The title of this morning's brief homily is taken from a quote from the 18th century German writer, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Commenting on the organ music of Johann Sebastian Bach, in which we will revel next Sunday, Goethe observed: "It is as though eternal harmony were conversing with itself, as it may have happened in God's bosom before he created the world."

We are created in the image of a God whose heart and soul contain the eternal harmony of awe and salvation, of despair and hope, of death and resurrection. All of life as we experience it, all of life that is beyond our comprehending, the whole of God's great love story exists in eternal harmony in the bosom of God.

From the beginning, we are formed as creatures whose praise is music. We are wired for music from the beginning, so to speak. So whether we are virtuosos or only sound great alone, in the shower, tone deaf as we say . . . it matters not at all - young, old, in between. It's true for all of us. Deep in our hearts, at the center of our souls, there is music, and that music is the language and the expression of God.

Therefore, it is essential that true worship of God consist in large measure of beautiful, powerful, inspiring music. There is the music that we sing, all of us. As Methodists we are descendants of a powerful music force that first swept across this young nation in the late 1700s. The Great Awakening, as it was called, was fueled as much by the music of Charles Wesley and others as by its preaching. Our hymn-singing still today carries forward the vital faith that inspires generation after generation and teaches us so much of what we know in our hearts to be true about the love of God in Christ Jesus.

And in our worship, there is also music created by trained musicians for the glory of God. Music from the organ and piano, music from the bells and drums and flute, and music from choirs of God's faithful servants. Music written and offered in gratitude to the God who creates it and us. Music that carries us into the presence of the Holy of Holies.

In the passage we heard this morning from 2 Chronicles, written 400 years before the birth of Jesus, we hear a description of worship in which musicians playing cymbals, harp and lyre, and one hundred and twenty trumpeters, and many singers, choirs, make themselves heard in unison in praise and thanksgiving to the Lord. And as the music sounds forth, the temple is filled with the very presence of God. The glory of the Lord filled the house of God, it says, so much so that the priests were glued to their seats and could not stand to continue their ministerial duties.

I'm going to take that as my cue to sit down. Because this is not a day in which many spoken words are needed or appropriate. Today our music lifts our gratitude and praise. Today our music expresses our sorrow and magnifies our hope. Today our music gives voice to our faith.

And as we thank our choirs, our accompanists and instrumentalists, we give thanks to God for the ways, week in and week out, in which their offering of music carries us into the presence of God. For the sacred moments in which their music has graced us to connect head and heart, mind and body and soul, beyond words, taking us to a deep, deep place of contemplation and gratitude in the bosom of God, the place of eternal harmony and unending Alleluia.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

(c) Patricia E. Farris, 2001. Permission is given for brief quotation with attribution. All other rights reserved.