The Reverend Dr. Lillian Daniel
4th Sunday of Advent
December 21, 2008
First Congregational Church,
www.firstconge.org
630-469-3096
Introduction to the
Scripture:
On the last Sunday of the Advent season, we usually hear
the reading called “Mary’s Song,” or the “Magnificat.” It’s what Mary said, or
rather what Mary sang, after she heard the news that she would give birth to
the Christ child. The angel, Gabriel, appeared to her to tell her that she
would give birth to Jesus, and rather than shrinking away, she asked a
practical question: “How can that be, since I am a virgin?” The angel
responded, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you,
and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God.” He
went on to tell her that her elderly cousin Elizabeth was also expecting a
baby, who would turn out to be John the Baptist. They actually had a back and
forth conversation, this teenage girl and an angel, and by the end, she
realized that the hard road the angel had laid out was the road she would have
to walk down. After that, Mary decided to visit her cousin Elizabeth. When she
arrived, and Elizabeth, who was six months pregnant, heard Mary’s voice, and
we’re told that the baby in her womb kicked and moved. Elizabeth cried out, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of
your womb.” It was then, at this remarkable family reunion, that Mary sang out
these famous words.
Scripture: Luke 1:47-55
And
Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my
Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely,
from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One
has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those
who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with
his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their
hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up
the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the
rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his
mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and
to his descendants forever.”
Sermon:
The term phobia, which comes
from the Greek word for fear (öüâïò, fobos), denotes a number of psychological
and physiological conditions that can range from common fears, to minor quirks,
to serious disabilities. An American study by the National Institute of Mental
Health found that between 5.1 and 21.5 percent of Americans suffer from
phobias. Apparently, phobias are the most common form of anxiety disorder.
There are plenty of people out there with resources to help you overcome them. On the website, “Cure Your Phobia Instantly,” I found this intriguing question: Do you suffer from Phobia of Singing? Symptoms of Phobia of Singing include: breathlessness, excessive sweating, dry mouth, shaking, heart palpitations, inability to speak or think clearly, a fear of dying, becoming mad or losing control, a sensation of detachment from reality or a full blown anxiety attack. “You are not the only one to suffer from this phobia,” the website assures us. Most sufferers are surprised to learn that they are far from alone in this surprisingly common, although often unspoken, fear. Phobia of Singing is an intense fear of something that poses no actual danger. [1]
I share this information with you, dear congregation, as a sort of public service announcement, for those of you who appear to suffer from a rarer form of the phobia, which I, now the leading medical expert on the subject, have entitled, The Phobia of Singing in Church. Here’s what my research has produced. At times of congregational singing, symptoms include standing up, opening up the bulletin and looking at the words of the song without ever opening one’s mouth. Other more high functioning sufferers try to mask their symptoms by staring deeply into the bulletin and pretending to mumble, all the while wondering if the person in front of them is angry because they can’t carry a tune in a bucket. In the more extreme cases of the phobia, some victims actually appear, during times of congregational singing, to lose consciousness and stare blankly into space as if hypnotized. In cases like this, it is unhelpful for the pastor to stare back, since they are generally in a trance-like state, which is the only explanation for why someone would look their singing, senior pastor in the eye at such a moment, unless, as some psychologists suspect, the blank stare at the congregational leader is actually a cry for help.
Other forms of this anxiety
disorder, when mixed with anger and authority issues from the past, include
refusing to look at the words of the songs at all and instead staring directly
at all worship leaders, mouthing the words,
“Come down here and make me.” OK, you know who you are – but there is
help for you. In fact, there is tons of information out there about the fear of
singing. You may recall the old survey that revealed that more people feared
public speaking than feared death. Well, singing is scarier still. There are
even a couple of words for the fear of singing:
Decantophobia = fear of singing (Latin
root); and Adophobia = fear of singing (Greek root-ancient). Whenever a
disorder gets two words, one Latin and one Greek, you know it’s extremely
serious.
Most
discussion of the fear of singing is actually about the fear of singing in
public, and to be more specific, the fear of singing a solo, or lead, in public.
There are all sorts of encouraging words written to help someone get through
such a moment, advice like, “Everyone there wants to see you do a good job, you
don’t have to be a perfect singer, just show your feelings and emotions, etc.”
Here’s what struck me as odd about all this literature to help people with
their crippling fear of publicly singing a solo: Why do so many people need and
want help with this? I mean, fear of death, we all need help with that, because
we’re all facing it. Fear of public speaking, well, you may be able to get by
in life having to do very little of it, but then you’ll find yourself needing
to make a wedding toast, or having to present something at work, and so, yes,
most of us do need to work at least a little on our fear of public speaking –
but a fear of publicly singing a solo? Who really has to work on that? It’s not
like there are all these situations in life when you are forced to sing in
front of people. “Sorry, you’re the best man, so you absolutely have to sing at
my wedding.” Or, “I’m going to need you to fly to Denver to meet with the
clients, and just be sure you’re ready at the board meeting to sing “Jingle
Bell Rock...” because the whole deal hinges on that.” (By the way, “Giddy up
jingle horse” has the distinction of the silliest song lyrics ever.) No,
singing solos is voluntary. So why are there all these places you can go for
help? Why just not sing, if you have a fear of singing publically? There are
all these websites, books and programs about how to overcome your paralyzing
fear and get out there and sing. You read enough about all these services and
you think, we must be a nation of nutty masochists. What makes these people
think they need to get over their fear of singing? Maybe you’re scared for a
reason. (I ask myself this at the beginning of every season of American Idol.) I mean, I’m scared of
jumping out of an airplane. OK, then don’t do it. Do I need therapy to get over
that? I don’t think so. You worry that your voice is not good enough to sing a
very challenging song in front of a large group of people. You know what, it
may not be. Don’t do it. Stay home. You know, that misses a key point about
human nature. We want to conquer our fears, and singing, throughout history,
has been an amazing way to do that.
I will
never forget, as a teenager, our family made a special trip to New York to see
our family friend sing in a nightclub. Was she a professional singer? Not at
all. She was a very competent professional in her field, a field that had
nothing to do with music: journalism. She was also one of the gutsiest women I had
ever met. Nothing scared her; except, as it turns out, singing in public. It
scared her but also attracted her. She had dreams of singing in a nightclub,
but they were also nightmares. She decided to take voice lessons, and at the
end of the year, to sing at a club with the other students. I’ll never forget
Molly taking the stage. Quaking in her boots, but clearly exhilarated, the
sweat on her face gave her a luminous glow as she delivered a jazz classic that
was far from perfect, but had about as much heart as a song could have. We
leapt to our feet in raucous applause. She was us. We were her. She was the
ordinary person doing something extraordinary, and by doing it, she took us
with her. We, in the entourage, all felt like big stars that night.
She
had done more than conquer her fear. She had experienced joy and brought us
with her.
Singing
is a fundamental form of communication that human beings have engaged in since
first they opened their mouths. I believe music preceded words as early human
beings hummed and sang and beat out sounds to express feelings and desires.
Singing is something we seem to have been hardwired to do, long before notions
of “being good at it” or even performing had ever crossed our minds. That’s why,
in most religions, when we get together to express ourselves to God, a lot of
it gets done through music. When we sing hymns, we are not just reciting words
that someone else has written.
We are
joining our voices together with a great cloud of witnesses who have sung the
same words before us. In moving our voices up and down the scales together, we
are adding this dimension to our worship that passes all verbal understanding
and takes us into a brave new world where, together, we have the courage to
sing. There’s a joy in it that comes not from doing it well but from doing it,
or at least trying to do it, together.
When
Mary sang the words we heard this morning, she sang alone. “My soul doth
magnify the Lord.” And it did, because we remember it today. But don’t just
remember the words. I want us also to remember the medium – she sang. And in doing that, she gave the
world a gift.
The good news this Sunday is that not everyone needs to sing the solo. While I would like to help a few of you overcome your fear of congregational singing, since really in that case the definition applies, it is an intense fear of something that poses no actual danger. So please do join your voices with others without fear, here of all places.
After that, you don’t have to do more. You don’t have to sing a solo unless you want to. When one person has the courage to sing, the rest of us get to listen, especially in the life of faith.
Singing alone is not really a solo act, it just looks that way from the pews. Really, it’s always about the community. The singer doesn’t sing alone but with all those gathered, she sings not just to us but for us. “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.” The Magnificat, Mary’s song.
Much music has been composed around this song, as artists have tried to imagine what it would have sounded like, but the truth is we have no idea about how it sounded. We only know that rather than speaking, she sang her words.
She sang about how her soul was bigger because of this challenge. And then, remarkably, she turned her attention away from herself, and talked about justice, for the poor and the hungry.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their
hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
Just when her own young teenage life was a about to be turned upside down, Mary turned her heart to those people whose situation was worse than her own, and prayed good things for them, and that’s why she’s our inspiration.
Most remarkably, she didn’t just talk about it. Somehow she
found the courage to sing.