In an essay by Garrison Keilor he makes these comments about the Methodists. 

Nobody sings like the Methodists. If you were to ask an audience in New York City, A relatively Methodistless place, to sing along on the chorus of “Michael Row the Boat Ashore,” they will look daggers at you as if you had asked them to strip to their underwear. But if you do this among Methodists, they’d smile and row that boat ashore and up on the beach! And down the road!

Many Methodists are bred from childhood to sing in four-part harmony, a talent that comes from sitting on the lap of someone singing alto or tenor or bass and hearing the harmonic intervals by putting your little head against the person’s rib care. It’s natural for Methodists to sing in harmony. We are too modest to be soloists, too worldly to sing in unison. When you are singing in the key of C and you slide into the A7th and D7th chords, all two hundred of you, it is an emotionally fulfilling moment. By our joining in harmony, we somehow promise that we will not forsake each other. 

When I was a child, we sang hymns as a family. Almost every Sunday afternoon we gathered around the piano. My mother played and the rest of us sang. My father could not read music, but he sang with us. 

I grew up in the choirs of the church, both the primary and youth choirs. I recall them as fun and rich experiences. 

Participation in choirs requires many things: Support of families, a number or volunteers, a committed church. Popular culture hammers at our children. There is a fascination with violence, intolerance of those who are different and a stress on the importance of wealth and things to make life happy. In the choir and music ministry of this church, we feed the God given nature in our children, youth and adults. 

A lot of discussion and disagreement today is in the area of music. Some people call them the “worship wars.” Changes are taking place all around us. The reality is that the church is about the only place left where we sing together. A lot of music is performance oriented. We have lost the art of singing. In the 1970’s almost everyone sang along with the music of the Beatles or Joan Baez or Bob Dylan. Today it is more the performance mode. Music is in our ears, but not in our throats. 

Music is so much more than entertainment. Our voices are meant to do more than talk. The Psalmist says many times, “Sing a new song.” When he says that, he is saying that to everyone, not just the performers and not just the choirs. 

The church is really counter cultural today. We still sing together. Someone has written, “We know we leave the ordinary speaking voice at the door when we gather to do this thing that matters most in life. What we do here, we do as the church. Singing is how the church does what it must do and delights in doing.” 

Often music teaches us more about faith than theology. Often music is our theology. Kathleen Norris writes, “I am just now beginning to recognize the truth. We go to church in order to sing, and theology is secondary.” 

Music shapes us in joy, in tragedy, in struggles and in success. Music gives us hope and affirms the promises of God. Music has a way of getting into our souls. We sing because we can often sing more than we can say. 

Preaching and liturgy and prayer are important. But, music is the key. Think about it. How many people do you know that leave church humming the sermon? 

This is Choir Recognition Sunday. Maybe it should also be called Music Recognition Sunday.  St. Augustine once said, “To sing is to pray twice.” Music and singing is a variation of prayer. 

The closing anthem is one you have come to know and love. The “First Song of Isaiah” has been used here for at least 27 years. You will be invited to join in part of the singing. But as you sing, you will also be praying. “Surely it is God who saves me; I will trust in Him and not be afraid.”