A Swift Reply

On Shaping Loves and Irrigating Deserts

“How do you get someone to love Johann Sebastian Bach who would rather listen to Taylor Swift?” a music colleague recently asked me. The question was serious and not meant as a swipe at Swift. After thinking for a second, I posed questions back to her as a start to an answer. Here’s the gist of my response, as best as I can remember it:

What if you could listen to music that would reveal, in both its substance and form, more of the character of God? What if you could listen to music that would marry tune and text together in a glorious union that would, while not immediately graspable at the first or second hearing, still leave you wanting more? What if your mind was as much the target as your heart in understanding the music? What if more complex music, like a multitude of colors, allows for more diverse glorious combinations moving you along to a deeper understanding of music and art and the glory of God? Why would you not want to pursue that kind of music as much as was reasonably possible?

That’s what good music, particularly music from faithful artisans like Bach does. Bach was a craftsman of music who had a fundamentally different approach to what makes art glorious and meaningful.

Deeper Motives

Bach scholars and musicologists have had a great time unpacking the rich meaning nested under the surface of Bach’s compositional craft. They have found where he has made the sign of the cross with the music on the word “cross” (kreuz in German). They have seen where Bach signed his name within his works, (B♭-A-C-B♮because in the German, the B natural was referred to as “H”) using pitches in succession. They have seen how the entrances of the various voice parts make visual shapes on the printed page, further emphasizing the meaning of the work as a whole. They have seen how the string section makes an audible circular halo effect over the divine words of Jesus and not in the other recitatives in his cantata scoring. The audiences down through the ages might not all have caught on to what Bach was doing, but he did it “For the Glory of God Alone” (Soli Deo Gloria) as would be written “S.D.G.” on his printed scores. He wrote for a different audience—an audience of One. That Divine Audience has infinite abilities to understand the miniature magnificence of Bach’s works.

But we down in the simple seats would rather eat baby food when it comes to our palate for music. Why, when a glorious steak could be consumed at least some of the time? Part of the answer is that many people have not cultivated a taste for good music like they have not for a good steak or a nice glass of wine or a well-made cup of coffee. A can of soda or a hamburger is instantly accessible to them. Cultivation, on the other hand, is hard work, and no one has told them why they should care in the first place.

Weak Desires

This is where C.S. Lewis helpfully clarifies that our desires and loves are actually too weak. He writes,

“We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”¹

We are too easily pleased with the fast food of the music industry. We want to fill our bellies with a pounding beat and kitschy lyrics, an immediate experience for our bodily pleasure. Then we want to pretend that a constant diet of such things won’t affect us. Mud pies will work just fine, thanks. We don’t understand that what we consume in our music can indeed shape us for better or worse. We are too accustomed to this dim view of the world. We have to be willing to mature our loves and our understanding all the way around. We have to be willing to bring our likes and desires into submission to God and his Word.

Returning to music and the discussion of Bach and Taylor Swift that was presented to me. Again, Lewis has the proper perspective. In Abolition of Man, he writes, “The task of the modern educator is not to cut down jungles but to irrigate deserts.² A hasty reading of this article might cause the reader to assume that I want to get people to stop listening to Taylor Swift. I have no desire to cut her down. Instead, I would rather spend my time and energy in giving more people the ability to understand and appreciate the music of people like Bach. My “day job” is focused on just that—giving people music literacy so that they can be faithful worshippers who enjoy the vast riches of music and song all their days. In advocating for more appreciation for the glory of a good steak, one does not have to be against eating a good burger, to extend the analogy. You could argue that the more you appreciate a good steak, the better the hamburger tastes when it’s time for one. Your senses of taste and smell have broadened, making all the nuances of flavor more alive in your mouth. The same can be said of higher, more complex forms of art music like that of Bach. The better you understand Bach, the more you are freed to enjoy the lesser things. You become increasingly engaged in whatever genre of music enters your ears. Your desires and loves become full-bodied instead of weak.

Why Bach?

The question is a good one. My answer has less to do with Bach specifically than it does with what he represents. A composer like Bach is not writing for surface-level enjoyment. He is crafting his music with multiple layers of meaning, pointing to the glories of our wonderful God in a beautiful tapestry of commonplace chords and cadences. He is engaging the mind as much as the heart in a balanced way. In contrast to contemporary Christian approaches to art, his music conceals the message rather than slapping you in the face with it. The meaning of Bach’s music is not a moral reductionistic aphorism spelled out explicitly in words but rather a veiled multitude of meanings meant to be visited again and again to glean more from it, much like the parables of Jesus or an excellent poem where new discoveries are made as the reader returns.

This is because the starting point of Bach’s art is an attempt to mirror the narrative and theologically rich style of the Scriptures. He was so steeped in the Bible that the layers of meaning poured naturally into his compositions. There is such glory hidden there that it has taken and continues to take, to allude to Proverbs 25, many kings to search it out. We don’t ultimately like Bach simply because he was a Christian and wrote sacred music, but because he mastered both his craft and his Christian duty to know God’s Word, and united the two in his music.

Conclusion

Again, why would you not want to understand more of the character of God by gleaning through the music of Bach and others? Why would you not seek to mature out of weak loves that keep you from wanting what is better and best when it comes to music? I’ve never heard someone say, I wish I hadn’t developed a taste for a good steak or cup of coffee. The work of cultivating in these things is always worth the effort because moving from glory to glory makes you more thankful and aware of the goodness of God’s creation in its many manifestations.

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Also check out this previous article below:

1. Lewis, C. S.. The Weight of Glory. United States: HarperCollins, 2001, 26.

2. Lewis, C. S.. The Abolition of Man. United States: HarperCollins, 2009, 9.