Thoughts on Music, Revelation, and Liturgy: Part Two

How does music in worship offer revelation about God? Michael Joncas sorts out the relationship between kinds of music and their effect on worshippers, beginning with the scriptural references to music in the assembly. He refers here to two kinds of revelation: general (especially through reasoning) and special (given through the Holy Spirit).

There is biblical evidence for the use of music to induce states of altered consciousness (namely, the prophetic frenzy reported in 1 Samuel 10:5b–6, 10–11). Perhaps the experience of glossolalia both in biblical times and among charismatic Christians can be seen as an example of special revelation (though the latter does not have the authoritative status of the former). . . . 

 [I]n many cases sung biblical texts are more memorable than those silently read or simply pronounced. “This is likely due to activating and linking different areas of the brain when visual codes are interpreted as verbal information, when that verbal information is yoked to the breath control and muscular activity involved in speaking, and when spoken verbal information is yoked in turn to recognition and interpretation of pitches, volumes, rhythms and timbres.” (Oliver Sacks, Musicophilia [NY: Vintage, 2008)]. They seem to carry a deeper emotional impact. . . 

Joncas shows that music sung in worship echoes the proclamation, teaching, communion, service, and witness that finds expression in Christian worship as a whole.

. . . “Evangelical” music is the counterpart of the church’s kerygma (proclamation). Just as Jesus proclaimed the proximate coming of the reign of God and called for a response of metanoia (transformation of values) to this good news, the church proclaims that the good news of the reign of God is embodied in Jesus, with acceptance of his way of life and joining his community as the appropriate response (e.g., “He is Lord, He is Lord, He is risen from the dead and he is Lord”). Thus the proper venue. . . is any situation in which non-Christians may be open to the Christian message (radio, television, films, videos, coffeehouses, concerts, etc.). . .  

 Catechetical music is the counterpart of the church’s didache (teaching). Having heard and converted to the kerygma, Christians still have to think through what their beliefs and appropriate behavior might be in the light of faith and in the context of the culture and history in which they find themselves (e.g., “Jesus loves me, this I know. . . ”). Thus, the proper venue. . . might be explicitly educational occasions 

 Fellowship music is the counterpart of the church’s koinonia (communion). Belief in the kerygma and conversion to the gospel way of life lived out in a particular time and place draws Christians together under the impetus of the Holy Spirit (e.g., “They’ll know we are Christians by our love”). The proper venue. . . might be any situation in which Christians revel in each other’s presence (common meals, hymn sings, skits, etc.). 

 Healing music is the counterpart of the church’s diakonia (service). Thinking through the implications of the good news leads Christians to acts of charity toward their own members and the wider community (e.g., “Be Not Afraid”). The proper venue. . . would be situations engaging the brokenness of the world (hospital, hospice, nursing home, retreat centers, etc.). 

 Confrontation music is the counterpart of the church’s martyria (witness). Thinking through the implications of the good news leads Christians to work for justice and singing witness songs. . . (e.g., “We Shall Overcome”).
This way of thinking about the power and work of music may cause worship planners, leaders, and musicians to look kindly on including a host of “styles” of music in a congregation’s repertoire of songs. 

Jan Michael Joncas, perhaps best known for his composition “On Eagles’ Wings,” is an associate professor in theology at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Jan Michael Joncas, “’Ring Out, Ye Crystal Spheres?’: Thoughts on Music Revelation, and Liturgy,” Liturgy 31, no. 1 (2016), 34-41.

Thoughts on Music, Revelation, and Liturgy: Part One

“Embodied Listening” is the theme of the January 2016 issue of Liturgy. The impetus for this focus, as determined by The Liturgical Conference board, was to celebrate the relevance of God’s Word for worship fifty years after the appearance of Dei Verbum.

Joncas’s essay reminds us that we “hear” God’s Word not only in words but also in music. Here he sets up the categories which will inform his conclusions about the revelatory power of music in worship.

In broadest terms, Western Christians up to the so-called Enlightenment took for granted that God had revealed Godself to humanity. Their major debates were about how that revelation occurred, who received it, and what form(s) it took. In addition to these issues, post-Enlightenment Westerners struggle with the very possibility of revelation, however it is understood. Fundamentally, they want to demonstrate that it is possible for limited human beings to encounter God. They want to know how God, the Radically Other, might address human beings in a way that respects their limited capacity, that provides a genuine message from the divine order of existence, and that allows them to recognize this address as precisely divine. 

 The theological tradition from which I come tends to divide revelation into two great categories: general and special or particular. “General” revelation is knowledge of God that a human being can achieve by use of reason. Traditionally, Roman Catholics have posited two areas in which general revelation takes place: reflecting on the world and reflecting on the human person. Reflection on our experience of movement, becoming, contingency, and the world’s order and beauty can lead us to some knowledge of God as origin and end of all that exists. Reflection on human beings’ longing for unconditional love, life, and happiness; openness to truth, goodness, and beauty; experience of freedom; recognition of the voice of conscience; and desires that cannot be fulfilled within this world-system can all lead us to some knowledge of a spiritual component to the human being, an immaterial soul that can only have its origin and resting-place in God. 

 “Special” or “particular” revelation consists of knowledge of God that a human being cannot achieve by reason, but by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Traditionally, Roman Catholics have acknowledged “particular” revelation in states of altered consciousness in chosen individuals, such as prophets; in miracles; in the history of God’s interaction with the human race, especially in the covenantal history of the Jewish people and the life of the church; in the scriptures attesting to the faith experiences of individuals and groups, both in Judaism and in Christianity; and most fully in the life, deeds, death, and destiny of Jesus of Nazareth, proclaimed the Christ of God. 

 . . . Perhaps the most important question is how to correlate God’s revelation with human beings’ responses,that is, can a report of altered consciousness, a deed of power, a historical event, a scriptural text be experienced as revelatory without an act of faith? Theologians have suggested many responses to these questions and they continue to generate conversation among believers and unbelievers alike. 

In the next selection from Joncas’s essay (on February 19), he will turn to the ways in which music serves as revelation. Here is a foretaste:

I said above that one of the modes of general revelation is to come to some knowledge of God by means of reason. I think an examination of music. . . can give us information about the world and thus information about the world’s Creator.

Jan Michael Joncas, perhaps best known for his composition “On Eagles’ Wings,” is an associate professor in theology at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Jan Michael Joncas, “’Ring Out, Ye Crystal Spheres?’: Thoughts on Music Revelation, and Liturgy,” Liturgy 31, no. 1 (2016), 34-41.

Introduction to “Embodied Listening”

On November 18, 1965, Pope Paul VI promulgated the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation, also known as Dei Verbum. This issue of Liturgy takes the fiftieth anniversary of Dei Verbum as an occasion to reflect on the relationship between liturgical worship and divine revelation.

In these pages, the reader will find essays that examine liturgical worship as a privileged location for experiencing divine revelation. Specifically, by highlighting the unity between the deeds of liturgy and the words of scripture, these essays will help the reader better attend to liturgical worship as an activity in which worshipers both embody and respond to God’s unending gift of divine friendship. . .

I argue that Dei Verbum offers Christians a way to understand liturgical worship as an act of embodied listening in response to God’s revelation. Through the lens of Dei Verbum’s theology, liturgical worship can be seen simultaneously as the visible speech of God and the communal listening of Christians. . . .

Karen B. Westerfield Tucker’s reflection on posture and gesture focuses on the intimate relationship between embodiment and scripture.

John F. Baldovin examines how the use of time in liturgical worship provides personal encounters with God’s past and future actions.

Teva Regule’s essay on iconography describes iconic encounters as moments in which Christians both see and are seen by God.

In his essay on liturgical music, Jan Michael Joncas emphasizes the fact that music can bear divine revelation into our hearts as a source of healing, education, fellowship, or confrontation.

Richard S. Vosko offers a meditation on how sacred space can be designed to foment a community’s encounter with God.

Finally, Matthew Sigler discusses the significance of how communities structure their liturgical worship. Specifically, Sigler highlights the risk that stems from too narrowly focusing on the sermon. . . .

The essays in this issue are meant to help the reader discover the various liturgical media through which they might experience the verbosity of God. It is easy to take for granted the space, time, music, gesture, art, and even the structures of our worship. However, by intentionally engaging these visible words of Divine Revelation, we learn to liturgically listen to the word of God so that we might be transformed by the fellowship God offers to us. While these essays are meant to be a path toward liturgical listening, they cannot be a substitute for it. It is my hope that this issue of Liturgy will encourage readers to engage God’s verbosity with their own bodies by daring to encounter God in diverse liturgical worship. 

by David Turnbloom, Guest Editor, Liturgy 31, no. 1 (Spring 2016).