That We All May Be One

Jesus, Peter, James, and John were enjoying a cool, clear Sabbath day with a time of silence, rest, and reflection aided by a beautiful and expansive view of the lush, agricultural region of northern Palestine. The crops were nearly ready for the harvest from their rich soil and the land below the hills was alive with color. Peter had been drowsing under a tree and, as he opened his eyes, he saw the two brothers quite literally with their mouths open, staring past him toward the top of the hill.

There was Jesus standing in prayer and he seemed bathed in the brightest light Peter had ever seen! It was as though the brilliance of the noonday sun was being supplemented by a luminosity from within Jesus’ own person. So deep was his communion with his “Abba” in prayer that his very appearance was changed.

Never had Peter, James, and John experienced the holiness of their teacher as powerfully as in that moment. The memory of other such holy ones from their people’s history washed over them: Moses coming down for the second time from Mount Sinai with the ten words of the covenant and his face veiled for the skin shone because he had been talking with God; Elijah on Mount Horeb, like Jesus here, experiencing union with God not in the wind, earthquake, or fire but in the sound of a sheer and profound silence.

A cloud moved over the face of the sun but, for Peter, it was a cloud like the one which had covered Mount Sinai. And he experienced the same truth Jesus had at his baptism in the River Jordan –this is the child of God; listen to him. The moment passed as quickly as it had come, but Peter was unwilling to let it go:

“Rabbi, let’s stay and build our booths for the feast of tabernacles right here. Three of them –one for Moses, one for Elijah, and one for you. The law …the prophets …and their fulfillment –in you, the anointed one!” He was positively babbling with excitement, fear, and joy. Slowly, Jesus opened his eyes and lowered his hands. It seemed to take a moment for him to realize exactly where he was. Then, without a word, he started down the mountain. They clambered their way down the steep path in silence for a while until James and John could contain themselves no longer:

“Jesus, do you not know what we just experienced?” “Not exactly,” he smiled, “What?” They recounted what they had witnessed to him as best they could with all the similarities and differences each of them had experienced. And then, according to Peter, Jesus gave them a strange charge: “Do not tell anyone about this until after my death and the resurrection. ”

(From John Mark: a gospel novel by Christopher Epting…order at Amazon.com)

The last weekend of July each year in the “Quad Cities” (Davenport and Bettendorf, Iowa; Moline and Rock Island, Illinois) is Bix Weekend! This celebration consists of the Bix 7, a seven mile road race up and down a hilly route near the Mississippi River, and a Jazz Festival in honor of Bix Beiderbecke, the American jazz cornetist, pianist, and composer who was born in Davenport and died (of alcoholism) at the tender age of 29 in 1931.

There’s a lot of great jazz to listen to in various venues around the cities from night clubs to concert halls to the wonderful band shell in Le Claire Park on the river. A number of local churches, including Trinity Episcopal Cathedral, incorporate jazz music into their worship services on that Sunday. This year was no exception with music provided by the Edgar Crockett Jazz Ensemble.

As I listened to their jazz selections as introit, offertory and postlude (in addition to lively renditions of the hymns like “Just A Closer Walk with Thee” and “Down By the Riverside”) I thought once again how Christian spirituality can be compared to jazz. Most jazz musicians I know were classically trained before they ever launched into the improvisational world of jazz.

Because they have practiced with and mastered their instruments, understand music theory, chord changes and rhythm, they can improvise with polyrhythms, syncopation and swing notes and yet always end up “on the same page” bringing their selections to an integrated conclusion with everyone ending up in the right place at the right time.

Today, many people (and not only young people) claim to be “spiritual but not religious.” In other words, they believe in God, perhaps even angels, eternal life, and prayer but are not persuaded that the so-called “institutional church” is necessary and do not feel the need to be part of a worshiping community even though they may, or may not, engage in the classical spiritual disciples of daily prayer and Bible study and weekly Eucharist/worship.

I know lots of these folks. And I understand their frustrations with the church, their distrust of the impossibly-patriarchal and “outdated” Bible and creeds, and their boredom with what passes for worship in most of our churches today. My concern is that trying to be spiritual but not religious is sort of like trying to play jazz music without ever having learned the instrument in the first place or expecting to perform well without rehearsing with the band or practicing those damnable daily scales and chords.

Most Christian mystics (and mystics of other traditions would follow this pattern) remain grounded in the basics of Bible and Liturgy even while following the Spirit’s promptings to greater heights (or depths, depending on your metaphor) in prayer and meditation, theological sophistication and critical analysis of their faith.

“Religion” binds us together and grounds us in the  experience of those who have gone before us. “Spirituality” is the endless journey into God which often shapes us differently as individuals.

“Religion” may be seen as the deep root system of a tree. “Spirituality” may be seen as the rich and fruitful branches which can bend and sway in the wind precisely because they are grounded at the roots.

“Religion” is classical music. “Spirituality” is jazz!