Epiphany 3

Today’s service includes a lot of music by Felix Mendelssohn. I hope you love his music as much as I do. He only lived for 38 years. What a shame that he didn’t live longer! Today, you’ll hear one of his most famous compositions, a movement from his oratorio, St. Paul, Op. 36. This piece was written between 1834-36, when he was just around 21 years old. What a remarkable thing, that we hold such esteem for the creative output of a 21-year-old who lived two hundred years ago!

What I love about this piece is how the meaning of the words is delivered to us. Mendelssohn showcases the power of peace. Yes, peaceful words have an immense power. Look at the amazing effectiveness of Mother Teresa, Nelson Mandela, or the Dalai Lama. Peaceful words have even more power behind them than hateful words do. Better yet, silence conquers all! Mendelssohn gets this idea very well by designing music that has a transparent and gentle lilting feeling that pulsates an undulation of truth – a natural kind of truth, like a babbling brook, or a gentle breeze. The music is not confrontational or fussy, it’s comforting, cooperative, and soothing. It has the nature of truth, embedded into its ethos, just like creation does, if only we could notice it.

The tongue can be so spiteful, if not intentionally monitored by a well-meaning person. Mendelssohn had to have understood this, creating a wonderful texture in the music, one that is airy, light, and buoyant, like the pulsations of a star, or the loving radiance of the sun. Those natural, grace-giving phenomena are like the music you are hearing today. It feels like a pastorale of sorts – healing and real. Nature is healing and peaceful. It’s gotten through all sorts of challenges in global history, and it seems to exist effortlessly with itself. Creation is doing just fine without hearing or speaking spiteful words. And that peaceful nature of truth resides in each of us.

Those who use words as weapons, infect the natural homeostasis of existence. Even Mendelssohn’s 21-year-old mind understood the glorious nature of using words to convey peace, not violence. I wish the 21-year-olds I teach were as wise. I wish I were as wise. Nonetheless, let’s be cleansed by such a message of hope, and notice it in today’s music. If your intention is laced in love, and comes from a place of peace, you’re being one of God’s messengers. If only we could remember this at each and every moment that we use words. Mendelssohn has reminded us of our duty to be messengers of peace. Let this be our way of life. Soli deo Gloria!