James Snyder
When it comes to music, I am quite a fan. I enjoy all kinds of music, though some more than others. When I’m driving, I love having the radio on and listening to music. Sometimes I jump from station to station listening to different kinds of music.
Although I love music, I am not the person anyone would want to sing. If you ever heard me sing, you might have a little pause about music yourself.
The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage has been playing the piano since she was a young girl. Her father played the piano, and she has followed in his footsteps. She is quite good at the piano, and she has been the pianist in all the churches we have pastored.
Even in retirement, she plays the piano at our Sunday morning service.
I don’t know why this thought came to me. But when I was in first grade, I took violin lessons. That was in 1957. I don’t quite remember why I took violin lessons. But everybody in first grade was invited to take some music lessons. One day, my first-grade teacher asked me, “Would you like to take violin lessons?”
Who in their right mind would ever say no to their first-grade teacher? So, I told her I would, and she set me up for my first lesson.
At the time, music wasn’t part of my life. We didn’t have TV, and at my age I rarely listened to the radio. The only music that I heard was in church on Sunday. What I brought to that violin lesson is beyond my comprehension.
My parents bought me a violin, and I practiced at home. At least I thought I was practicing. My music was so terrible, and it showed in my violin lessons, that the violin teacher called a meeting with my parents.
I was excited because I thought he was going to tell my parents what a wonderful violin player I was. However, when the meeting started, it was completely different from what I expected.
The teacher looked at my parents, then looked over at me, then back at my parents and said, “If you have any respect at all for music you will take your son out of these violin lessons. I’ve never had a worse student in my life.”
Of course my parents were surprised, as I was. Out of respect for the violin teacher, they removed me from his class. On the way home, both my parents were silent. I never heard anything from them about that meeting. That week they sold my violin.
Nothing has changed throughout the years. I’m still as bad at music as I ever was.
It’s good to know what you can’t do so you can adjust your life.
As a pastor, I’ve had to lead the congregation in singing hymns. Fortunately, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage was playing the piano and played it so loud nobody could hear me singing. I didn’t catch up to that until many years later.
Some people are just gifted in music. I watched the TV show America’s Got Talent and listened to all the music people auditioned. It’s amazing how much musical talent they have on that show.
Even though singing is not my forte, I certainly enjoy listening to music. Sometimes the ear is more profitable than the mouth.
I remember one time I was in the shower, and for some reason I began singing. A few moments later, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage came to the bathroom, knocked on the door, and said, “Are you okay? You sound like you’re in pain.”
I didn’t know she could hear me singing in the shower. So, that was the last time I sang in the shower. Now I only sing when I’m driving across town by myself.
When I get to heaven, I hope I have a good singing voice. Until then, I’m going to keep my singing to myself.
We attend church on Sunday night, and they have a lot of music and singing. Older people getting up to the pulpit and singing like an angel impress me. No Sunday night goes by that I don’t want to get up and sing myself. But out of great respect for the congregation’s ears, I refuse that impulse.
Just because I can’t sing doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate others who are singing. I enjoy listening to them, and after the service, I like to shake their hand and tell them what a good job they did.
It’s not that I can’t sing; it’s just that I have a terrible voice. I do not know the difference between one musical note and another. To me, they’re all the same. I guess I’m just a monotone.
Some award should be waiting for me because I haven’t cursed the world around me with my singing. That should be worth something.
The Bible says something interesting along these lines.
“Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath” (James 1:19).
Many are swift to speak and slow to hear. If I would actually hear something, I would be slow to judge someone.
Like The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage says to me, “God gave you two ears and one mouth for a purpose.” In that light, I’m going to work hard at using my ears more than my mouth.