Editor's note: Dr. York has graciously provided this manuscript, from which he spoke during our conference. It is the first of two addresses (see index for the second address). There may be differences in this text as compared to the actual delivery (audio file download above).

Prayer: “My gracious Master and my God, assist me to proclaim, to spread through all the earth abroad, the honors of Thy name.” Amen.

There is no way I can describe how my heart stretches toward you this morning. My dear sisters and brothers in Christ and the call, I greet you this morning in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. The Lord is with you.

I come before you humbled by the grace of the invitation and bowed low by the weight of the responsibility. I take great comfort in the fact that Wendell will be speaking today and tomorrow as well. He and I are going to be a “tag team” of sorts. We have not talked with each other about our presentations, but both of us have talked to the Holy Spirit and to Richard Suggs and the two of them will keep the two of us from bumping in to each other. I have every confidence our remarks will dovetail nicely.
This morning and tomorrow afternoon, I will be “Thinking Out Loud” about spiritual formation for a conference, a group such as ours in a time such as this. I will throw in some “what ifs” along the way.

I look at the theme of this year’s conference and think, “For Such a Time as This," indeed. We gather, somewhat numb. We are no longer surprised by anything that was, at one time, unthinkable. We are tired from grieving and we’re tired of grieving. We find ourselves in small groups, conversing in lowered voices, attempting to confirm rumors of loss, assess damage and take roll. We do not want to hurt anyone’s feelings, rock any boats needlessly, or put any of our sisters or brothers in compromising positions. But the ground beneath our feet trembles. Something is amiss. But the root of it all may not be as obvious as we would like to think.

Our first response is to place blame. Our next response is to console ourselves by admitting that change is inevitable. Once-strong structures sway, vocabularies change, and we are no longer connected to the very things that once established our identity as church musicians.

“Who is still among us?” we ask as the list of our mentors who have passed on grows longer? “What is still firm beneath our feet, given the quaking of our traditional places to stand?” “Where is the path before us, given the change of the landscape all around us?”

It is to weep, but not for long, for our tears must not become our chains. We have a sacred legacy, a sacred trust, and a divine call for which we share the stewardship responsibility. We share this responsibility with each other and, I might add, with many who are not present at this conference. But, we are here and we do share the responsibility for such a time as this. We must get our bearings and getting our bearings, I would suggest, is not a musical matter, it is a spiritual matter. My assignment today and tomorrow is to speak of this spiritual matter of getting our bearings, to think out loud about regaining perspective, on a community level.

In such a time as this, we must return to home base, to the basics, so that we might venture out again with the same confidence we once had, if not the same opportunities. My brothers and sisters in Christ and ministry through music, ours was never a call to victory, never. But, in moving from victory unto victory in our heyday, we seemed to have lost our way. Now that the sun has set on much that was dear to us, we grieve and grope in a sort of twilight. Evidence that we have lost our way is to be seen in the fact that we whisper of defeat, loss. Defeat is linked to victory, not to obedience. “For Christ, count everything as loss! We used to know and sing that song (There’s a Royal Banner).

The extent to which we have lost our way can be measured in terms of how long it takes us to turn our heads from looking back to looking forward once again. We look back and weep. Jesus weeps with us, but not necessarily for the same reasons. We must not give the Shepherd cause to weep because of our wandering. We will explore this line of thinking more closely tomorrow afternoon.

In such a time as this, it is to weep, but not for long, for the Eternal King leads on. As he leads us on, we cannot help but notice that some whose names we do not know are being led to stand where we once stood. In response we adopt a “we” and “them” mentality. But such division ignores a fact that is tougher than their new opportunities, and our new frustrations.

The tough fact is that we need each other. We need each other, not to obtain victory, but to exercise obedience to our Lord and to be His church. To whom does Amazing Grace belong? It will be in both new hymnals encountered in our conference. Does Amazing Grace belong to those who call it a traditional hymn or to those who call it a folk hymn? A silly divide, isn’t it? Both sides need amazing grace in their books and in their hearts.

We have come to accept the fact that things change, but I beginning to wonder if things don ’t pretty much stay the same, and it’s the players that change. I say that, because the deep, foundational, important things never change.

As contemporary worship rediscovers choirs they need us. As composers of modern worship songs rediscover hymnody, they need us. Shall we be weeping when they call? Shall we be looking back as they approach unseen pitfall in the path ahead--pitfalls we managed to climb out of and bridge over? We may not be asked to lead a choral workshop as a big contemporary worship conference, but a young contemporary worship leader in your town might need a few pointers from you. Do you know his name? Does he know you can and will help?

My sisters and brothers, there has been loss and regrettable deconstruction, but it is not our end, it is our newest and perhaps greatest challenge. It is the challenge of teaching without saying I told you so and of being taught without feeling resentment. Yes, being taught. I didn’t understand the contemporary culture even when I was young. I sure don’t understand it now. I may need to be in conversation with young contemporary worship leaders who can teach me the depths and insights and nuances of electronic communication technology and virtual communities. By listening and learning, I may be able to contribute to the conversation by reminding my new friend that virtual means “not real” and how important being real is in ministry. I need to add to the list of those I call teacher folks younger than I and, more adventuresome than I. I need teachers who perhaps don’t know what the Chuck Wagon and the Nibble-Nook are. I assume they could figure out the significance of the Prayer Gardens.

We need each other. Those of us in this room need each other, yes, but it is equally as true that at a very deep level and in a very deep way, we in this room need those who are not in this room.  We need each other and we all need God.

Why do some of our dear brother and sisters gather in meetings like the “Metros” and “Polyphony"? Why are we here and not there? Why are they there and not here? Did we not boast at one time or another that the divides in the Southern Baptist Convention were a preacher thing, but we were musicians and nothing could separate us?

Just thinking out loud and nothing more, I’ll share an idea in the context of us needing each other. Now, the fact  that I have an idea is not a big deal. I’ve had ideas before and more have fizzled than have skyrocketed. For every Worthy of Worship idea I have had there have been a dozen or more Leap, Baby, Leap ideas. If you don’t know the song Leap, Baby, Leap that’s okay, it makes my point. The title tells you all you need to know about that song.

The fact is, the idea I want to think out loud about concerns the title of our organization. I’m referring to the letters SBCMC and what they stand for. 
I can hear your thoughts, “Oh no, hear it comes. I work at LifeWay, I’d better leave. He’s going to talk about the ‘S’ in SBCMC.” No, that’s not the letter that concerns me. The “S” in SBCMC will take of itself.

Imagine up behind me in big bright neon, the letters SBCMC. Though its not the letter I want us to focus on, the big “S” is flickering. I mean look at this promotion piece we received through the mail: to find out more about the Baptist Church Music Conference (BCMC), go to the email address, www.SBCMC.org. Now  you see it, now you don’t. Whether the neon light in the big “S” goes our or comes back on in full strength and bright shinning, we need each other.

In the big SBCMC, it’s the “M” that has my attention. I’m concerned with the big “M” because we need each other and we need God. The “M” stands for “Music.” And it music has either divided us, or has been symbolic of our division for a long time. Just thinking out loud, I’m wondering, What if the big “M” stood not for “music,” but, rather, for “MusicianS”…the bszzzt bzzzt Baptist Church Musicians Conference?

As it is, with our music as our focus, Baptist church musicians are divided, and have been for as long as I have been a member of this organization, and I was enlisted by Peter Butler at Glorieta more than thirty years ago. With “music” as our focus we separate ourselves according to whether we play organs or guitars or whether we hold microphones or batons. We are, after all, the church music conference and our music has come to define us, in spite of some valiant attempts to be inclusive. Its ironic, but we do, to a significant degree, identify, group, and segregate ourselves according to our music. Our music has divided us or at least what our music has come to symbolize has separated us, and I can think of no sadder irony.

Paul spoke of psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, not psalms, hymns, or spiritual songs. And Jesus never talked about any of that as far as we know. It may well be that Jesus sang only psalms. What are we going to do with that my musical Christ-follower colleagues? We’ve almost given up singing the only thing we know for sure Jesus sang. I know the scripture says “After they had sung a hymn,” but we have reason to believe it was a portion of the great “Hallel,”  Psalms 113-118. Jesus had more important things on his mind and heart. The night before he died he prayed that his followers (and that includes musicians) would be one (John 17). “Make my followers one,” he prayed.

What might it mean if we were the church musicians conference, rather than the church music conference? Such a name change could bring about a change of heart concerning how we look at each other and how we hear each other. Our music would not get in the way.  

With chord charts, oratorio scores, microphones, and batons checked at the sanctuary door, like guns checked at the saloon door in an old cowboy movie, we could all enter this sacred place and sacred time with the sacred purpose of growing closer in Christ and with Christ. We need each other and we need God and that may well be the extent of our actual need list.

If our music is going to divide us or be used to divide us, and it has for a long time, then let’s change our focus and invite some new folks to a new gathering. Let us gather as Christ-followers called into unity by Christ himself. Let us gather as God-created, God-called, God-gifted, musicians, acknowledging that we need each other and we need our God even more than we need music.

Only recently has the “S” in SBCMC served to separate the sons and daughters of Jubal and of Jesus;  the big “M” was separating us long before the big “S” did. Before the regrettable theo-political split of the SBC, the SBCMC had the reputation of gathering around music of a particular sort for churches of a particular sort, whether the reputation was deserved.

What if --just thinking out loud, now--what if we, God’s church musicians, gathered not based on the type of praise we are willing to offer, but, rather, based on the need we were willing to confess? We need each other and we need God. Microphones and batons, organs and guitars, scores and charts, gray hair, dyed hair, no hair, spiked hair be, well, be darned!

Imagine with me a gathering of the chiefs. By that, I mean, a gathering of all living past SBCMC presidents and the president newly elected. Imagine them gathering  to discuss the possibility of the Music Conference becoming the Musicians Conference and that conference giving two years of its meetings solely to Bible study and prayer. What if there was no music planned for two years in a row, maybe for a shorter number of days per meeting, with the only music taking place being the songs that would rise, unplanned and unbidden from the Bible study and prayer taking place?

What if musicians, no matter age or worship style, were specifically and humbly invited to and looked forward to attending the church musicians conference, not for the music that would be there, but for musicians who would be there reading scripture, listening to scripture, praying the scripture, praying for each other, perhaps without one song being sung, lest the sweet fellowship be broken into groups of those who knew the song and those who didn’t?

Things change: methods, styles, and perhaps even the reasons for gathering. Some things never change: things like the fact that we need each other and the fact that we need God.

“Fall in!” Its one of the most frequently shouted commands in the U.S. Marine Corps. “Fall in” is short for “Fall into formation.” It means that everyone who is in ear-shot needs to line up and listen. Formation; it is that alignment that places you in relationship to each other and to the one giving the command. The person in charge has something to say and he or she wants everyone to get into proper formation to hear it.

When Marines fall into formation, they immediately orient themselves in relation to each other and to the one giving the command. (Dress right or Dress left) This is basic. It is the first step toward accomplishing a common mission. When church musicians fall into formation, we should immediately orient ourselves in relation to each other and to God. We need each other and we need God.

I look out across this auditorium and I see people who I need in my life and ministry. It is all of you, each of you. I mean that.

I don’t know when I first learned it. Maybe it was when Jim Woodward died. I thought I needed his showmanship, I surely enjoyed it. But what I miss is sitting with him in rocking chairs on the front porch of the Oklahoma Baptist University cabin at Glorieta, drinking lemonade and having wonderful conversation. Far more important to me than his showmanship was his friendship.

Maybe I learned it when David Danner died. I thought I needed his compositions. His compositions were Mozartian in the care he took with each note. And oh, how he studied scripture as he wrote book and lyrics for musicals. But, what I miss is the echo of his laugh and memories of the invitations for my family to come over and have a cookout dinner with his family in order to try out one of his new barbeque sauce receipts. His friendship was far more important than his compositions.

I thought I needed the Church Music Department of the Baptist Sunday School Board to be forever what it was. As that organization has changed and I have changed, the most important part of what it was is still with me. It was the people. My life and ministry were enriched and shaped by the persons--well, most of them, no, each of them--who comprised what we called the CMD, what others called simply “Nashville.” There still are persons there.

I thought I needed Ridgecrest and Glorieta Church Music Weeks to be forever what they were. My, my, my, what experiences we had as we made music together for an entire week. But what I treasure most about those weeks is what it meant to see sisters and brothers in Christ and the call greeting each other for the first time since last year and delighting in the fact that they would have a week together of relaxation… and, oh yes, some good music. But the gatherings (we knew it then, and we for sure know it now) the gatherings were glorious because of the people. You see, we need each other and together, we need God.

I thought I needed choral music and the sanctuary choir to be forever what it used to be in the life, work, and identity of the minister of music. But what was so Spirit-filled was the sense of family and community in Christ, the rehearsals and chats in the parking lot after choir on Wednesday nights, the ministering to each other. It was and is about the people, the persons. We need each other, first and foremost, even when we’ve gathered around wonderful music.

I thought I needed seminary training to be forever what it was in the 1970’s and 1980’s. Those were Spirit-drenched days of learning and maturing. Over the years I’ve come to understand that those days were precious and formative and foundational to a large extent because of the persons who taught me and the persons who sat next to me in class and choirs.

The change and tears we have experienced over the last few years and days has served to teach us again that we need each other. It’s always been true. We need each other and we need God. Those who stand where we once stood need us and we who stand in places new to us, need them. We all need God.

Peter had to snap out of his grieving and get back to work. You remember the scene in scripture where Jesus and Peter are having an important conversation. It is in this scene that I most identify with the Apostle Peter. It’s the breakfast scene in which the risen Savior has asked Peter three times if he loves him. Peter, deeply and eternally grateful for this painful chance to make things right says, three times, “Lord, you know I love you.” Each of the times, you will remember, Jesus responded with “Feed my sheep.”                 

Then this exchange took place. Hear the word of the Lord: John 21:18-22.   
 
Deans and their schools have changed. Directors and their departments and divisions have changed. Conference leaders and the experiences from which they teach have changed. The faces and names of the leaders of church music ministry have changed. The Baptist Hymnal 1991, in many churches, is now a magnificent doorstop.

What is that to you, Peter? Indeed, what is that to you, Terry?

The pendulum of church music ministry continues to swing to and fro, but our need for each other and God, never changes. Our God is a rock and the Holy Spirit continues to speak through God’s Holy Word, and Jesus still waits for us who follow him to be united, whatever the pain of it. And, my dear sisters and brothers, our call is still alive. Because of that, we still at new depths and in new ways need each other and we still need God.

Well, that’s enough thinking out loud for one morning. We’ll get together again tomorrow afternoon and think out loud about all this through the lens of pecans, paper-mache', and prayer.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, peace.

© 2009 Terry York

Dr. Terry York is Associate Professor of Christian Ministry and Church Music at Baylor University's George W. Truett Theological Seminary in Waco, Texas. He was the recipient of the Baptist Church Music Conference W. Hines Sims Award, 2009