such is the power of music, to change lives and bring people together.

When I was a young, new minister, I attended a workshop about worship and attracting new members to church—it seems we've been playing at this for decades. The presenter, whose name I've long forgotten, apologised to all of the clergy present and said that what people remember most about worship is music. Long after the sermon is forgotten, hymns and music is what people will remember. Think about the hymns that Amy Ferguson loved; they are probably the hymns that many of your remember. In senior's homes, especially when people are near death, if you start singing an old favourite, the patient's mouth will often start to move; they are singing the old hymns. But it isn't just the old hymns that make an impact. Remember when She Flies On came out—there was a great hue and cry about making God feminine. It is now a well loved hymn. And many of the newer songs have made an impact: Draw the Circle Wide, The Servant Song, Make a Joyful Noise, Siyahamba, and the list goes on. And the presenter at that workshop I attended these many years ago was right; people get much of their theology, much of what they believe about God and the Church, from hymns, songs and music.

It's fitting that music, hymns and songs are about transformation because that, ultimately, is what religion is about. It is about lifting us out of our own self-interested worlds and connecting us to others and to the Great Mystery that is very much part of life and beyond. Christianity is about gifting others with life and affirming that all of life is worth living abundantly. Christianity, like music, takes us from despair to hope, from cynicism to openness, from individualism to community; it takes us across divides, whether they be cultural, religious, or generational.

And many of the stories that we read and share in Church read like music; there is a cadence to them, a rhythm, an essence that opens us to something more. The 23^rd Psalm, which of course in the original Hebrew was a song–a chant–is a case in point. The story of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, pointing back to God as the One who shepherds us to greener pastures and cares for us, sings so readily in our souls. These stories, if we are open to them, transform us and lift us out of our ordinary lives to give us wings to fly.

Mrs. Ferguson knew the power of music to change lives. Emmanuel Jal knows the power of music to bring peace and change lives. Each of us, whether we can sing or not, whether we can play an instrument or not, has been moved by music and know the gift and power of life that music can bring. Today is a day to celebrate the gift of music and the transformation of the world.

Amen.