I recently finished reading through Evening in the Palace of Reason (J.R. Gaines), a portrayal of an 18th-century encounter between Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, and Johann Sebastian Bach, the composer of the Baroque era. Apart from their individual greatness and their love for musical ingenuity, these men couldn’t have been farther apart.
Bach was a product of his theological upbringing. He believed that he was created to communicate the glory of God and that music was his divinely-suited means of doing so. In fact, he inscribed all his works with the acronym, S.D.G. (Soli Deo Gloria). He knew of very few other expressive mediums that could adequately convey celestial majesty.
Frederick, on the other hand, was a son of the Enlightenment. He was representative of an age ordered by cold logic and reason. There was no room for mystical sensibility in his world. All of nature’s supposed enigmas were easily decipherable by the categorically trustworthy lens of reason.
These conflicting ideologies made for differing musical tastes. As much as he considered himself a musician, Frederick was of the persuasion that music was only meant to entertain–to sound pleasing to the ears. Bach had higher goals in mind. As Gaines explains:
Bach’s Musical Offering leaves us, among other things, a compelling case for the following proposition: that a world without a sense of the transcendent and mysterious, a universe ultimately discoverable through reason alone, can only be a barren place; and that the music sounding forth from such a world might be very pretty, but it can never be beautiful.
There is an analogy to be drawn here for students of the theological enterprise (i.e., Christians). When we engage in theology, we examine Scripture and analyze its propositions. We classify our biblical observations into defined categories and attempt to draw discernible lines of continuity through comprehensive examination of God’s Word. And we ought to. God gave us the Scriptures to disclose truth about Himself and to illuminate our minds to a greater understanding of the universe and our place within it.
But there’s an important lesson to be learned from Bach. Bach was hardly a slouch rationally. His prolific compositions of the contrapuntal technique (think the musical equivalent of quantum-physics) demonstrated his unprecedented logical genius. But through it all, he knew he could never fully capture God’s transcendent glory.
Christian believers today are as much products of our culture as Bach and Frederick were of theirs. Today is an age where empirical observation and the scientific method reign. We naturally apply those same scientific methodologies to Scripture in our attempts to make sense of God. Just a cursory glance at commentaries and dogmatic volumes alone yields amazing proof to how far our God-given intellectual capacities have taken us in the realms of biblical and systematic theology. But the sheer utility of our rationality can breed a baseless confidence in reason. If we’re not careful, we will cease from struggling to articulate the nature and beauty of God, and capitulate to an unhealthy scholasticism. We will ignore that there always be mystery involved in our study of God and attempt to force God through our unbending paradigms of reason and logic.
The Reformers traditionally talked about the clear distinction between Creator and creation. And theologians today speak of the doctrine of God’s incomprehensibility: Though God can be understood in part, He will never be understood exhaustively. Knowing our natural limits places appropriate parameters in our theological endeavors. And as Christians, we would be well-served to remember the example of Bach: there is beauty in mystery.
Can you find out the deep things of God? Can you find out the limit of the Almighty? It is higher than heaven—what can you do? Deeper than Sheol—what can you know? Its measure is longer than the earth and broader than the sea. (Job 11:7-9)
Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure. (Psalm 147:5)
As far as the Gaines book is concerned, it reads a bit like pop-history, which is not a demeaning description of its literary worthiness. It’s only my way of saying that the writer makes history stimulating and interesting to read. I wholeheartedly recommend the book for those who love music and for anyone else intrigued by the book’s premise.
A silly but hopefully, practically helpful post.
Music used to be as much of a delight to obtain as to listen. Buying an actual disc (or tape, depending on your era) came with the accompanying cover art, a liner with lyrics, and necessitated a physical space for your musical library. It also required thoughtful deliberation: Is this a worthwhile investment to make? Can I justify purchasing an entire album for only a few songs that I will actually listen to? Etc.
Now with the digital age, mp3s are just a click away. But with the added ease of acquiring the latest tracks and records from various musicians has also come the proliferation of piracy and dishonest distribution.
I still find myself easily facing the temptation to “sample” tracks by downloading them off a file-sharing app. I remember the first time mp3s were available for download, I’d go for them one at a time and it still required some effort, thoughtfully appraising which songs would be worth the precious limitations of bandwidth available from my dial-up modem. Now it’s way too easy. Within minutes, you can have entire albums in storage on your hard-drive. On a side note, there’s got to be some correspondence between music piracy and the ridiculously large hard-drive capacities available on new computers these days.
Anyways, my point in writing is to echo a principle that’s been said a million times before but figuring that more than half of my regular readership (consisting of a total of about 8 people, including my sister and my wife) are collegians, who love music, who have the bandwidth, and whose lack of a discretionary income that once was a stipulation in owning music makes them more susceptible to piracy: BUY MUSIC.
Sure, you can embrace the anonymity of the internet in feeding your auditory desires but what else does that cloak of privacy lead you to through your laptop portal? Moreover, purchasing music is a financially-concrete way of showing gratitude to musicians that use their creativity to produce the kind of stuff you enjoy listening to. Expressing thankfulness is a good habit to get into, socially speaking. Side note #2: Is there any correlation between our generation’s chronic failure to express thanks for simple gestures of kindness (e.g., cooking/purchasing a meal for someone, giving them a ride, writing them an email) and the current convenience of effortlessly acquiring a daily staple like music that you didn’t work for? That can be the subject of another social commentary.
Generally speaking, making a financial investment towards something tends to heighten one’s level of appreciation for it. And clearly, purchasing music (as opposed to its more dubious, but culturally acceptable alternatives) is in greatest consistency to our Christian identity. E.g., Ephesians 4:28
Finally, the act of purchasing music naturally produces the prudence and responsibility required of all disciples of Christ: Does the lyrical content rob my affections for Jesus? Does this demonstrate wise financial stewardship? As Jack Johnson wistfully muses, “On and on it goes…”
So the lesson of the day (brought to you by the letter M and the number 4) is stop ripping off records.
Okay, I’ll step down now. People are beginning to stare.
“Every day will bless You and praise Your Name, and on Your glorious splendor we will dwell, on Your wondrous works Lord, we’ll meditate, of Your awesome power we will tell, speak of Your salvation, Your abundant goodness–
“Every generation shall sing Your Word, magnify Your mercy and Your grace, sing about the Savior who came to earth, to bear the sins of those He came to save, You fill our hearts with wonder, we’ll worship You forever–
“You are greater than we can imagine, You are too beautiful, merciful, wonderful for us to fathom, O You are great, and greatly to be praised!”
[Sovereign Grace]
