By Bryce Horswell—Assistant Director of Upper School

It has been a pleasure to overhear the rehearsals and the patient encouragement of Mr. and Mrs. Fata as they prepare the students for upcoming music concerts. And sometimes I also smile to myself, since every so often one seems to perceive that not all the students are very excited about training or performing. Maybe they wonder: “Why do we have to do this--couldn’t the time be better spent on personal interests, exam preparation, homework, or just some relaxation time? After all, it’s been a busy week and we are tired!” Imagining this comment prompted me to reflect on the meaning of music, its place in traditional education, and why it might be the most dangerous thing we teach our students at Highlands Latin School.

Dangerous!?! Well, I don’t mean to cause undue alarm, but a definite strand in classical philosophy was that music was indeed dangerous and needed to be treated with very carefully. We’ll look at the logic of that argument presently, but a quick parallel of what the ancients were concerned about is portrayed in C.S. Lewis’s description of the great Lion Aslan. When the Pevensie children first hear about the mysterious, awesome Lion from Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, they are curious and frightened: “Is he safe?”, they wonder. The Beavers make an interesting reply: “Safe!? Of course He isn’t safe! BUT, He is good.” We might say the very same about music.

A few weeks ago, the seniors and I read the Roman statesman Cicero and his thoughts on the best possible form of government. In that reading, there was a section detailing his thoughts on music, which in turn were his reflections on similar themes found in Plato’s Republic. And, as I have hinted already, one of their shared conclusions is that the state ought to be very careful in supervising the kind of music played in public performances or displays--certainly a great contrast between their thoughts on the subject and those of our contemporary culture! Their reasoning was that music by its very nature had the irresistible effect of unlocking the listeners’ hearts: so, a musical performance was like soul surgery. According to the tones, rhythms, and words expressed, feelings rose and fell; the audience alternatively becoming jubilant or sombre, fevered with excitement or melancholy. How powerful! The philosophers also claimed that music existed on a moral spectrum as well, that it could be divine or devilish, and because it was so, it was also dangerous! Listening to bad music (they said) would invariably, given enough time, corrupt a person. For them, there was no such thing as passively listening to something “in the background”--you would just as cavalierly complete a chore with a lion in the room watching you. You need to know if the lion is good or not!

However, their message (and what I intend in mine) is more hopeful than not. Cicero concludes his reflection with a summary of astronomy, which may seem like an odd juxtaposition, until you realize that the ancients believed that what held the very world, planets, and universe together were divine harmonies, played from the beginning of time, surrounding and binding all things. In the place of Newtonian laws and energy, the ancients substituted angelic choruses. I see a correspondence with Christian faith in this imagining of the physical world. We all know the opening lines of Genesis, and God’s creation of the world, that He “spoke, and it was…”, but the subtext of the language of this passage of Genesis-- the way the creation narrative is written, the words chosen, the rhythm and pacing of it all--it’s a poem! And as such, it is almost meant to be sung. Similarly, in the Revelation of St. John, when the apostle seemingly lifts the veil from our eyes with prophecy so that we can see divine reality apart from daily concerns, what is the business of heaven? Music! I’m also reminded of one of my favorite hymns, written in reflection on the beauty of creation, which says that in “my Father’s world..all nature sings and ‘round me rings, the music of the spheres…” When we listen to the best music, we are reminded and reaffirmed as a part of God’s creation, and confirmed in what the world ought to be like.

So next week, when we hear the HLS choruses perform, and in other instances when we listen to or play music, what should our emotional posture be? Assured that the music is in fact good, the fitting response is delight! How good it is to have our hearts opened, and to be affirmed, confirmed, and encouraged! How good it is to perceive with our soul’s “eyes and ears” (so to speak) the way the world REALLY is. With this final thought, I recall the 1981 film Chariots of Fire--a telling of the story of British runners Eric Liddell and Harold Abrahams, who competed in the 1924 Olympics. As fits a compelling story, both men have obstacles to overcome in order to triumph. Abrahams confronts anti-semitism, but Liddell’s struggle is a little more subtle: he (and his family) wonder if his passion for running is taking the prior place of faith in God. Is his athletic success a very real stumbling block? In a tense conversation with a dear sister, who pleads with Liddell to retire and rejoin efforts in the mission field, Liddell ponders a while, and then finally replies, “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run--I feel His pleasure.” Likewise, I think this is our shared experience when we sing and perform. We delight in knowing that we are fulfilling part of God’s purpose for us.

To end then, when our students (or we ourselves) question the utility of musical practice, let us remember the ancients, the Pevensies, biblical authors, and even Eric Liddell, and let’s reflect on the meaning of music!

The Meaning of Music