Glorifying God Through Jazz
Jazz is perhaps my favorite genre of music, so I was delighted to find this article on glorifying God through jazz. (HT: Thinking Christian) I actually began as a music major at college here, but have switched to a minor while I pursue philosophy. I play(ed) classical guitar and am taking a jazz improvisation class now. It is fun, although I haven’t put in enough practice time to really see improvements. The main thing I have gotten out of it is a new respect for jazz players. Sometimes our teacher will demonstrate the technical facility we are trying to reach and will play a chord on the piano or a backing track of II V I’s on CD and explain how at the exact second he hears a chord, he “spontaneously composes” a phrase in his head (he actually hears the whole thing and can sing it out loud), and then instantaneously transfers it to his tenor sax without even thinking about it. Needless to say, it’s amazing and beautiful. It really is a testament to what humans are capable of. Here are four things from the article that jazz can tell us about Christian spirtuality:
Jazz fights against privatization. Jazz is about interaction. There is constant interplay between the musicians—and with the listeners, too. Jazz is communal music that resists our tendency toward individualism.
Jazz can help our skewed eschatology by recovering the already/not yet tension. Clapp points out that jazz (like the African spirituals that gave it birth) wrestles with joy in the midst of sadness, longing in hope. It is filled with tension, and thus expresses life after the Fall.
Jazz shows us our need for roots and wings! Jazz teaches respect for a tradition, a community bigger than our peers. Jazz players must learn from the masters and yet still find their own voices. There is a great model of discipleship here, teaching us how to embody a tradition while maintaining our individuality.
Jazz teaches us improvisation as a way of life. Jazz is intuitive and celebrates the process of discovery. There are almost infinite ways from A to B (a walking bass line is a good example), and jazz musicians love to explore as many as they can, soloing over the same chord changes chorus after chorus. There is freedom within structure—we create as image-bearers of a creative God. Often there is a sense of stepping out a bit, feeling that the water is fine, and then jumping in and swimming all around, exploring rhythm, timbre, and harmony within a particular structure. Minority cultures have always been better at improvising, making the most of what they have been given, and it is a timely skill for Christians to develop as we engage a post-Christian culture.