David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the L ORD with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals.
Saul is dead, David is king. And the first thing David and the people do is dance and make music. The accompanying reflection is from Eugene Peterson who writes, “David’s first job as king was making music, attempting to re-establish the divine order in Saul’s disordered mind and emotions. Establishing order in the midst of chaos is basic to kingwork. Music is probably our most elemental experience of this essential work. Music, bringing rhythm and harmony and tunefulness into being, is at the heart of all work. Kingworkers, whatever their jobs, whistle while they work.” Yes. Yes. Yes.
I love the idea that music is creating order, and it accompanies the business of order-making. I think about prodigy composers, somehow pulling from their brain lines of melody and harmony, point and counterpoint, and turning it into lines, spaces and dots on a page. Composing has always seemed like magic to me. Now I will add order-making to that list.
The same can be said for any musician. Music is making order, whether it’s whistling, singing or playing. And it definitely does soothe the savage beast. David began his business of order-making by making-music. Whereas before it might have seemed like a fanciful first step, I have a newfound appreciation for David and his lyre.
One reason this resonates so well today with me is because of my yesterday. Two nights ago, we discovered that our loved one had done their laundry, packed a suitcase and left the house. We had no idea where they’d gone. All we knew was that it was well past the time when we’d have expected them to return, even if they didn’t have a suitcase. Since we’ve been through this a half a dozen times, we knew what our job would have been, and we didn’t want to start that night. So, unlike previous times, we went to bed and slept on it, fitfully.
Yesterday, we awoke better rested to an empty house, and began the process. We started with a call to the police, to report them as missing. This always requires a call-back or visit by officers, which put everything on hold until that connection was made. We couldn’t go for a mind-clearing walk, in case they showed up. We couldn’t make work calls, unless they called. We waited. And while I waited, I decided to do a deep clean of the living room, where I could simultaneously look out the window, in case they showed up.
And guess what? I grabbed my cleaning stuff, put on up-beat music, and got to it. For about 45 minutes, I sprayed and scrubbed and swept and whistled and sung. The music calmed my mind, made the time go faster, and provided some order to my scattered mind. For that time, I was in the zone, and music absolutely helped.
Eventually, we heard from the police, who’d look out for her. Meanwhile, the City was anxiously awaiting the verdict on the murder of George Floyd, so we knew that the police focus was divided at best. We checked all our normal ways of seeing where our loved one was, including some internet sleuthing, and phone calling. Eventually we travelled downtown, their default destination, and drove around for about an hour, up one street and down the next. Nothing.
So we returned home, and tried to continue with our day-job work, albeit distractedly. By mid-afternoon, our loved one called to explain they were fine, that they’d needed a holiday so they’d gone to a Hilton Hotel, and were planning to stay there until their money ran out. Thanks, stimulus check. When the money ran out, they’d return to our house, but they were resting, and away from prying eyes. They had to quickly get off the phone at one point, because they had an appointment to go to the pool. Hmm.
We aren’t exactly sure what is going on, where they are, or when or how they’re planning on returning. But they called us, and that is huge. That shows two important things. First they understood they should call someone to check in, that they’re part of a society or system that does have some expectations. Even bigger than this is that they called us. Despite the name calling, and the allegations, they know we are their people. We are in their corner.
Meanwhile, our house is quieter, and last night I slept well and long. Sometime in the next few days we expect another call, with the next installment of this current saga. In the meantime, I will work, with the radio on, humming away.
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