Last night we went to a concert at an amphitheater at the Minnesota Zoo. Storms had raged through two hours before, and the concert was delayed to give the crew time to squeegee water off the rows of benches. As we stood in line to gain entrance a lion roared in the growing twilight. The Music in the Zoo series is one of our favorite venues, and the music last night by Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings as the moon rose over the ponds where swans and geese swim was like a dose of joy in audio form.

           

            I hear the crying of the hungry

            In the deserts where they’re wandering

            Hear them crying out for Heaven’s own

            Benevolence upon them

            I hear them all

            I hear them all

            I hear them all

            The set list last night included Rawlings performing “I Hear Them All,” a song he co-wrote and that was originally released by the Old Crow Medicine Show on their album, Big Iron World (2006). It fits nicely into the long tradition of folk/country songs that are shaped by the ancient cries of prophets who are unwilling to remain silent in the face of the brokenness of the world.

            I hear the sounds of tearing pages

            And the roar of burnin’ paper

            All the crimes and acquisitions

            Turned to air and ash, and vapor

            I hear them all

            I hear them all

            I hear them all

            I find the song deeply moving, a reminder that to cover my ears to the sound of suffering proves not only the poverty of my own soul but that I have hardened my heart to the call of my Lord. Still, I am glad the song is not true in the narrow literal sense of that term. I could not bear hearing them all.

            I hear the tender words from Zion

            I hear Noah’s water fall

            Hear the gentle Lamb of Judah

            Sleeping at the feet of Buddha

            And the prophets from Elijah

            To the old Paiute Wovoka

            Take their places at the table

            When they’re called

            I hear them all

            I hear them all

            I hear them all

            Both grace and wrath are evoked by the injustice that has made humankind act like a cancer upon the earth, and the memory of the sound of rushing water in the days of Noah is a hint of what is to come. It is not wise to be complacent, and a world in which it is imagined that justice will never

            I left the Zoo last night so glad I had been there. It began raining again as we drove home. Rawlings’ fine guitar work, Welch’s sensitive vocals, the lovely harmonies, and lyrics that made me think and imagine and wonder.

            I cannot hear them all, and that is a good thing. I am glad to serve One who can and does. But I do want to hear. May it be so.

            Both Keith Richards and Rodney Crowell have spent a lifetime in music, and both can look back on performing and recording legacies that have served to touch the imaginations of numerous fans. It’s true that Crowell has never achieved the fame of Richards and the Rolling Stones, but art is measured in reach as much as it is depth, and here Crowell has the edge. Both men know firsthand something of the devastation wrought by alcohol and drugs, and both can look back on relationships that were thrown away selfishly and of others that brought sweet rumors of grace.

            I read both books because I respect both men as musicians. I like the music of Crowell far more than that of Richards, but recognize that both men have honed their craft over many decades of dedicated practice, touring, and recording. Their styles are different, of course, very different, but both are part of the cultural world in which I grew up and still live. Both men are still active, making music and thus helping to both shape and reflect the culture in which I live and seek to understand.

            Yet, the books are very different. Keith Richard’s Life is massive and detailed, full of gossip and facts, reflections and anecdotes. Rodney Crowell’s Chinaberry Sidewalks is more modest, a childhood memoir of a home in a poor Texas community with an alcoholic, violent father and an unstable mother given to Pentecostal fervor. But there is a deeper and more vital difference as well. Richard’s reflections reek of self-satisfied self-centeredness, and seldom is grief or regret expressed over the excesses in which he indulged. Crowell’s story, in contrast, is imbued with a quiet honesty tinged with forgiveness, the thoughtfulness of a man who tells his story, warts and all, but does not think that all is fine simply because it is his story.

            I did not carefully read every word of Life, but scanned some sections because I was weary of the tone. When I finished Chinaberry Sidewalks, on the other hand, I purchased tickets to go see Crowell in concert—it was a wonderful evening. Recently Crowell has been collaborating with poet Mary Karr (I recommend the CD Kin, with Karr’s lyrics and Crowell’s music and performance), after being in Emmy Lou Harris’ band since 1975.

            One thing is certain: blatant excess does not necessarily mean an artist can not achieve excellence, and unless Richards has sources of which I am unaware, his memory is both remarkable and far better than mine. Those with a special interest in the Rolling Stones and their very long career at the top of the charts in popular music will want to read Life. Richards reflects on numerous concerts and recording sessions in the book in incredible detail.

            Listening to people’s stories is important if we want to hear something that gets past the surface details. Crowell uses the details of his childhood to tell a deeper story, while Richards amazes us with gossipy trivia in what seems to me to be primarily an ongoing exercise in self-aggrandizement. If you doubt that an artists’ deepest convictions and values—the world and life view that resides in their heart of hearts—shapes their music and their posture in life, read these two books, and then listen to some of Richards’ and Crowell’s music.

Life by Keith Richards with James Fox (New York, NY: Little, Brown and Company; 2010) 547 pages + index.

Chinaberry Sidewalks: a memoir by Rodney Crowell (New York, NY: Alfred Knopf; 2011) 259 pages.

Sometimes I think much of what we call civilized behavior is nothing more than socially accepted gestures that allow us from being considered impolite as we assiduously sidestep having to listen to one another. I referring here to really listening, to actually hearing another person—an act that is, as we all know, all too rare.

A friend of mine, Zack Eswine recently published a book that is a superb exploration of what it means to care and minister to people in a broken world. Sensing Jesus: Life and Ministry as a Human Being, as the title implies, never trails off into theory removed from the realities of ordinary, daily life. Though written by a pastor for church leaders, because it is rooted explicitly in the life and teaching of Jesus, it sheds light on what it means for ordinary people to intentionally walk through life caring for others in the ways that matters

Including learning to hear.

            A story is told about a naturalist and his friend walking amid the frenzy of a New York City sidewalk. The naturalist suddenly stops as if he is listening for something. “Do you hear that cricket?” he asks his bewildered friend. “How can you hear a cricket with all of this noise?” the friend replies. “We hear what we are trained to hear,” the naturalist replied. Then he pulled a quarter out of his pocket and dropped it upon the sidewalk. Immediately a handful of passersby stopped and looked down.

            While this story is fable-like, there is truth to recognize in the notion that “we hear what we are trained to hear.” Jesus knows this. The widow among the rich [in the Temple] puts in her two small coins. It is hard to hear her two coins amid the jingle and clink of the wealthy. Theirs drown out hers. Their voices fill our ears. Her tiny devotion, small, unnoticed, underestimated— it calls out and says among all the importance, “Look around. Listen. God is here.” Jesus recovers the sound of the widow and her coins, and the disciples learn to hear again (Luke 21:1-4).

            According to Jesus, there are two kinds of hearing. This is what Jesus means when he says, “If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear” (Mark 4:23). Jesus calls us beyond recognizing sounds to obeying or responding or discerning the meaning of the sounds.

            To hear with the ear only is to recognize.

            To hear with understanding is to discern.

            To hear with the ear requires only that one's eardrums work.

            To hear so as to understand requires that one's soul remain attentive and receptive to the goings on in another.

            To hear with the ear one need only nod the head and shuffle the voice into “mhm” and “uh-huh.”

            To hear truly, however, one must ready herself to experience the life of another, and from that experience, to understand that other.

            To hear with the ear only is to categorize, explain, and move on.

            To truly hear is to name the nuance, to understand the meanings, to separate out what is consistent from what is not, and to let what is mysterious or confounding remain for another day.

            To hear with the ear only is to quote the Bible.

            To hear truly is to bend one's life toward the meaning of the quote in Jesus and by his grace. (pp. 194-195)

Learning to hear might be one of the most difficult tasks imaginable in our postmodern world.

And if I may call all extroverts, too, my recommendation is that you watch this video, a 2012 TED talk by Susan Cain author of Quiet, that is both informative and delightful. It sheds clarity on an aspect of God’s good creation that we rarely consider with much care, and it provides some crucial understanding to help us fulfill our calling to treat every person as if we really believe they are made in his image.

Then read this New York Times essay, “An Introvert Steps Out,” where the speaker in the video, author Susan Cain describes how she prepared, as an introvert, to give her remarkable TED talk.

It is not an exaggeration to say that though as a Christian I am aware of the riches of wisdom found in the Scriptures, I am not fully aware of how rich those riches actually are. I tend to be slow to learn and most of the time when I read an ancient text I think of what I’ve already learned from it instead of patiently, unhurriedly observing the text with care to see what it says. Such careful reading requires waiting in silence, a posture that does not come to me naturally.

I know, for example, that the Scriptures bless music as a good gift of God. The longest single book in the Old Testament, after all, is the Psalms, nature itself is said to sing in delight (Isaiah 55:12; Psalms 98:7-8), and even God the Almighty the prophet Zephaniah records, will burst into song at the consummation of all things.

The Lord, your God, is in your midst,

            a warrior who gives victory;

            he will rejoice over you with

               gladness,

            he will renew you in his love;

            he will exult over you with loud 

               singing

            as on a day of festival. (3:17-18)

Don’t you wonder what that will be like?

In 1986 jazz pianist and theologian William Edgar wrote a little book that helped me see music in the pages of Scripture in a fresh and much fuller way. His eye as a musician observed examples of music in the text that I had not noticed, in the sort of detail I had not seen. Edgar’s book, Taking Note of Music (London, SPCK) is I believe now, sadly, out of print but if you can find a used copy, buy it.

Here is Dr. Edgar’s list of the types of music he observes in the pages of Scripture, complete with references so you can see the specific texts yourself.

“The following sample of song species from the Bible,” Edgar writes, “shows both the extensiveness of musical function and the Godward commitment of the various forms.

       Work songs (Numbers 21:17-18; Isaiah 16:10; 27:2; Jeremiah 25:30; 48:33; Hosea 2:17; Zechariah 4:7)

       Music connected with war, marching, and victory (Numbers 21:27-30; Psalm 68; 2 Chronicles 20:21; Numbers 10:35-36; Ex 15:20; Judges 5:1; 1 Samuel 21:12; Psalm 24:7-10)

       Songs for instruction, prophesy and mutual edification (Deuteronomy 3:19; 1 Kings 4:32; 2 Kings 3:15; 1 Chronicles 25:1-3; Colossians 3:16)

       Love songs, wedding music, songs of seduction (Psalm 45; Song of Songs 2:12; Ezekiel 33:32; Isaiah 5:1; Genesis 31:27; Jeremiah 25:10; 33:11; Isaiah 23:15-16)

       Entertainment (Job 21:12; Isaiah 24:9; 2 Samuel 19:35; Lamentations 5:14; Daniel 6:18; Amos 6:5)

       Music with dance (Exodus15:20; 32:18-19; 1 Samuel 18:6-7; 21:12; 29:5; Psalm 30:11-12; 68:25; 87:7; Matthew 11:17)

       Songs of derision (Job 30:9; Lamentations 3:14, 63; Isaiah 14:4)

       Mourning and lamentation (2 Samuel 1:18-27; 1 Kings 13:30; 2 Chronicles 35:25; Psalm 69:12; Job 30:31; Ecclesiastes 12:5; Jeremiah 9:16-17; 22:18; Ezekiel 27:30-32)

A close examination of any of these references,” Edgars adds, “will reveal that in no case is the use of music neutral. It is religiously conditioned, either in covenant obedience or rebellion” [pp. 48-49].

It’s worth taking the time to look all these texts up and considering them with care. Think of the exercise as not just a study of music in Scripture but of sharpening our powers of observation. Then sit down and enjoy some music, unhurriedly and without doing anything else except listening.