Efficiency vs. care...

Wendell Berry once noted that "the standard of the exploiter is efficiency; the standard of the nurturer is care."  As my faith community ripens into the totally inefficiency of Advent, I am also keenly aware that many churches are completing their stewardship/fund-raising drives, too.  What a clash of realities!  And yet, when the church is really living as the body of Christ - formed and shaped by the paradox of the Cross - we have to let go of our quest for efficiency and trust that God's grace is sufficient.  Barbara Nicolosi put it well:

Creating beauty actually subverts the problem of the Garden of Eden. Satan's temptation was, "You shall be like gods." Adam and Eve, you see, rejected their creaturehood.  And this is the perennial temptation for us:  we want to be like God, we want no limits. But the beautiful makes us content with our creaturehood (so that we might confess) I am small - and that's ok."

This cartoon by the Naked Pastor makes this point in an unexpected way.  I give thanks to God for Advent...

Random thoughts on advent two...

Last night I couldn't go to sleep.  I wasn't exactly anxious, just caught up in thoughts about how to best serve God's people in our faith community during Advent.  And two ideas kept swimming back into my consciousness every time I started to doze off...

+ First, we've been doing a "one minute of silence each day with those you love" prayer as part of our way of embracing the lost art of waiting.  Now for me all three parts of this discipline are important:  a) one minute - 60 seconds - out of 86,400 seconds each day for quiet reflection in the land of busyness; b) silence - waiting rather than doing or asking - in the realm of hyper-activity and super-productivity; and c) with those you love - could be lovers or animals or who knows - whomever or whatever shares life and space with you, ok?  We got to do this 4 times last week... not great but better than half... but I'm the pastor and it was my idea!

We talked about what keeps us from resting in the quietness of God's love - what gets in the way - and the biggest thing was forgetting.  Without other small quiet rituals, like eating supper together, it is too easy to wind up at the end of each day with no time for consciously resting in God's grace.  We are so used to being in control that even this tiny practice feels enormous - and that makes me glad we are sticking with it.  Like an old spiritual director once said, "Don't promise God that you're going to fast for a week and crawl a mile to prayer on your knees.  Just light one candle - and return thanks.  Do that over time - and other small rituals - and before long you'll be a soul in prayer.

+ Second, I have just about finished Douglas John Hall's book, The Cross in Our Context, a work I've been reading on and off for about six years.  At the heart of his wisdom is the "light tradition" born of Luther:  a theology - and ecclesiogy - of the cross. In the penultimate chapter, "On Being Christian Today," Hall explores a modest and tender way of being disciples in the 21st century that both buries our former "theologies of glory and power" by acts of compassion but also unifies our mission with our ethics.  He wonders what it might be if we were committed to Christ as faithful ambassadors of hope and love?

Of all the metaphors Jesus uses to depict the community of witness that he is preparing through his teaching and example and will bring to fruition through the later witness of the Paraclete... are metaphors of smallness: little things that perform some essential service for bigger things - salt, yeast, a candle, a little town on a hill in a dark night, a pearl, a mustard seed... (pg. 189) What (then) would adherence to the theology of the cross mean for a theology of mission?  Perhaps a theology of faith (not sight); of hope (not finality) and love (not power.) (p. 193)

Faith is modest - we see and trust but do not possess truth - for now we see only as through a glass darkly.  Faith in our lives is not infallible - it invites dialogue - and listening.  For "if I am conscious of the fact that my own stance is one of faith, not sight, I must at least be open to the possibility that the other - a human like myself - has something to bring to our meeting... because my faith is trust in Another - neither self nor system" it is all about humility.

Hope is about this moment - not finality or the end of times - but living as a light in the darkness for this day.  It is about invitation not trial and judgment - and shares an abundance of grace and gratitude, too.  Because, hope is born of love not power - and love is "patient, love is kind, love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude, it does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful." (I Corinthians 13)  What, asks Hall, would happen if our mission were to be shaped by faith, hope and love? (pp. 189-199)

I realize that such a proposal is bound to seem naive... no doubt it will be said that such a criterion of authentic Christian mission is impossibly Utopian, idealistic and even discouraging from the outset... but why could it not happen, without naive idealism, that love - God's love, the love that we, being first loved, are learning to show - should be understood by serious ecumenical churches as the first and only unqualified ground for our mission? (pp. 198-199)

Well, that set me off on a thinking jag that lasted way too long into the night:  For over a year I've been wondering if our next all-church act of mission might not be something playful and modest like a regular supper and short jazz concert?  We might have NO set agenda, just some good food and improvisational music that models for us the importance of listening and engaging one another with respect.  If we set aside a little time to see where the Spirit might be leading us, who knows where we might end up?  We might extend a special invitation to artists - and the LGBTQ community - and returning vets and who knows who else?

After our Playfull Living study - and a similar idea born of Parker Palmer's experience - I've been keeping this in my heart and pondering it like Mary.  We're all already too jammed and committed to all the important things we HAVE to do.  What would it mean to be about mission born of faith, hope and love - playful - and open to the spirit in modesty? Hmmm....

Dear john...

I was a first year seminary student at Union Theological Seminary in NYC.  My dentist was across the street from the Dakota.  My young family and I were getting ready to spend 6 months in Costa Rica - for language and liberation theology study - when the news broke that dear John had been shot outside his apartment... and then that he was dead.

I left the seminary refectory and threw up - then wept.  I had been brought to new life - my real Pentecost - seeing the Beatles on Ed Sullivan back in February 1964.  I found purpose and zest playing music - first a lousy acoustic guitar with my buddy, Ross, from confirmation class and later bass in our band Creepin' Jesus - I was always the rogue John Lennon to his emerging Paul McCartney.  I sang the rough, nasty songs to his sweet ballads.  And as so often happens after high school - and college - we went our separate ways.  Sitting in the drizzling darkness of my seminary apartment, however, the phone rang and it was Ross.  We talked and wept some more and found a way to reconnect in our shared sorrow.

I was doing an internship in my old home church - the place where I met Ross and played guitar so often - so that Sunday we all shared a time of silence in memory all across the universe in the place where I had come to faith.  Last summer, in Montreal, another artist who loved dear John shared a new vision of the old songs - and I wept again.  His gifts are timeless so today I give thanks to God for John Lennon.

Easing into advent at the mission...

After our time away last week playing concerts as well as jazz workshops - and after last night's gig at Mission - two thoughts keep coming back to me for deeper exploration.  The first comes from Frank Zappa's wisdom:  Jazz isn't dead - it just smells funny.  It does smell funny - sometimes because it has been intellectualized, sometimes because it has been degraded, sometimes because its roots in African-American culture have been trivialized and sometimes because busy people don't know how to listen for the artist's story in the improvisation - so playing live jazz in a popular venue is tricky business.

Ralph Ellison, in his jazz essays, speaks of the importance of keeping jazz connected to its dance roots:  without a popular groove - and an appreciation for making real connections with real people - the music becomes abstract and disembodied.  Now, that can be interesting - for a while - but it can't be sustained or embraced for the long haul.  So we keep experimenting with mixing up a variety of jazz stylings at every gig:  sometimes Fats Waller winds up next to Thelonius Monk, other times Brazilian bossa tunes kick things off followed with something from Miles and then Billie Holliday.  And every now and again we'll get way out of the box end up with something resembling Herbie Hancock meets Eric Dolphy on the way to jam with Luis Prima.  It is always a work in progress and that is both fun and sometimes a little frightening, too.

The second thought comes from Chris Haden who said: Jazz is like a great void, it waits patiently until a brave musician takes control of space and time. There is a mistaken notion about jazz - deepened by the innocence and arrogance of the Beat Poets - that wants us to believe that improvisation is a spontaneous mystical gift that anyone can share if they just feel the groove and let themselves be free.  WRONG!  Thanks for playing but what that usually sounds like is... garbage.  Real improvisation is built upon hours of practice - it can be playful - but it is always work.  And hopefully it is work you love.  Only then, with lots of time given to honing your craft in private, will the artist dare tread onto the holy ground of improvisation.  And when every one's been practicing - and alss listening for the groove and the genius of the rest of the band - then the great void can become beautiful in space and time.

There were a couple of mystical moments last night - and lots of popular entertainment, too - as we searched for the right balance.  As I ease into the rhythm of the second Sunday of Advent, I was grateful to see so many people from church out at the Mission.  A few were visual artists showing their works at the Arts Walk who popped in to catch a tune and many were those who have come to love creative and spirit-filled jazz. I was blessed by the whole thing and give thanks to God for the chance to practice - and then play - some of the sweetest soul music around with some incredible artists.

We're going to open worship tomorrow with this masterpiece from Brubeck...
(Pictures by Leo Mazzeo)

Jazz at the mission...

We're going to play an early couple of sets tonight at the Mission Bar and Tapas - one of my favorite local hipster places - as part of the regional Arts Walk.  Check them out @ http://www.missionbarandtapas.com/ or stop by 438 North Street in Pittsfield starting @ 5:30 pm.  It will be a sweet groove...



I am most curious about what we're going to sound like:  my friend and colleague, Carlton Maaia II, will be sitting in tonight on keys and sax man, Charlie Tokarz, will be MIA (another gig elsewhere.)  Carlton's groove is easy, sweet and restrained with an artistic subtly that always leaves you wanting more.  That will be cool in every sense of the word.  Maybe there will be a guest horn player - that's simultaneously exciting and terrifying - so we shall see.  Andy is sure to have some surprises so maybe we'll just be a quartet tonight and that'll be a gas, too.

Carlton has worked up two Dave Brubeck tunes for Sunday:  Trav'lin' Blues for the "gathering music" and Strange Meadowlark to wrap things up.  Maybe we'll get to those tonight, too.  Please stop on by - they have the best tapas around and great Spanish wine - and I'd love to see you.

I love the days of the saints...

Historically I understand why Protestants don't do saints, but I think that is a mistake. And while I am a total Prod when it comes to ecclesiology, I think most of my predecessors in the Reformation were waaaay too adolescent in their actions.  Not only did they throw too many babies out with the bath water, but they were arrogant enough to think that they could some how or another reclaim the essence of "true" Biblical worship.  As Charlie Brown might say at this time of year, "Oh good grief!:

Well, that's enough rant for today because it is St. Nicholas Day - patron saints of all children -  and I love this day!  In a great compendium of modern saints and prophets, All Saints by Robert Ellsberg, the month of December starts with a consideration of Charles de Foucauld - one of my favorites - as well as Clement of Alexandria and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.  Check out the Spirituality and Practice review of this book @ http://www.spirituality andpractice. com/books/books.php?id=781

For about 20 years I've been loving St. Nicholas andthe insights born of Gertrud Mueller Nelson in To Dance with God were life changing for me.  She is a brilliant interpreter who draws from "her vast experience and expertise in the history, psychology, and spirituality of ritual in general and Christian ritual in particular... to show parents, friends, and ministers of children... how we might move beyond superficial piety toward developing formational rhythms and rituals in the home that connect us to the meaning and flow of life." She treats Nicholas not only as the ancient source and archetype of our contemporary Santa Claus, but also reflects on why our culture NEEDS Santa Claus!  And it has nothing to do with advancing the cause of consumerism, of course, and everything to do with going deeper into acts of compassion and celebration.

Well does Nicholas deserve to be the patron of children, and well might they delight in his name. But he might also be remembered not only as the joylly source of toys and treasts, but also as the protector of those whose lives and innocence remain threatened today, as they were in the time of St. Nicholas, by violence, poverty and exploitation.

I think of the important work St. Nicholas Kristof of the NY Times does - a living tribute to his name's sake.  Check him out @ http://topics.nytimes.com/top/ opinion/editorials and oped/oped/columnists/nicholasdkristof/index.html

Thoughts on ministry after our annual evaluation...

Tonight I met with my church council to discuss our work together in ministry:  part of the conversation was an assessment of our hits and misses re: last year's goals; another part had to do with my professional work in spiritual nurture, worship and administration; and the last part was an open conversation about our mutual goals for the up-coming year.  It was holy ground for me - and I am grateful.

+ First, rather than a written evaluation, this was a group conversation.  Nuance and body language could be discerned, deeper questions could be explored and the gestalt of our ministry team could ripen and find shape and form.  As a whole, we mostly hit our 2012 goals - and we had a chance to question one another about the places where we missed the mark.  I was reminded - again - how important it is to keep my leaders in the loop of my thinking - especially when it comes to where I sense I should put my energies.  After all, if I refused to engage in mind-reading, I need to be equally explicit with my ministry partners. I learn about my blind spots in conversations like these and value them even when they make me a little uncomfortable. I was also able to carefully explain how sometimes there just isn't any "juice" for a project we once thought was important, so I let it die its natural death.  Having my leaders better understand my internal evaluation process was a very good thing. 

+ Second, it is helpful to review what worked during the past year. Not only do we all too often only comment on our problems, but life moves so quickly that we often forget the blessings that have been shared, too.  So we took the time to say out loud how vibrant and creative our worship celebrations are each week - how powerful the music ministry is now that we can combine contemporary and traditional sounds in a cooperative rather than fearful way - what a treat it is to have a growing Sunday School and the importance of helping each member share their deepest desires and gifts with a wounded world. We took the time to discuss some of the ways we all might help one another be more effective in our respective ministries.  And we noted that a few times our goals had to be scrapped in order to address more pressing concerns. 

+ And third, we prayerfully spoke about where we believe God is calling us to act during the next year.  We must continue getting our financial house in order - and outlined some steps to make that happen. There are a few ministry teams that need a new vision that celebrates compassion and creativity rather than carping about a lost past -- and we'll give attention to this, too. And we have to deepen the work of Christian formation not just for children, but also for adults and families of all sizes and configurations. 

On my ride home I thought to myself: time and again, my life and sense of hope is enriched by spending time with my church council.  They are people of faith, humor, humility and integrity.  This is not always the case - and we've all tasted the alternative - and honor the blessings we currently share.  Thankfully we began the evening by eating dinner together.  This makes a huge difference, yes?  So often our eyes and hearts are opened when we break bread together.  Afterwards we were ready to work through the evaluation - a process that helped me - and also included the whole leadership team.  I feel both encouraged and blessed... so now the rest of Advent can unfold.   

A true peace-maker through jazz...

"One of the reasons I believe in jazz,” Dave Brubeck once said, “is that the oneness of man can come through the rhythm of your heart. It’s the same anyplace in the world, that heartbeat. It’s the first thing you hear when you’re born — or before you’re born — and it’s the last thing you hear.”  Amen to that, brother - and now you have returned to the great beat beyond this realm where you'll be swingin' with the saints in glory.  A few years ago he was the headliner at the Pittsfield Jazz Festival where he shared his gift - and his encouragement - with players young and old. 

I love this cat's music - and spirit - and cherish what he shared with the world.  Check out his obit in the Times @ http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/06/arts/music/dave-brubeck-jazz-musician-dies-at-91.html?pagewanted=all) Rest in peace, my man:  you've blessed us all!

Advent Two: a biblical vision vs. american melodrama...

NOTE:  Here are my worship notes for Advent II on Sunday, December 9, 2012.

Introduction

Have you ever realized – and embraced – the baffling fact that sometimes we can hold two opposing and even contradictory truths together in our mind at the same time?  Some call it paradox; others say irony.  In some spiritual traditions they speak of this as mysticism or a living encounter with the heart of the Lord; while others consider any such a notion as theologically absurd or at best highly inconsistent and irrational.

·       So let me ask you again:  have you ever realized – and then embraced – the fact that we often hold together two opposing and even contradictory truths at the same time? 

·       Think about it:  I love my dogs but sometimes want to kill them, right?  I cherish time with my children and also rejoice when they head back to their own homes, too.  I know I need to lose weight and still eat another pumpkin scone. 

·       Going deeper we might say things like:  I honor my country and its traditions but sometimes detest the things we do as a nation.  Or I am opposed to the wars of invasion in the Middle East but still support our troops.  Maybe you’ve even thought something like this: I celebrate the beauty and grace of the church but am saddened and angry when she acts stupid or cruel.

In the liturgy of Holy Communion we sometimes confess:  Christ has died – Christ has risen – Christ will come again.  The Bible speaks of the Word made Flesh, the marriage of heaven and earth, believers who are IN the world but not OF the world.  And it is always both/and – realizing and embracing the paradox – rather than demanding one or the other. 

 

·       Ok, what is it:  the Word OR the Flesh?  Come on, make up your mind and tell me the truth:  has Christ died or risen – and what are you talking about when you say he will come again? 

·       Well, in our own ordinary lives as well as our journey by faith we’re talking about truths and experiences that stretch us – that call us deeper – and invite us to live in ways that are more profound than the obvious.

On the second Sunday of Advent this is expressed in the challenge of the prophets – Malachi and the Baptist – who speak of having our impurities refined by God’s fire, living in ways that document our repentance and having our souls cleansed by the Lord’s judgment:

In the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
 the crooked shall be made straight and the rough ways made smooth…

And here’s the paradox:  most Americans believe that we can do this judging and sorting – this purifying and refining and changing – all by ourselves when, in fact, it can only come from God.   This is where we come up against the “realize AND embrace” part of Advent, you see; because no matter how hard we try, we can never heal or forgive ourselves.  Grace comes from the Lord, not our own efforts – and this contradicts and confronts almost everything we’ve ever learned as Americans. 

Insights

Most of us have been trained to believe that if we work hard enough – and act good enough – and do mostly the right things in life, then we will be rewarded.  We teach this to our children, it is what we learned in social studies and it is often how we evaluate our politicians.  At the heart of the American dream, you see, is the belief that not only do we control our own destiny, but that if we work hard enough – and apply enough reason – then good things will happen:  rags can become riches, Abraham Lincoln or Barrack Obama can become President, we can buy whatever we need to be happy, Dorothy will find her way home from Oz if only she has enough faith in herself, good can overcome evil and science will find a cure for cancer.  Am I being clear?

Just think out loud with me for a moment about some of the most successful movies and television programs in American culture:

·       The Sound of Music, Forrest Gump, Pretty Woman, Braveheart, Raiders of the Lost Ark and all the Disney movies old and contemporary:  they all are melodramas about how individuals triumph over harsh realities and make a new life for themselves by working hard and thinking right.  They all close with a happy ending where people live happily ever after. 

·       Most TV shows do the same thing:  Dallas, Desperate Housewives, NCIS, Grey’s Anatomy – as I child I loved Gunsmoke and Rawhide – and my young family always watched Cosby and Family Ties – and they were all melodramas, too.

Now hear me out:   I’m not saying that there aren’t more ambiguous and complex movies or television programs – clearly this year the Batman/Dark Knight film falls into that category as would tv shows like Mad Men and the Sons of Anarchy – and I’m not saying that hard work and clear thinking doesn’t matter because it does.  Rather, I’m talking about the dominant story of our culture and how it trains us into believing that we can control everything and fix whatever is broken.

·       I can’t tell you how many heart-sick people I have visited over the years who tell me things like:  I don’t know why this is happening to me – I’ve done everything right – eaten well, paid my taxes, loved my family and exercised religiously.  How come I got… cancer – or HIV/AIDS – or a heart attack two weeks after I retired?  How come I lost my job – my home – my children – my lover?  For the love of Jesus I’m a good person why is this happening to me? 

·       Well the truth of the matter is I have no idea why you are sick – or suffering – or terrified – or addicted.  All I know is that trusting just the American story isn’t big enough to deal with all the harsh, mystifying and complex realities of our lives.  No, for the fullness of our lives, we need God and God’s grace – because only God can bring understanding to our confusion – and only God can bring us the peace we need in our suffering.

Most of the time, beloved, we can’t fix what is hurting – that can only come from the Lord – and that is part of what this second week in Advent is all about:  it is an invitation to recognize and embrace those wilderness parts of our lives that we need God to make straight and plain and peaceful.  

·       The prophets for this day tell us to prepare a way for the Lord, ok?  They don’t say, “Try and DO the Lord’s work.  Make every effort to cleanse thyself of sin and purify thy own hearts of fear.”

·       Not at all:  That is neither what John the Baptist is all about nor Malachi either. They come to us as messengers challenging us to get ready:  open your hearts – recognize your broken places – own the fact that you can’t fix yourself and let go of your addiction to the American story long enough for God’s grace to wash over you with forgiveness.

That’s what it means to get ready in Advent – that’s why we’re taking one minute every day to be silent – that’s why we’re lighting a candle in the darkness – we are preparing ourselves for God’s grace by letting go of our control.  It is an act of trust that is quiet and gentle and deep.  It is preparing our hearts and minds for the Biblical story in addition to our American one because the Biblical story is much more nuanced and complex than the American melodrama.  The Biblical story takes sin – and forgiveness – seriously, acknowledging that both often reside in our lives, yes? The Biblical story trusts God as well as human reason – but trusts God more.  And the Biblical story trains us to see God’s grace breaking into the world in the most unusual places.  It is all about realizing AND embracing the paradox.

So think about it:  if we’re paying attention, the Biblical story in Advent invites us to open our hearts by faith to the birth of both John the Baptist and Jesus the Christ Child.  Two vulnerable children set down in the midst of Rome’s empire who are ignored by most of the world but who changed everything for ever.  Preacher David Lose puts it like this:

“(The Biblical vision and story tells of) two children who will grow up to change the world, it speaks of how an instrument of Roman torture was turned into the means by which God reconciles the world unto God’s own self… it is always something of the mustard-seed that creeps in, unawares, small and insignificant, until it grows and spreads, infesting whole fields and inviting all kinds of creatures to take refuge in its branches.”

So Luke makes the outrageous claim that God is at work in the weak and small – babies and barren women and unwed teenage mothers and wild-eyed prophets and itinerant preachers and executed criminals – who will change the world. And, to be quite honest, (the story goes on to say that) God’s not done yet. God continues to work through unlikely characters today – unpopular teens and out-of-work adults and corporate executives and stay-at-home parents and underpaid secretaries and night-shift workers and police officers and volunteer baseball coaches and even burned out preachers – all of whom can announce the news of God’s redemption…

…when God empowers us be grace to act in faith.

Conclusion

The discipline of the second Sunday in Advent is spend less – spend less money so you avoid debt, spend less on things you don’t need so you have more resources to care for those you love – and that’s the obvious part.  The deeper discipline is this:  spend less time trying to control things so that there is more room for trusting the Lord. 

Jesus once taught his disciples this truth in the Sermon on the Mount when he said:

You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule… You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you… and you’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.

I am so grateful God comes to us in this unexpected, small and often irrelevant story that challenges the melodrama of my culture.  I don’t know about you, but I need this kind of God who loves what is broken and worthless and forgotten – it gives me hope – and maybe could be good news for you, too.

Advent reflections on a jazz weekend...

This past weekend was spent in a "North Country Residency" in Littleton, NH.  We played two concerts, shared a jazz workshop at a regional elementary school and did three workshops. It was exhausting, exhilarating and expansive for us as a band and I hope we can make this happen again.  Because, you see, it was a chance to critically reflect on our "peace-making through music" commitments with the wider public - and then support our interpretation with the music we love.

For a long time I've been thinking about this work - playing jazz, yes - but also playing jazz in a peace-making mode.  Most of the time we just do a gig - and most of the time the gigs are fun whether they are in a school, church or bar; but I have discerned that it helps me to have some quiet time to talk about the reasons why we do what we do. I don't know if that is true for the rest of the band - different strokes for different folks and all that - because for some being in the musical moment is all that matters. But for me there is a world view at work in my art - a marriage of aesthetics, spirituality and life goals - because I believe that "beauty can save the world."

Now I am not so naive as to suggest that playing a few gigs in Turkey - or New Hampshire or Nicaragua - is going to change the world.  At the same time I know that playing jazz as an ambassador for peace matters.  Our music cuts deeper than theology or ideology. It immediately creates common ground.  Without words, we feel something together.  We may want to explore what those feelings are - and why they matter to us - at a later time, but for a moment our hearts open to one another in the music.  And in a world filled with fear and violence, open hearts are always a good thing. In fact, I am of the belief that open hearts create opportunities for understanding and compassion.  In my world, this is one of the ways the inspiration of the Holy Spirit is realized in time; when I use my time, gifts and resources as a vessel for God's will in the real world, sacred words become flesh.

So we talked about open hearts in our workshops and why they matter.  We shared stories and insights about what it means to practice active listening on the bandstand as well as in our homes and in cross-cultural encounters.  My mentor in this is Wynton Marsalis who noted that four key realities take place on the bandstand that have application for the peace-making world, too:

+ First, the band agrees to show up together and explore creating something beautiful.  Not destructive or selfish, not self-absorbed or mean-spirited: beautiful.  In other words, there is a vision and a commitment to making something creative and soul-satisfying that feeds our hungry hearts.  During the workshops I spoke of how Alexander Solzhenitsyn came to affirm the wisdom of Dostoevsky who proclaimed that beauty can save the world.  And in his Nobel Peace Address, Solzhenitsyn explains how that worked in his life as he opposed the brutality and banality of evil in communist Russia. So first there is a vision of something that simultaneously lifts our spirits and feeds our hearts:  beauty.

+ Second, on the bandstand we share our gifts equally - always listening for the strengths and weaknesses of a song - and they are always there.  Sometimes, as a bass player, I find myself in a tug of war with the drummer: he likes to take it fast and I tend to want to lay back in the pocket. Not only do we have to notice that tension, we have to playfully engage it - test both desires out in real time - and then make a compromise.  If the song is going to work, one player needs to be given the freedom to take off so that the rest of us can follow. We don't always get our own way. So we have to trust that in time the inverse will be true, too and we will have room to fly.  In every song there are a lot of other call and response things taking place that demand our attention like where's the guitar player going with his solo?  is the sax man in or out of the box tonight? when the piano guy is playing without any relationship to time, our rhythm section groove had better be extra tight... and what the hell key does the vocalist want to do this song in? Active and cooperative listening is essential.

+ Third, paying attention to the crowd - learning to read their reactions - can make or break a gig.  Some players don't give a shit.  It is said that out of shyness and a response to racism, Miles would sometimes turn his back on the audience and play just for his own love of the music.  Most of us, however, need to pay attention to what's going on in the joint and make changes accordingly or we'll never be called back to that bandstand again.  I've seen players get too trashed to play well - that's not pretty - and I've seen bands get too caught up in their feelings, too.  They run all over an audience in an ugly and self-indulgent romp.  And let's not forget players who get so lost in their own heads that they don't consider how the crowd - or their colleagues - are feeling and race towards oblivion in what will surely be a train wreck.  Been there and seen (and sometimes done) them all. 

+ And fourth there is the freedom experienced, created and shared with improvisation. There is truly nothing like it in any other musical genre - so it has to be respected. You can't improvise if you haven't practiced.  You better not improvise if it is all about you and not the song.  And you shouldn't improvise if you don't feel it.  But when you do - and you get it all lined up - you are in a moment where you can explore anything in peace and trust.  As Bill Frissell likes to say:  it is a moment where you can go anywhere and nobody gets hurt - so let's be clear that improvisation is holy ground.  Listen to the masters - Bird, Miles, Herbie Hancock, Monk or Coltrane - take a trip with Nina Simone, too - and you will be lifted and blessed.  This is freedom talking to us and embracing us at the same time.

Towards the end of one workshop, someone asked: "How do you do peace-making through music?"  First, trust the Lord (I thought to myself) and then practice active listening on each of these levels - very active listening - for beauty, cooperation and musical integrity, for compromise, groove and connection with the people, too.  It is a commitment.  It is a worldview.  And it takes lots and lots of practice... but worth every minute of it.

Quick update after a long weekend...

What a beautiful and full weekend:  the Jazz Ambassadors left for Northern New Hampshire on Friday morning @ 5 am for two full days of concerts, workshops and conversations with young people about jazz.

We spoke about peace-making through music and active listening on the bandstand as a metaphor for practicing/nourishing cultural creativity - and we played a ton of jazz!  We had a workshop on improvisation, we helped 15 young high school students work up a variety of tunes for our Friday evening concert and played in a refurbished 1930s music hall.

We also did up the town right on Friday night and then played a Saturday morning concert!  It snowed and sleeted, sometimes hovered about 5F and was a total gas.  Then Sunday was the celebration of the first day of Advent - and daughter Jesse was in from NYC.  We ate bean soup, hung up new Christmas lights and shared tea and conversation.  Worship was very upbeat, lots of children in the mix and a sweet, sweet spirit in the air.  What a full and blessed time.