Text: Ecclesiastes 3:11
“So what’s your favorite kind of music, Bill?” my friend asked him.
“Golden oldies,” he said.
Now, we all have our favorite kinds of music. I’ve got mine; you’ve got yours. And I don’t mean any offense to you if you’re a fan of the oldies, greatest hits from the 1950s, ’60s, and ’70s. It’s just not what I would choose. See, when I was a kid, my dear father subjected us to endless hours of golden oldies whenever we were in the car. And when the radio signal ran out, he had 50 cassette tapes ready to go with more oldies. And what really bothered me about this barrage of Ricky Nelson, Elvis Presley, and The Beach Boys wasn’t that I hated every song, it was that I didn’t get to choose.
See, we had a rule in our family that the driver got to pick the music and my dad was always the driver. And so what felt like for most of my childhood, I was forced to listen to this one genre of music. And so I suppose that’s why I was irritated when Bill said oldies. I was irritated because my friend wasn’t just asking to be polite, he was letting Bill pick the playlist that evening.
I was at this retreat with friends. There were five of us this year. In other years, there had been seven, but just five this year. And for almost a decade, we’d been getting together at a cabin on a lake in the woods once a year for a three-day retreat. The guys on this retreat are what you might expect from a group of friends that has chosen to get together once a year for almost a decade. We’re mostly the same age, mostly in the same life situation. We’ve had similar experiences and similar taste in music.
And after almost a decade, this was the first time we had invited a guest. Bill lives in the area. He’s a friend of my friend’s father, the one who owns the cabin we stay at. Bill’s wife of 60 years had died recently. Now he lives alone. He’s in his 80s, twice our age. He’s from a different era, a different time. So when my friend turned to him and asked him his favorite music, what was I expecting him to say? Electronic dance music?
For better or for worse, music is powerful. Your taste in music reflects your life experience. It shapes your experience. Your music speaks to you. It’s part of your personality. Martin Luther wrote this about music 500 years ago. “Next to the Word of God, music deserves the highest praise. She is mistress and governess of human emotions. For whether you wish to comfort the sad, to terrify the happy, to encourage the despairing, to humble the proud, or to appease those full of hate, what more effective means than music could you find.”
Scientific studies today have demonstrated that music can change your heartbeat, your breathing rate, and your blood pressure. It can heighten your brainwaves, electrify your skin, and dilate your pupils. Music moves us. But not everyone gets pumped up to the same jam. My soothing playlist might be your droning irritation or vice versa because we don’t always get to choose the music. And even when we didn’t choose it, it still moves us, for better or for worse.
A wise man famously described life in these terms, that life’s rhythms move us even though we didn’t choose them. Maybe you remember the words from the golden oldie recorded circa 1965 from the song, “Turn! Turn! Turn!” by The Byrds. “To everything, turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” Before it was an oldie, for 3,000 years it had been a poem in the Old Testament of the Bible, the book of Ecclesiastes 3. It’s a poem from a much longer speech, a speech traditionally attributed to wise King Solomon. And the point of the poem is well put in the title of that song. Life keeps coming, unceasing, sometimes irritatingly so in a series of turn, turn, turn. One activity is soon replaced by its opposite, starting and stopping, winning and losing, being born and dying.
There’s a rhythm to it. And we try to keep up, we try to keep time with life’s seasons, but sometimes the playlist is more than irritating, it’s relentless. It’s relentless because it doesn’t stop and you don’t get to choose the music. You didn’t choose when to be born, where to be born, to whom to be born. You didn’t choose this march toward aging and death any more than you can choose the weather, the sunset, or the cycles of the moon. You can respond to them; you can regret them, rebel against them, rage against them. But the world doesn’t move to your playlist.
Listen to how it goes in Ecclesiastes 3.
There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot what was planted, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to break down and a time to build up, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones together, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw it away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak up, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.
What does the worker gain from his toil? I have seen the business God has given the children of Adam to be busy with. God has made everything beautiful in its time. God has also set eternity in the hearts of humanity, but they cannot figure out what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be joyful and to do good while they live and that everyone should eat and drink and find good in his toil. This is the gift of God. I know that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nothing can be taken from it. God does it so that people would fear Him. Whatever is now has been before, whatever will be has been already. And God seeks what has been driven away.
I saw something else under the sun. In the place of justice, wickedness was there. In the place of righteousness, wickedness was there. And I said in my heart, God will bring into judgment both the righteous and the wicked, because he has appointed a time for every activity, a time for every work. I also said, As for the children of Adam, God is testing them so that they may see that they are like the animals. Because what happens to the children of Adam and what happens to the animals is the same. As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath. Man has no advantage over the animal. Everything is vanity. All go to the same place. All come from dust and to dust all return. That’s from the book of Ecclesiastes 3.
I don’t know about you, but I find these words some of the most puzzling, provocative, and irritating words in all the Bible. And if they provoke, puzzle, or irritate you, maybe you need the book of Ecclesiastes as much as I do. Over the next several weeks, we’re going to be doing that. We’re going to be listening to Ecclesiastes. It’s only 12 chapters long. You could read or listen to the whole thing in under an hour. It was spoken and written to be heard like this from start to finish all at once.
As I’ve listened to the book of Ecclesiastes, I’ve found that there is nothing quite like it. For example, in that last part we just heard from chapter 3 that God is testing us, testing you, testing me, testing all the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve, testing us so that we may see that we are like animals. Some people believe that human beings are like gods, that we get to make our own meaning, set our own playlist, march to the beat of our own drum, that we each get our own personalized, individualized playlist that goes on forever. Some people believe that we are like gods. Others believe that we are animals, that there is no God, no grand composer of some cosmic playlist. We are meaningless, robots in motion, swaying like marionettes in a symphony of destruction.
So, which is it? Are we gods or animals? For centuries, humanity has been swaying back and forth, wound up like a metronome oscillating between these two beliefs. We are gods. We are animals. The book of Ecclesiastes follows a different playlist. We are neither. Neither gods nor animals. We were created by God, created to become His adopted children, His daughters, His sons. But having tried to become like God, we drove God’s gifts away. We became like beasts, like predators and prey. And so now we die. We die like animals.
You and I, the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve, we were made for something more. The book of Ecclesiastes and the rest of the Bible tell us the truth, the truth about who we are and what our situation is. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, came to restore. He came to seek out what was driven away. Jesus came with a different playlist, one that provokes, puzzles, sometimes irritates us—at least initially. You and I, we cling to our preferences. Jesus surrendered to God. You and I, we grab for more control. Jesus emptied Himself to save us. You and I become irritated. Jesus became obedient, obedient to death, even death on a cross. And God raised Him from the dead and put all things in His capable hands, so you don’t have to play God anymore. You don’t have to make up your own meaning. You don’t have to justify your own playlist. You’re not a predator. You’re not prey. God is leading you with a different playlist. He’s not leading you like a pied piper leading rats to a river to die. God is leading you to die, to let your old, irritated self die in Baptism so that by faith Jesus lives in you. Jesus will return one day. He will raise the dead and restore the harmony of God’s good creation. And while we wait, He promises us, “You will grieve, but your grief will turn. It will turn to joy. … I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy” (John 16:20 and 22).
Picture Christ in us, God’s beloved child, God’s beloved children, moved by God’s music. Maybe you’ve seen children dancing at a wedding reception. A flower girl in her dress. The ring bearer in his tiny tuxedo. And they’re dancing. They’re dancing their hearts out, but they didn’t pick the playlist. They don’t even know the songs, but they know that they’re loved, and love turns to joy, and joy turns to the music.
I was irritated by Bill’s choice in music, but Bill was gracious to sit with us, even though we were only half his age. Toward the end of the night, I look over at Bill and my thoughts flashed 40 years into the future. I imagine myself in his place, having endured such loss, having seen so much turnover, having so many people I love taken away, yet still sitting with men half my age who think my music is outdated. What would that be like, I wonder. I look over at Bill. He’s got a drink in his hand. His cheeks are rosy. His eyes are gleaming. And the expression on his face is profound joy.
I ended up getting Bill’s phone number. I call him up a week later. I confessed to him that I was initially irritated by his taste in music. I try to explain how because my dad loves oldies so much that’s all we ever listened to when I was a kid and I got sick of it. But I asked him, “Why do you like oldies, Bill?”
“The memories,” he said.
Bill had grown up in Western South Dakota on a farm. He said, “We started working at 7 a.m. every morning and we didn’t stop until sundown. And then I was blessed to be able to go to college. And like the old show says, those were happy days for me.”
He got to see a new part of the country. He played basketball. He met his wife, Sue. He said, “I didn’t have any money. So I worked my way through college. As a janitor, we would scrub floors all night long, listening to golden oldies. I think back over these experiences. God wasn’t just getting me through. He was blessing me richly.
“Bill,” I ask, “What keeps you joyful when so much of your life is behind you?” He answered, “Life is hard. There’s no other way to slice it. But you get up, put your pants on, and get to work, and God will direct you.” He said, “I have to be careful from thinking too far out, even now, because it overwhelms me. But God has promised me eternal life. And I celebrate His presence with me now.”
Turns out that’s what’s on Bill’s playlist. What’s on yours?
Would you pray with me?
Dear Father, You have made and You will make all things beautiful in their time. Help us to cherish Your gifts, even in this mortal life. Help us to find joy in this day that You have made so that we may eat and drink and find good in all our toil through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, One God now and forever. Amen.
Reflections for June 19, 2022
Title: What’s on Your Playlist?
Mark Eischer: You’re listening to The Lutheran Hour. For FREE online resources, archived audio, our mobile app, and more, go to lutheranhour.org. And now let’s back to our Speaker, Dr. Michael Zeigler.
Mike Zeigler: Thank you, Mark. Today, I’m visiting with Dr. Dean Nadasdy, beloved pastor, preacher, professor, leader, author, and a welcome guest speaker on this program. Welcome back with us, Dean.
Dean Nadasdy: Thanks. Great to be with you.
Mike Zeigler: Dean, in your nearly 50 years of ordained service, you’ve been involved in many aspects of church life. And among your passions, I’ve learned that you love church choirs and that you even have authored some lyrics for choral music. What do you gauge to be the state of church choirs today?
Dean Nadasdy: Well, I guess I’d say it like this, that I have a concern for the future of choral music in our churches. As I got around quite a bit, visiting churches as an ecclesiastic supervisor, I saw churches struggling to muster choirs. I’m from Minnesota here in the southern half of Minnesota. We have a lot of rural churches that are struggling for survival. So they’re happy to have 20 people in worship, let alone to be talking about a choir of six or eight people.
Mike Zeigler: My home congregation is a little smaller and I’m a member of the choir and we’re about 8 to 10 strong, but we’re still able to pull it together. We’ve done it by letting children join. So my son, who is an eighth-grader sings with us. We have other children in middle school. What are some of the creative ways that you’ve seen congregations find opportunities to offer special music in their worship gathering?
Dean Nadasdy: You hit on it with this idea of getting creative with who’s in the choir. So you talked about an intergenerational choir, which is a great idea, I think. I think also some churches can think back to where they had 15, 20 people in the choir. Who were four guys who sang tenor or bass in that choir? Can you get a male quartet together to do some special music? It may not in the future be necessarily a choir choir, but it could be smaller ensembles of people. Or if you’re going to muster choir, why not muster a choir for just one Sunday, maybe Easter Sunday. A lot of churches did that in our area. The choir was raised for an Easter Sunday celebration. So rather than a commitment to make a year, September to May of rehearsals, and singing throughout the year, you’re getting ready for one performance, so to speak, one presentation of choral music.
Mike Zeigler: It’s part of our heritage. It’s part of our life together. And of course we sing together as a congregation, but there’s also this other element that we’ve been talking about of special music that perhaps some additional practice and preparation. Why do you think that’s still important for a worshiping community to strive for?
Dean Nadasdy: I think there’s something about giving time in worship for rest and simply receiving the Word in a different way than doing the hard work of listening to a sermon. I think there’s something about receiving the message of the Gospel in song and in music that nurtures the soul. I know there were times we often did an anthem in the churches I served, a choral anthem before I preached. And honestly there were times when that soul ministered to my soul, I had to sit there for a minute or two before I could get up and preach, because I was so touched by the message that came via music.
So the role of special music I think is to go for our hearts, with the message that’s there for the day. And the beauty of worship is that same message encapsulated and brought to us by a scriptural text comes to us in a variety of ways. And this is another way that one listens to and is ministered to by the Gospel. And it’s really—music is heart language more than anything else. You don’t have to work too hard to appreciate the message that comes via music or via a choir.
Mike Zeigler: I agree with that in most cases. I’m thinking of about maybe some exceptions when you don’t prefer the style of music that’s being offered in that moment. You might find yourself in a situation where the musical offering doesn’t fit your particular musical taste or preference. So how might we engage in dynamic listening to a special music offering, even if it isn’t my preferred style?
Dean Nadasdy: That’s a great question. I think part of this has to be that as we become more diverse in our congregations and diverse in terms of age and ethnic background, we should expect to hear music that’s strange to us. If we’re truly going to give everybody an opportunity to express their faith in their own musical language, so to speak. So I’ve often said, I may not like polka music, but if there’s somebody in our church that’s that what does it for them, I’m going to work hard at during that polka music in worship to listen to it and try to get something out of it. And why am I going to do that? I’m going to do that for us. So this is about our life together. This is how we’re going to be the body of Christ in this place together.
Mike Zeigler: Thank you for that encouragement. That makes me want to continue on in my choir at our little church.
Dean Nadasdy: Good. That’s great.
Mike Zeigler: And the experience of the choir too, is also very important, to be able to work and work hard at something. And even if it’s not a professional level sound, it sounds good to those who know that you’ve worked hard at it. It allows you to bring your gifts and your efforts to that worshiping body. And as you said, minister to them. So I also, I want to encourage you to keep at it or to join and it’s worth it.
Dean Nadasdy: Great.
Mike Zeigler: Thanks for joining us, Dean.
Dean Nadasdy: It’s been a joy. Thanks.
Music Selections for this program:
“A Mighty Fortress” arranged by Chris Bergmann. Used by permission.
“Rise, Shine, You People” From The Concordia Organist (© 2009 Concordia Publishing House)