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“Thank God for Music Teachers”

The Reverend Canon Elizabeth Knowlton
Mikell Chapel 7:45 & 9:00 am
7th Sunday of Easter
John 17:20-26
May 20, 2007

This is the time of year that it is easy to reflect on how much we owe teachers.  As I’ve watched my children engaged in end of year performances, I have been drawn in particular to their teachers.  As I watched over one hundred elementary children perform in an opera, I was struck by how the teachers were the ones who had really made that possible.  It was a teacher at the piano simultaneously being the orchestra and director rolled into one that was the children’s lynchpin.  And there was a veritable army of teacher behind the scenes to make sure that the many costume and scene changes came off without a hitch.

Because I love music so much, I think music teachers have a particularly special place in my heart.  They take the time to share a precious gift with their students.  It is a gift they can enjoy the rest of their lives, whether they ever become professional musicians or not.  What is most impressive to me is that they do it when the children are first learning.  This takes a lot more patience than I think I would have.  I can see teaching children who have already learned to read music, or have at least some obvious natural talent.  But, this is not what most music teachers begin with.

The most amazing example of that for me this year has taken place at 7:45 am every Monday morning.  I have sat through my daughter’s Suzuki violin lessons.  It is a required component of her elementary program, so there is a group class that assembles with no experience at the beginning of the year that is actually playing by this time of year.

Now it is one thing to hear a beginning piano student hitting wrong notes or being out of rhythm.  It is a completely different thing to hear beginning string players.  You see, they don’t learn to tune the instruments right away.  In fact, they don’t learn to tune them for many, many months.  As I have listened to screeching sounds emanating throughout the house this year, I have prayed for ear plugs.  I have banished my daughter to the back of the house.  I have lamented the lack of instruction on this necessary skill of putting this instrument into some tuned state.  I was so desperate to assist in the tuning process; I managed to break a string on my daughter’s violin string early on in the year.  Needless to say, I didn’t try that again.

But, I never thought about the violin teacher.  Until, he played for the class one morning.  It was exquisite.  It was beautiful.  The man clearly has a gift.  And he has dedicated his life to teaching children to play the violin.  This man, who can make incredibly beautiful music, spends most of the hours of his day listening to screechy, out of tune instruments.  Why does he do this?  Is he hoping for a few good students of the course of a lifetime?  Is he convinced that by exposing these children he is having an influence in their life?  What has given him the dedication to spend his life in this work?

“I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, 21that they may all be one.”  These are Jesus’ words of prayer that we overhear today. He has been saying goodbye to those who are closest to him, and they are a fairly unfinished lot.  But despite the fact that the disciples are not fully formed, or even ready to let him go, Jesus realizes he’s going to depart.

Thursday we celebrated the Feast of the Ascension, so now we wait.  Jesus has gone away, but the flames of fire have not yet landed on our heads to guide us with the Holy Spirit.  We’ll celebrate that gift on Pentecost, but these last few days of Easter are really rather ambiguous.  What must have the disciples thought?  Did they go back to the fishing nets, hoping for another resurrection appearance?  Or are they just sitting in the room waiting for the enlightenment of the Holy Spirit to guide them?

It is an in between time.  And frankly this is where we spend most of our lives.  We have moments of death and moments of resurrection.  We have moments where we feel sure of what direction the spirit would have us go.  But, there is the rest of the time when we’re just not that sure.  We are still learning and listening for where God would have us go.  We have potential, but frankly we’re not much more accomplished at life without Jesus than a new violin student.  We may know how to hold the instrument.  We can recall how Jesus acted, but how do we take the next steps?  And who do we take them for?

I would argue that if we only take them for ourselves, we are missing the point of Jesus’ gift of love to us.  When he prays, he prays not only for his disciples that have been with him to date, he prays for all those who will come to believe.  He is praying for the future and asking God to support the future.  He has some future vision of what we can all be.  And that vision is unity.

We can if we reflect the love of God, move the universe toward a oneness that may seem impossible.  It is that vision of faith that can give us the strength we need to be the witnesses God would have us be in the world.  It does not mean we won’t make mistakes.  And it doesn’t mean we won’t hit some bad notes along the way.  But luckily for us, God is a lot more like a violin teacher than an angry parent.  God could certainly play better music than we can.  But God also somehow knows the joy of the music than can only come from a symphony of many different instruments.  It is made up of a lot of different parts and abilities, but it is one.  It is unified and united in the love that is given to us through Jesus.  The ascension allows the cycle to become complete.  We are free to become recipients of the love Jesus has prayed for each one of us.  And the people we will help to come to belief.

Amen

Comments? Contact Beth Knowlton at: BKnowlton@stphilipscathedral.org

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