I’m amazed by the gratitude I receive from families after a funeral. They always seem to be so thankful for the gift of music and singing. A recent week was absolute proof of that for me. In the course of one week, my life as a church musician included three funerals. Although each was very different, the one link was music, specifically the hymn “His Eye Is on the Sparrow.”
Families often request the hymn for funerals, which I find odd because of its cheerful refrain: “I sing because I’m happy.” I’ve known these words since childhood. Although that is often true, I think that we more often sing because we are sad.
Almost exactly a year ago it was clear that Susan, a parishioner that I loved dearly, had very little time left with us. So, I went to visit and be with her one last time. There were no words in the moment, just hand holding and gratitude for the life she had lived and the support and love she had given to me. Susan had been on the committee that hired me and was many times my greatest advocate. My heart was heavy as I said goodbye.
When I finally returned home at the end of that dreadful day, I felt overcome with grief. And as my soul began to sink, a song came to me. A song that I had not heard in nearly 20 years. Nevertheless, there it was when I needed it: “I was standing by the bedside of a neighbor, who was just about to cross the swelling tide.” The music had appeared to me as a balm in my grief just when I needed it.
I think the same thing is happening for the families who gather to bear witness to the resurrection of loved ones. They assemble with those closest to them and, just when they need it most, there is a song. A song that suggests perhaps there is no need to feel discouraged because God’s provision is great and, as the Almighty watches over the sparrow, we too are protected.
I do not wish to imply, especially in an issue focusing on mental health, that music is the only thing one needs to overcome grief. I do not think that music is a replacement for medical science, but it certainly helps me when I need it, soothing my weary soul.
Music comes to us when we are downhearted. It has an unnamed special power. When I miss my grandmother, all I have to do is sit at the piano and play the first few notes of her favorite hymn, “There’s a sweet, sweet spirit in this place,” and she comes to me, singing the melody that she has left for me in my heart. Because this is our experience and the words of our faith, we have no reason to feel discouraged by grief, even when it seems like the only option.
Phillip Morgan is the director of music at Central Presbyterian Church in Louisville, Kentucky. He is the southeastern representative for the board of directors of the Presbyterian Association of Musicians.
