Three, Two, One . . .

Well, it's almost time to go off the clock. June 1 is the beginning of a three month break from pastoral work. 

What does that mean? No new sermons to prepare and preach, no committee meetings, no hospital visits, no office hours, no drop-in guests, no phone calls to return, no emergencies, no classes to prepare and teach, no squabbles to moderate, no tragedies to be strong for, no new members or church leaders to train, no prayers to write for worship bulletins, no Bible commentaries to study. More to the immediate point: no pandemic decisions to make.  

No wonder I'm weary!

Today was a good departure. I kept the details to a minimum, and the church joined me in a litany of blessing. I feel commissioned to practice some self-care, to rest, to pursue my vision of how to make the most of the time, and to find my way to flourishing.  For those are interested, here is today's summary of the sabbatical and the farewell litany. 

Departures are bittersweet. In addition to hearing the kind wishes of our church family, we bid goodbye to Brent and Karen, two dear souls who will move this week to Colorado. It was hard to say farewell, even after sharing a leisurely brunch together. After fifteen months of pandemic disruptions and separations, I am reminded how precious friendships really are. And I'm certain we will see these two friends again, probably in the shadow of the Rockies.

Today has been a rainy, cold day. It was a good day to apply the brakes and begin to slow down. Much of the afternoon was spent puttering in my basement hideaway (affectionately called Presbybop Music World Headquarters). Three old jazz LP's were digitized and directories of some computer files were reorganized. Nothing pressing. For the next few days, I'll be floating.  And breathing deeply.

Countdown to the summer

 After deferring the sabbatical for a year, I am ready to jump in! This has been a long year, and I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to breathe, rest, reflect, and recharge from June 1 through the end of August.

And there is this book that I've wanted to write, the accumulation of thirty-some years of finding connections between jazz and the spiritual life. It's time to get words on the page.

Thanks for reading this blog and joining me on the journey. I have started posting some unrelated fragments here, mostly to keep track of them. There is plenty more to share. 

In the meantime, I will use this simple blog as an online diary of what I'm thinking, what I'm discovering, where I'm going, and what I'm doing. Don't expect much of a travelogue, as in previous sabbaticals. There are some undisclosed locations where I will be parking with my computer and tapping out words.

But in jazz, as in so much of life, the journey may be more interesting that the destination. I'm glad you are here!

Praying through the saxophone

Years ago, we invited a music scholar to address a group of jazz fans. To our astonishment, he revealed an insight that is now widely known. Here it is, in video form:

An icon for heaven and earth?

One of the many things that I hope to explore is the connection between listening (to jazz) and spiritual experience. It's not an automatic connection, yet music can be the conduit for the Holy Spirit to speak.

That was what happened to Franzo and Marina King, a young couple who celebrated their anniversary by going to a night club to hear John Coltrane. It was an electrifying evening that changed their lives forever.

Reflecting on the experience, they realized how powerful it can be to listen to music in the company of friends. So they created The Church of John Coltrane in San Francisco, now in its 50th year. Check out the church's website here.  It's the only church I know that has been named after a jazz musician.

Shortly before he died, Trane said to an interviewer, "I would like to become a saint." The San Francisco congregation has named him one.

It is a curious, intriguing decision for a congregation to make - and something that I will write about.

Meanwhile, the New Yorker has just published a photo article about the church's 50th anniversary. Give it a look by clicking here.

To view a 28 minute documentary about the Church of St. John Coltrane, click here.

A short introduction of the project

This project will shape a sabbatical from my "day job" as pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Clarks Summit, PA.  I've been there a good, long while, and will take a break during the summer of 2021 to work on the project. The Louisville Institute is blessing me with a research grant to develop and write. Here is the brief introduction for the project:

I have a hunch that the Holy Spirit plays jazz trombone. After thirty years of creating jazz for the church, I’ve noticed how syncopated music thaws frozen hearts, unites fractured communities, and invites dead bones to dance. As a working pastor, I have discovered from both pulpit and piano bench how this musical art form can renew Christian faith, spark creativity, open us to the life-giving work of God, and engage us in a life of justice.

I intend to create a coherent and substantive book that explores the deep connections between jazz and the spiritual life. The research plan is to dive deeply into musicians’ archives, interview working musicians and sensitive theologians, read extensively, and visit sites where music is in the air and communities are being renewed. The project will build upon years of study and research, lecturing and teaching, recording and performing, all in service to the church.

It is a critically important time to explore the connections between jazz and the life of the Spirit. Congregations are withering from cultural frostbite. American life bears the unhealed wounds of racial injustice. Hope seems tenuous. Yet jazz is rigorously alive. I want to name this vitality as a sign of God’s ongoing Pentecost and explicate some ways that the soul of church and culture can be empowered and renewed through theological reflection on the living tradition of jazz.

Welcome!

Welcome to this ongoing exploration of the music of jazz and the life of the Spirit! It will be the platform for sharing discoveries and connections, as I develop a project called, "Thriving on a Riff: Jazz and the Spiritual Life."

The title is intriguing, but not completely original. "Thriving on a Riff" is the alternate title for a tune by Charlie Parker, otherwise called "Anthropology." You can listen to it by clicking here. It's one of many new melodies that Parker and his colleagues invented on the chord changes of "I've Got Rhythm." In the original recording, the melody doesn't appear until thirty seconds before the conclusion.

What would it mean to thrive on a riff? Seems nonsensical to the non-musician. A "riff" is a musical phrase, often repeated, usually brief, and frequently the basis of a creating a melody. The old swing tune "In the Mood" is a perfect example of a riff, repeated and adjusted numerous times to create a danceable melody for a blues in the key of Ab.

Yet to thrive - not merely live or survive, but to thrive - seems to me to be the aim of human life. What I hope to explore is how music, particularly improvised music, can teach us about thriving.

Feel free to join the conversation. You can follow the posts by entering (and confirming) your email address in the window on the left. I hope you will.

Until next time,
Bill Carter