Find the Melody
If you’ve been around St. John’s awhile, then you’ll know that I have a passionate obsession with the band Phish.
I’ve loved Phish since middle school. I saw my first show in 1997, and have seen them about 60 times since. Some people (like my father) scratch their head at how a human could devote so much energy to seeing the same band dozens of times; but for me, seeing Phish has always been a spiritual experience. They’ve never repeated a set of music; and they manage tension and release as artfully as any artist I know (I here include my other favs, Beethoven and the Beatles). Every show, I walk away with a theological insight; and recently I experienced such an epiphany while seeing the band at the Sphere in Vegas.
Phish often stretches songs to 30 minute improvisations; and at some point in every “jam,” the band follows a melodic line as far as it will go. In such moments, I always feel a bit of fear, or at least anxiety, wondering how they will continue. The band slows down; they focus; they lean in and really listen to one another. And then, it happens: the drummer shifts the rhythm; the bassist modulates the key; the guitarist finds a melody — and off they launch in a whole new musical direction. The crescendo following such moments is often the most transcendent of the entire song. And what struck me at the Sphere in early May was how courageous this band is. They find themselves at an impasse, and they go on. They trust their abilities, and one another — and the fact that something beautiful may blossom, if they just keep going. In other words, they have faith.
So often in our lives, and in our culture, we find ourselves in seasons of uncertainty. It’s a human experience as old as time. It’s the moment the disciples felt on Good Friday; when the teacher they believed would inaugurate a new reality of love and liberation was hung upon a cross. It’s the moment when, after Jesus returned and walked with them for fifty days, he ascended into heaven. When they must have looked at one another, and thought, He’s really gone? Now it’s up to us? After Jesus’ ascension, we becomes Christ’s body — the hands and feet and heart God has to work with. And thankfully, this work is never something we undertake alone. We have God’s presence with us — and in us as the Holy Spirit: guiding us, inspiring us, leading us into new possibilities of beauty and connection.
Courage is never possible without fear. It’s a response to fear. So despite the fear we often feel in the face of uncertainty, we keep going. We lean in, we listen. We find the melody together.
Love,
Travis
