Old Spirituals and Djembes

In August, I went on a retreat with some student leaders at Loyola. We headed out to the suburbs and stayed in a quaint cottage on a lake, eating food from the grill and making runs to local ice cream shops late at night. In the evening, as we quieted our hearts before God, we lit candles on the living room carpet and sang along with the gentle strumming of guitar that was behind us.
In the morning, when all 8 of us awoke from our deep suburban sleep, we decided to move our programming outside, to savor the morning dew and the pleasant sound of squirrels throwing walnuts on rooftops. Each grabbing a kitchen chair, we sat in the lawn in a tight circle, leaving the neighbors to wonder if we were a cult while they sat in their garages and watched us.
There, in our strangely created outdoor meeting room, we read morning psalms and sang souther spirituals, using the legs of our chairs as drums.

At LaSalle Street Church, everything was upgraded but the mood was the same. Instead of kitchen chairs on a lawn in a cul-de-sac, we sat in high-class folding armchairs, gazing out the window at the trees heavy with snow, watching urbanites stroll by in their hats of red and gold. Instead of using the legs of our chairs to carry the beat, a cute flutist pulled out a djembe and provided the rhythm for our singing of "I Heard the Voice of Jesus Calling."

Both times, I — a girl who goes to a folk liturgical church with at least a violin if not a full strings ensemble — just smiled.

There is beauty in music. It is not confusing in the least for me that Mozart, Bach, Hayden considered their work worship. However, there is something amazing about the lack of chords, something magical about a simple beat and voices singing in unison.

Sitting there on the suburban lawn or sitting in the glistening basement of LaSalle Street Church, God is worshipped when we direct our hearts toward him.

And, in closing, a prayer recited at every evening liturgy:
Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, as it is now, and will be forever. Amen.