Next Sunday: Peace-Making Through Jazz...

Next Sunday - October 14th - is going to be a total blast.  First, we're going to have two guests from Turkey, Ahmet and Eser, join us for worship and reflections after worship.  Second, my mates from the Jazz Ambassadors will also join us for some music and sharing about "peace-making through jazz." (BTW if you want to check out this band, go to: http://sistercityjazz.blogspot.com/)  And third, I will offer my take on why sharing jazz music is essential to the discovery of common ground across barriers of race, religion, culture.

Brother Wynton Marsailis put it like this:  the bandstand is a sacred place... (and there is a) soulful thing about playing: you offer something to somebody. You don't know if they'll like it, but you offer it... Understand as long as there is democracy, there will be people wanting to play jazz because nothing else will ever so perfectly capture the democratic process in sound. Jazz means working things out musically with other people. You have to listen to other musicians and play with them even if you don’t agree with what they’re playing. It teaches you the very opposite of racism and anti-Semitism. It teaches you that the world is big enough to accommodate us all.  

Last Friday night, for example, our band was sizzlin' towards the end of our second set at the Mission.  And just when we thought it couldn't get any hotter, two of the best trumpeters in the county showed up.  Not one, but count em two maestros - and they immediately came onto the bandstand to join the mix.  We played a swinging jazz standard to give ourselves a little room to take it all in and then jumped into some Dixieland. And then before you knew it we were heading right into the Miles Davis classic, "All Blues."

Now the bass sets the groove for this song and I almost ALWAYS hear it slow and sultry. But our drummer was pumped and wanted to push it faster... and for about 24 bars we were having a musical tug of war - with some verbal discussion thown in for good measure -because it wasn't yet clear where the Spirit was taking this thing.  Then, with the tension in the rhythm section VERY real, out of nowhere he smiled and said, "Yeah, baby, go for it slow:  feel it and make it cook." And we were off for 20 minutes of badass improvisation that felt like summer time in New Orleans. 

Unpacking the set afterwards, we both said something like:  playing this music is such a blessing - not only do we have to keep it real by listening and checking in and going with our gut - but we have to also be willing to let go of our stuff on behalf of the greater beauty.  And always - always -  always - when this happens we know that there is something going on that is greater than us.  Always. You may not dig the musical mysticism, but it is for real:  when you are playing you HAVE to listen to the other musicians and play with them even if you don't always agree with what they're playing.

That's the heart of what my peace-making message next week is going to be about - and I'll also note that jazz let's musicians talk about real life in their music, too. We're talking about the HUMAN experience - not just the American experience or the Turkish experience or the male or female thing - but the human experience.  And those who aren't afraid of discovering common ground IN the human experience are open to the groove of jazz. 

Poet, Oscar Brown, Jr, put it like this in a tune we'll do on Sunday:

The sea, the sky, the you and I The sea, the sky, for you and I I'll know we're all blues All Shades, all hues, all blues Some blues are sad But some are glad, Dark-sad or bright-galdThey're all blues All shades, all hues, all blues The color of colors The blues are more than a color They're a moan of pain A Taste of strife And a sad refrain A game which life is playin' Blues can be the livin' dues We're all a-payin' Yeah, Oh Lord In a rainbow A summer day that's fair A parayer is prayed A lament that's made Some shade of blues is there; Blue heaven's hue, They're all blues!

That's what we discovered in Istanbul.  That's what I've seen happen in Moscow and the band has found in Italy and Ireland and Nicargua, too.  Hell, I've seen it in middle schools where rich white kids who think they are too hip to care get caught up in the groove and our shared humanity at a deep level - and before you know it THEY get it, too.  Marsailis is right:  in THOSE moments, the bandstand becomes a sacred place.

Please join us for worship next Sunday @ 10:30 am if you can.