Thoughts on Music

I've thought a lot about music at various times. For example, how much does what we listen to affect us? Does the type of music affect us? Are some types of music (apart from lyrics) better than others (morally, aesthetically, technically, etc.)

Recently (well, fairly recently...it was before school ended, but I haven't really had time to blog on it since) I had another thought.

Actually, I was talking to one of my students about the music I was playing at the time (Russell Watson, I believe.) He said he'd like to be able to sing like that if he couldn't be a rock star (or rap artist?)...or something sort of along those lines. It was a while ago. To make a short story shorter we started to compare the beauty of the semi-classical music we were listening to to the beauty of rap. As a disclaimer, I've never claimed to be a fan of rap. Sometimes I can stand some of it. But this student does like rap, and I got him to agree that rap really cannot be considered beautiful. Fun, cool, sweet perhaps...but not generally what comes to mind when you think of beauty.

Perhaps others would disagree (and some rap songs may be exceptions to the "rule"), and if so I'd like to hear their arguments. At any rate, the conversation started me thinking. At Petra we emphasize the importance of truth and beauty and their connectedness. Now, I haven't drawn any hard conclusions, but I do wonder. If some types of music have less beauty than others, does that mean they also have less truth? Or perhaps reflect the true form of music less truly?

Just some thoughts/questions. Comments are welcome. ;)

And for the fun of it, here's a beautiful picture from here at camp. :)

Update

It's been a really long time since I've posted a blog here. I have, of course, written blogs. I have just failed to post them, for a variety of reasons. The last few weeks have been exhausting and rather emotional, so I'm not sure that my thoughts from that time period are appropriate for the world to read. Just to give an idea of everything I've done....

I went to a Sr/Jr breakfast.
I went to an inter-house party.
I helped organize the last house competition and had my house win the cup again.
I wrote and graded six finals (six different classes, that is).
I went to two graduations.
I hung out with family here for my sister's graduation.
I turned in final grades.
I said good-bye to my students of five years (though hopefully I'll see them again.)
I packed and moved out of my classroom at school and my house.
I placed and received two orders with Sysco for camp.
I moved into my cabin at camp...well...sort of. I have sheets on my bed!
I started training three gals how to cook in mass quantities.
I fed 50 people three meals a day for about 4 days.
I played Ultimate Frisbee and helped with a Highway Clean-up.
I helped clean two large convection ovens.
I got new Chacos!
I made hundreds (thousands?) of cookies, at home and at camp.
I have tried desperately to finish and order the yearbook.
I became re-acquainted with old friends and met new ones.
I gave hundreds of hugs.
I planned menus for two weeks.
I attended about 5 staff meetings without learning anything new.
I played a crazy game of ping-pong and laughed until my abs ached.
I slept way less than I should.
I cried numerous times for various reasons.
I laughed even more numerous times.
I bought material to make more aprons for more people.
I organized two walk-in freezers, a walk-in cooler, and two dry storage areas.

Yup, that's a bit of my life for the past month or so. Quite a ride! I'm hoping it will be a wee bit and at that time perhaps I'll catch up on my blogging. If I can remember my ideas that long... :)

In Honor of studying Mollusks in Biology:

The Chambered Nautilus

by Oliver Wendell Holmes

This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main,--
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
And every chambered cell,
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
Before thee lies revealed,--
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!

Year after year beheld the silent toil
That spread his lustrous coil;
Still, as the spiral grew,
He left the past year's dwelling for the new,
Stole with soft step its shining archway through,
Built up its idle door,
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea,
Cast from her lap, forlorn!
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn;
While on mine ear it rings,
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:--

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!

*Not only is the nautilus shell formed by a living creature (Biology), it also contains some amazing math!

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Eternity in their hearts

Happy May Day and Rabbits and all that jazz. :)

I started (re)reading Eternity in Their Hearts by Don Richardson the other day. It's really interesting, if possibly questionable in its theology and reasoning at times. For those who haven't read it, he basically presents the idea (with supporting data from various people groups) that a large proportion of the peoples in the world believe in a creator-god from whom they've been separated. There are all sorts of stories and traditions in these various tribes which relate closely to the truth we know in scripture. It makes one wonder...

He seems to imply that all these stories and traditions come from general revelation. This is probably true for some, but others....I'm not so sure. For example:

1. He lists a lot of tribes who believed that the creator-god had written down his law on something, but through their own negligence they lost it. Most of them believed that this lost book would be restored to them by a white man someday. I dare say this much is true. My question is, if they had no contact with anyone Jewish or Christian since (presumably) the tower of Babel, how would they even know of the existence of such a book? The Bible (except maybe Job?) wasn't written until much later. It makes me wonder if perhaps they had some sort of contact with Jewish people during the Old Testament period? It's possible for God to have planted the idea of the existence of such a book without even their ancestors having seen it, but I don't really see how the belief in the existence of this book follows directly from general revelation without either knowledge of an actual book or God's intervention.

2. One tribe had a tradition where once a year they would take two chickens. They would kill one and sprinkle its blood along a river bank. The other they would tie at one end of a small boat with a lantern on the other end. Then all the members of the tribe would take turns laying their "sin" on the boat. They would then release the boat and hope that it made it down stream and far away from them without getting stuck or capsizing. This is very reminiscent of the Jewish practice of having a scape goat every year on Yom Kippur. How would they think of instituting such a practice unless they had somehow become familiar with the Jewish practice? Again, it's possible, but I have a hard time believe that its probable.

At any rate, do we really know how far Judaism or even Christianity spread? During the Babylonian captivity, for example, we know that empire spread over a large region, and we know that Daniel was a high official. Who knows how far his influence extended? Maybe an echo of the truth even reaches these distant tribes.

Well, it is food for thought. And, where ever these stories and traditions come from, they certainly can make it much easier for missionaries to share the truth.

He also mentions an Inca ruler who is given credit for writing hymns to this creator-god. I was curious and tried to find these hymns online. Here's one I found:

Oh Creator, root of all,
Wiracocha, end of all,
Lord in shining garments
who infuses life and sets all things in order,
saying, "Let there be man! Let there be woman!"
Molder, maker,
to all things you have given life:
watch over them,
keep them living prosperously, fortunately
in safety and peace.
Where are you?
Outside? Inside?
Above this world in the clouds?
Below this world in the shades?
Hear me!
Answer me!
Take my words to your heart!
For ages without end
let me live,
grasp me in your arms,
hold me in your hands,
receive this offering
wherever you are, my Lord,
my Wiracocha.

One of those days

You ever have one of those days when people are just really nice to you? Maybe you get an unexpected compliment or someone randomly helps you out or offers kind words. Well, I had one of those days today. It was nice. :)

Tears

There are lots of things that can occasionally make me cry, mostly depending on the day, how much sleep I had the previous night, and other circumstances like that. However, there are very few things that I can think of that almost always cause me to tear up, and I think that most of those things fit into two categories:

1. Heaven/Eternity
I don't think that I've had any one really close to me die, so at the funerals I've gone to, I find that I am only partly weeping because of how that person will be missed. More, though, at least at the funerals of Christians, I weep for the joy of the hope of seeing them again, for the joy they have right now in the presence of the Lord, and for the example their lives have been. It may seem backwards, but I think the reason that I am weeping in light of all that joy is that there is still sorrow mixed in. There is good to come, but this is not the way its supposed to be right now. Then, when I think of how all will be made right, the sorrow and joy just overflow into tears.
Here are some other things in this vein that generally make me cry:
-The Last Battle by C. S. Lewis. Again, ironically, the battle doesn't really make me cry. It's what's beyond the door of the stable that gets me.
-Some songs about heaven.
-Various missionary stories or stories of martyrs such as Through Gates of Splendor by Elisabeth Elliot. Yeah, even thinking about the title of that one makes my eyes mist a little.

Which brings me to the second category of things that make me cry (they overlap a bit).

2. Missions (especially if children are involved)
Every year my church has a missions conference, and every year during that time we have the flag ceremony where various people carry the flags of the countries they represent. It's hard to explain why its so moving, but it is. I think it's partly the thought of the completion of all things (see reason #1) -- the thought of every tribe, tongue, and nation singing together to the glory of God. Add to that thought the visual representation of all these people of different nationalities carrying their flags and the sound of the whole church singing and praising God. It's like a little taste of heaven. Which is perhaps why it makes me cry.
Again, other related things that bring tears to my eyes:
-It's corny, but the Operation Christmas Child videos make me cry.
-Missions songs, especially when accompanied by pictures, especially when the pictures are of children.

Perhaps the emotion here is more poignant because the tears shed for these reasons are less selfish than those shed when I'm upset for myself?

I suppose in reality these two groups could be put into one. For both I feel a sorrow that the world is not as it should be, but for both I also feel a hope that this is not the way things will always be. It's like a minor chord which is achingly beautiful (and makes you glad because of it's beauty), but equally sorrowful. Somehow it reminds you that the curse is still in effect but it will not always be so.

This last Sunday night we had a concert with a bunch of songs about heaven, and that's what started me on this topic. I think I am expressing myself badly, but I wanted to at least write it out and perhaps someday I'll be able to explain my thoughts in this area better.