The lesson of the Messiah

Hi everyone! Last night Melissa and I had an experience that I will cherish for a long time; hearing Handel's Messiah performed in its entirety... in the York Minster!

Now if you know me, you know that I often criticize "classical" enthusiasts for living in the past. ("Find out what good art is being made today! There's more to life than Mozart, people!") But this wasn't just a concert of classical music. As I looked at the tree-trunk sized pillars rising high above my head, and as I closed my eyes and heard the music existing and continuing through the cathedral, I came to the revelation that the building was an active participant in the experience. It was sound-in-space, it was architectural sound, a collaboration between the living performers and the long-dead builders and the inanimate rock. It was magic.

Besides the aesthetic experience, which I can only describe, there was an underlying tension that I picked up on that I wanted to share. To understand the tension, you have to be aware that the text of the Messiah is essentially a manifesto, a creed of Christian faith, from the incarnation, through death and resurrection, and into the commission of disciples. It is, in a sense, "The Bible for Dummies," firmly entrenched in a reformation mindset.

Before the concert began, a minister related this to the audience, and explained that "for some of the performers," the concert would be an offering of worship to God. With the understanding that this was an overtly Christian work, performed in a cathedral, and that the message of the music resonanted with some of the performers' own convictions, it would seem reasonable to classify it as a "Christian event," or at least I thought so.

You can imagine my surprise and intrigue, then, when I read the program notes, which informed me that, in order to understand the piece, one had to realize that there was a time in history when people actually considered the Bible to carry divine authority (imagine that!), or that the Gospels were accurate records of historical events. Apparently I needed that historical brief, because our current understanding of evolution and Newtonian physics (both of which were explicitly mentioned) have certainly made Handel's viewpoint look pretty silly by now.

Now, the program note in itself didn't bother me, or interest me; I'm used to people arguing that the law of gravity and Scriptural authority are somehow mutually exclusive. What piqued my interest was the coexistence of these two perspectives: classical faith on the one hand, scientific agnosticism on the other. Not only did they coexist, but they seemed completely unaware of the other's presence! I was left confused: is the Messiah an interesting historical artifact of an irrational religion, or is it a living confession of faith?

Maybe it's an embodiment of the current situation, that religion is allowed to exist as long as it promises not to challenge reason, and reason is allowed to remain an atheist as long is it doesn't challenge the faithful. Both camps have their proverbial heads in the sand, afraid of what might happen in the event of a confrontation.

If that's the case, I don't know what to say except that it's pretty funny. But what I really like is that both of these camps were forced to coexist for a few hours, and what brought them together was nothing other than a piece of music. What does that mean? It means that art can be a context for meaningful discussion. I've read many books, and heard many sermons and discussions about faith and religion, but hearing it in music is another thing altogether. And it's a necessary thing. It's more than "music with a message" that the modern music industry would sell to Christian youths; the music is the message. We tend to draw a sharp line between thought and feeling, art and philosophy. But the Messiah stands in the middle of the divide, reaffirming that our deepest understanding of life can't be confined to arguments or sermons, or even logic. It needs to be felt, seen and heard; and then, lived.