Friday, August 2, 2013

Makin' a little peace in the presence of pain...

Last night I debuted on the upright bass at my first jazz gig in two months - and while it wasn't always pretty, it was a ton of fun.  I only lasted through the first set because playing this big, bad boy rendered my right hand raw with blood blisters.  My teacher told me that this is one PHYSICAL instrument that takes a whole other level of strength and endurance to play well - and now I understand his wisdom.
My wounded fingers, however sore, are beautiful, living signs of a rite of passage - a musical version of the scarification rituals that mark young men with signs of their mortality in service to their community - and I am delighted to finally be off and running with my new instrument.  And it was a smokin' hot set that included tunes like "Blue Bossa," "All Blues," "Autumn Leaves" and one of my all time favorites:  "Comin' Home, Baby" by Herbie Mann (one of the first jazz songs I owned back in the day along with Cannonball Adderley's brilliant "Mercy, Mercy, Mercy." Dianne was singing powerfully, two young musicians - Christian and Bela joined us to fill out the horn section - and the place was backed.
This weekend is going to be sweet in our town - starting off with last night's gig - and ripening with the opening tonight of a regional art installation entitled:  Islam Contemporary.  This international event "is a multi-dimensional cultural initiative that aims to bring a fresh perspective to contemporary Islamic heritage, life and culture, as well give a chance for the audience to interact with groundbreaking art and culture."  (check it out A http://discoverpittsfield.com/ islamcontemporary/) 

On Sunday, we'll begin our "Spirituality of Jazz" series in worship @ 10:30 am.  (check it out here: https://www.facebook.com/ home.php#!/events/ 213686775454726/)  And our friends at Live Out Loud will be showing their new LGBTQ film resource for Berkshire youth at the Beacon Theatre. Later on Sunday afternoon there is a free screening of "The Other Half of Tomorrow" at the Whitney Gallery (check it out @ https:// www.facebook. com/events/ 323459274456201/?notif_t=plan_user _joined)

Things are poppin' in our small part of the world as more and more people sense the importance of finding common ground through the arts.  My abiding belief is that when our hearts are touched, we can nourish these encounters with compassion with living acts of social transformation. Rather than begin with abstract ideology, the arts evoke a deeper experience of communion with "the other" - an intuitive connection - that can lead us to unexpected and even holy places if we are willing to be led by the Spirit.  Here is just one example from our friends in Turkey...

The visual artist and theologian, Mako Fujimura, quotes Tolstoy who said, "The task of art is enormous. Through the influence of real art, aided by science, guided by religion, that peaceful co-operation of man which is now maintained by external means - by our law-courts, police, charitable institution, factory inspections and so forth - should be obtained by our free and joyous activity.  Art should cause violence to be set aside."  Mako continues:

The destiny of art in our time is to transmit from the realm of reason to the realm of feeling the truth.  In other words, the language of the arts translates the universal longing for peace into the tangible experience of the desire for peace. The arts provide us with the language for mediating the broken relational and cultural divides: the arts can model for us how we need to value each person as created in the image of God. (Refractions, p. 11)

He concludes this essay with a challenge by looking out of his window at the young sycamore trees planted where the ashes of Ground Zero once lay:

I see those walking beneath the sycamore trees (as those of) diverse cultures and backgrounds... the culture at large is neither "Christian" nor "secular" but fantastically pluralistic, defying conventional categorizations.  In each culture we will no doubt find evidences of trauma, like the ashes of Ground Zero, as we all find ourselves building upon our pulverized and fragmented past.  We can choose to disengage from such intractable reality, as our hearts will struggle to find rest in such exilic ground as Hiroshima, Auschwitz, Darfur, Afghanistan and son on.  Or we can accept the splintered condition of culture as a  kaleidoscope of common struggles, a reality that only the golden rays of God can restore and recreate via broken humanity.  The later is my staring point...I pray the Spirit will indeed reveal God's presence in the undiscovered recesses of our creative journeys.

Moi aussi mon ami m'a trop!

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