If all they received from the shepherd is what they wanted, the flock would splinter and wander in all directions: All we like sheep. He leads the flock to good grazing land, but he also has to keep them together and on track. The shepherd gives the sheep what they want, but more importantly, he gives them what they need, like it or not. Sure, the rod and staff give comfort in protection from harm, but they also dispense discipline.
The shepherd's staff after all has a crooked end to restrain a sheep that has gone the wrong way. They also are used to keep the sheep in line. They are used by the shepherd as weapons to keep harm from his flock. The shepherd's rod and staff have two purposes. Let's read a bit farther along in the Psalm 23: "Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." If we are to be "pastoral" church musicians, does that mean that we are nothing more than ecclesiastic house boys who happen to read music?Īs a witty colleague of mine once quipped, "Ganymede, I ain't." Now that's pastoral: I want it, so I get it.īut is this really what "being pastoral" should be? One has only to part his lips and a baked chicken lands in his mouth. There is a medieval German legend about a wonderful place like this. Unfortunately for most who define the "pastoral" musician's attitude in media and workshops, this is often where the image ends: I want – the shepherd gives. The twenty-third Psalm is a thumbnail image of all this: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.He makest me to lie down in green pastures.beside the still waters.repose." Lambs frolic as the shepherd plays his pipe beneath a sprawling shade tree.
In fact, literature through the ages, both religious and secular, offers descriptions of the pastoral. The Roman poet Virgil describes in vivid imagery the pastoral life in the Eclogues. The Western tradition informs our perception of "shepherding." The immediate and simplest answer is this: to act like a shepherd, to shepherd the flock. Who would pay money to attend a Common Sense Workshop? We can attend a "workshop" to become pastoral. In plain English, it's trendy to be "pastoral." The problem with these old fashioned terms is that they don't really set anyone apart. In the old days, we just called it "common sense" or even "street sense." It is a product of the pervasive modern double-talk mentality, the fondness to perceive as utterly complex something rather pedestrian. Nowadays we stumble across this concept in written media, at seminars, conferences, and sometimes even at parish staff meetings: the necessity to act "pastorally." One may demonstrate a virtuosic keyboard technique, but, for example, if he is unable to determine what is beneficial for his department or if he can not maintain order at a choir rehearsal or make best use of the allotted time for choir preparation, his work as a music director is ineffective.Ĭritics (frequently music directors themselves) and liturgists will often pose a curious question to music directors: "Do you think you are a 'pastoral musician'?"īetter yet, this: "Do you think you act 'pastorally'?" Not only must a church musician know his craft and work to develop it daily, he must also function as an executive of sorts, making decisions and striking plans that will allow his department to flourish and grow. Not just directing other musicians, but directing and administrating a music department. The role of a good Church music director does not only encompass that of the artist perfecting his craft for the benefit of his congregation.īesides the obvious day to day business, our very title implies much more: direction. This essay, which appeared on 29 December 2005 in the weblog Christus Vincit, is reprinted here with the kind permission of the author, Jason Pennington. The "Pastoral Musician" A True Shepherd or the Thief at the Gate?
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