On Thursday February 8, 2024 Jacob Adler gave a lecture entitled The Metaphysics of Sound for the Fran Park Center series “Faith & Science”. Jacob delved into the fascinating realm of mystical experiences, exploring their diverse forms, triggers, and potential scientific explanations. Mystical experiences were described as profound altered states of consciousness that could lead to insights into absolute truth, unity with the cosmos, and detachment from the self. These experiences were said to occur unexpectedly or be intentionally induced through practices like meditation, prayer, or psychedelic drugs.

Historical and contemporary examples of mystical experiences were shared, ranging from the migraine visions of Hildegard of Bingen to Dostoevsky's ecstatic seizures and near-death experiences recounted by Juliana of Norwich. The role of psychoactive substances in inducing transcendental states was also touched upon, with anecdotes illustrating profound spiritual revelations. 

The scientific exploration of mystical experiences was examined, focusing on neurological studies. Research indicating the involvement of specific brain regions in facilitating these experiences, such as the temporal lobe and temporoparietal cortex, was highlighted. However, the lecture also acknowledged the limitations of purely neurological explanations for the profound meaning and significance attributed to mystical encounters.

The use of music as a tool for inducing mystical experiences was discussed, citing examples of compositions and musical styles designed to evoke meditative trance states. Personal experiences organizing music events aimed at fostering spiritual and emotional journeys within a community setting were shared.

In the second half of the lecture, the mathematical underpinnings of harmony in music was explored, particularly the harmonic series and just intonation tuning systems. It was suggested that understanding these mathematical relationships could deepen appreciation of the inherent beauty and complexity of music and potentially enhance the ability to induce transformative experiences through sound.

Jacob performed an excerpt of Charlemagne Palestine's piano work Strumming Music to demonstrate trance-inducing repetition, the harmonic resonance of piano strings, and psychoacoustic effects. This performance was followed by a stimulating Q & A session with the audience. 

If you’d like to rewatch the lecture it can be accessed here.

Next Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, a 40-day period of reflection and penance leading up to Easter Sunday. It's a time when many Christians reflect on the temporary nature of life and the importance of spiritual growth…and personally, my favorite day of the liturgical year. The day, Ash Wednesday, gets its name from the practice of placing ashes on the foreheads of believers as a sign of repentance and humility. But let's sprinkle a bit of pop culture into this ancient tradition to see how themes of ashes resonate beyond religious practices. 

In the world of pop music, ashes often symbolize transformation, loss, or the remnants of a fiery passion. Take, for example, David Bowie's iconic track "Ashes to Ashes." Bowie uses the metaphor of ashes to delve into the idea of coming full circle, from stardom to downfall and back to self-discovery. It's a haunting reflection on change and the cyclical nature of life, echoing the themes of Ash Wednesday in a way that bridges secular and sacred worlds. 

Then there's the unforgettable chorus of "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas. This classic rock ballad reminds us that, in the grand scheme of things, we are all just "dust in the wind." It's a poignant reminder of the temporary nature of human life, echoing the Ash Wednesday message that from dust we came, and to dust we shall return. 

Integrating pop culture references into the conversation about Ash Wednesday highlights how universal the themes of mortality, repentance, and transformation are. Whether it's through the solemn ritual of receiving ashes or the reflective lyrics of a song, these themes resonate across different contexts, reminding us of our shared human experience.  

Ash Wednesday invites us to pause, reflect, and embrace a spirit of humility and transformation. Just as songs can move us to contemplate our place in the world, this day offers a spiritual pause button, urging us to consider the deeper currents running through our lives. In the end, whether through the sacred or the secular, the message is clear: life is fleeting, and now is the time to reflect, renew, and perhaps, rewrite our own chorus.

When I reached the summer before ninth grade I was finally old enough to participate in the canoe camp at the Christian camp that I had attended for years. My brother had been a canoe camper when he was in high school and for years I looked forward to the week of canoeing and camping under the stars. I had never canoed before, but I did not think much about that before rushing to sign up and head off to the river.

We had one day of training for the adventure by spending some time at the river learning how to navigate our canoes through different situations. I was a little bit intimidated, but not the least bit deterred in my excitement. Sometime that night before our big departure I did get a little nervous. I decided that I would join the canoe with the nurse, thinking that I would be safer, somehow, that way.

It turned out it was also the nurse’s first time in a canoe! In order to ensure that the nurse could help everyone in case of an injury or other emergency, the nurse was in the last canoe … with me. We had one other person in our canoe who decided it would be fun to lazily float down the river. Being not the most athletic of people, I was content to let the river do the work!

This was all well and good until the current suddenly quickened and we were completely out of control. The canoe hit a rock and spun sideways against a large fallen tree that was in the river. We were still in the canoe and uninjured, but we couldn’t dislodge the canoe from the log. We made the mistake of getting out of the canoe and without our weight in it, it capsized sideways into the water and was trapped with water rushing into it and pinning it against the log.

Despite repeated efforts, we could not dislodge the canoe. And because of our genius idea for a lazy day on the river, as the last canoe there was no one left to come upon us. We finally sat ourselves on the bank of the river with no plan for our next steps. None of us were panicking, at least not on the outside! We talked about how they would surely realize we were missing and come back to find us. Eventually. 

After some time, the nurse decided that we should pray. I thought it was silly at the time, but I rationalized that it was also silly to sit on the side of the river and wait. So, we stood up, walked into the water alongside our trapped canoe, laid our hands on the canoe, and said a prayer for deliverance from the situation. Before we could even leave our spot in the river, the canoe suddenly came dislodged and started floating down the fast-paced river. After we caught up to the canoe and climbed back into it, we all three looked at one another with a bit of awe and anxious wonder.

I sometimes like to think about that incident and how different factors played a role in dislodging the canoe. I know that currents change frequently in the river and that our presence in the opening of the canoe influenced the flow around the canoe while we were praying. But I also know that in that moment, regardless of any other factors, we experienced a miracle that wouldn’t have happened if the nurse hadn’t interrupted our silence and said, “let’s pray.”

Later this week the Fran Park Center is partnering with the Arizona Interfaith Movement to sponsor an interfaith tour of three houses of worship: Hindu, Sikh, and Buddhist. Some Christians might be uncomfortable encountering others' faiths. However, I feel that I have learned a lot about what it means to be a Christian by interacting with people from other religions and exploring the teachings of those religions. I have even taught Comparative Religion courses at the college level. The more I learn, the more I understand that I am a Christian and why.

Some of my most memorable encounters with people of other faiths would have to be those with Muslims, because their faith teachings were most challenging to my own. Because Christianity is an outgrowth of Judaism, it is relatively easy to understand Jewish theology. And yet while Islam is an outgrowth of both Judaism and Christianity, Islam offers certain counter perspectives on the story of the God we share and especially the New Testament.

Twenty-four years ago, I went to teach for a summer in a village that is split between the Israeli and Palestinian sides of the Green Line. The school where I went to teach English was a college of Islamic law, basically a community college for local Arab students. My students that summer were all female, which helped classroom dynamics tremendously. If there had been male students, the women would have had to sit in the back of the class behind a barrier. As it was, the students felt free always to speak their minds. And they did share their thoughts freely.  Whenever I said something that disagreed with their understanding of life, God and the world, they would pull out their Qur’an and say, “But professor, the Qur’an says, _______________.”

One day, they asked me to tell them about Christianity. When we got to the part about Jesus dying on the cross, they said, “No professor, that is not correct. Jesus did not die on the cross. Judas was crucified in his place. God put Jesus’ face onto Judas, and the crowds took Judas to the cross. Jesus observed the crucifixion from the Mount of Olives and then ascended into heaven without having died.” I just stared at them. I had never heard such a thing! I could understand that people deny the resurrection, but the crucifixion itself?!  Until that moment, I had thought that the one undeniable fact about Jesus of Nazareth was that he died on a Roman cross. It is a matter of faith that he rose from the dead; history however says for sure that Jesus died.

Later that night, after this class session, I could not sleep. I paced back and forth for hours. “How could someone deny the crucifixion? It makes no sense.” I soon discovered that this tenet of Islam is not stated so clearly in the Qur’an. All it says is, “That they (The Jews) said (in boast), "We killed Christ Jesus the son of Mary, the Messenger of Allah”; but they killed him not, nor crucified him, but so it was made to appear to them, and those who differ therein are full of doubts, with no (certain) knowledge, but only conjecture to follow, for of a surety they killed him not. Nay, Allah raised him up unto Himself; and Allah is Exalted in Power, Wise. — Quran 4:157–158

Islam also teaches that Jesus was born by the power of the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary and that will come again at the end of time to judge humanity. These are views that Christians share with Muslims. Even though I wrestled with my students’ understanding of Jesus’ death (or his non-death), I listened to what they found meaningful in their faith perspectives. I knew that my faith in Jesus called me to be hospitable to others. This must have shown through, because my students finally said to me, after our many conversations, “We do not understand why you are not a Muslim. You are such a good person.” And this spoke to me the basic tenet of my faith: Jesus said love God and love your neighbor.” Let your actions speak loudest; they show others what you believe. As I sought to see each of my students as Christ in the flesh, they saw in me the model of their own faith: one who is submissive to the will of God (for this is what Islam means: submission.)

Though my Muslim students and Muslim friends hold theological perspectives different at times from my own, through encounter with living, breathing others, I saw the Golden Thread that is woven through humanity’s faith perspective: love one another, and in so doing you show your faith in God (or goodness itself).

My understanding is that God has called me to be a follower of Jesus Christ, and I am to show that love I encounter in him to all whom I meet. I try my best to seek out the ways they not only live out the Golden Rule, but seek truth in action through love. This I learn surely in engaging with other Christians, and this I learn in encountering people whose faith perspectives vary widely from my own. When I am open to seeking God in all experiences, I find that even more so, God is seeking me. I meet God on the path, as the two disciples of old met Jesus on the road to Emmaus, unexpectedly, and with their hearts strangely warmed.

This is my final BLOG post to Echoes (of the Word) as Pastor of Pinnacle Presbyterian Church. On the Sunday after this is posted, I'm retiring from nearly 15 years in this role.  I do so with mixed feelings of shock at how quickly these years seem to have gone, gratitude for the privilege of being in ministry, sadness at departing, excitement about what lies ahead, and more.  

I'm tempted to simply post two words:  Thank you.  

Thank you for reading, and engaging.  Thank you for filling in the blanks when my words aren't complete, making sense when they aren't coherent, giving grace when they raise opposition, being patient when they don't go far enough, and receiving them when they hit near the mark.  

In the worship service at Pinnacle this coming Sunday, we'll begin the service singing one of my favorite hymns.  It's one I've loved since my teen years at St. Paul's United Methodist Church in Rochester, Michigan.  It was number 427 in the Methodist Hymnal of the time (if I remember right).  I think I loved it because it felt uplifting, inspiring, and even triumphant—even though it is a memorial hymn.  I loved the tune.  And I loved the way the words helped make faith feel worth the effort.  I think I loved it, too, because my father loved it.  He was a singer by affection and profession, and he died of a heart attack while I was in college (both of us far too young).  We sang this hymn at his funeral.  Its music is a 1906 tune by Ralph Vaughan Williams, called SINE NOMINE.  Its text was written in 1864 by William Walsham How.  Here are three of the five verses:

For all the saints who from their labors rest, 
who thee by faith before the world confessed,
thy name, O Jesus, be forever blessed.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle; they in glory shine;
yet all are one in thee, for all are thine.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Alleluia! Alleluia!

I'm writing about this because at the conclusion of our worship on Sunday we'll sing the same tune, still echoing with this text, but we'll sing it with new words.  We'll sing it with another text, included in the most recent Presbyterian hymnal.  It's a 1985 text by Sylvia G. Dunstan.  I asked that we do this on Sunday to offer a bit of a message:  that the work of the church is often about balancing the familiar with the unfamiliar, the traditional with the innovative, the security of what has been with the faith filled expectation of what is coming.  It's about singing the old in new ways—timely and hopeful, fitting the moment, confident in God.  

It's number 295 in the PCUSA hymnal, Glory to God.  If you know the tune, sing away:

Go to the world!  Go into all the earth.
Go preach the cross where Christ renews life's worth,
baptizing as the sign of our rebirth.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

Go to the world! Go into every place.
Go live the word of God's redeeming grace.
Go seek God's presence in each time and space.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

Go to the world!  Go struggle, bless and pray;
the nights of tears give way to joyous day.
As servant church, you follow Christ's own way.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

Go to the world!  Go as the ones I send,
for I am with you till the age shall end,
when all the hosts of glory cry "Amen!"
Alleluia! Alleluia!

Thank you.