Tradition meets improv...
Plus, 5 things worth sharing this week.
Hey Crashers,
What’s your go-to style of music? Do you like country, or is rock and roll more your jam? We listen to a lot of Worship music around our house, and lately, it seems that’s going a bit country. Would you agree?
What about Jazz? Where does that fit into the landscape of Christianity? In today’s edition, we’re encouraging you to think more broadly. And beyond Jazz itself, to the concept of improvisation. It’s needed whether you’re a musician, creative pastor, or poet!
Grace and Peace,
Cass & Rich
In today’s issue:
Some solid jazz to brighten your day,
A book to spark new ways,
A prompt to push you to improvise,
and more…
Forwarded this email? Sign up here.
Set the scene where you are right now and put on Miles Davis - “Kind of Blue”. It’s arguably the greatest jazz album ever recorded, or so says our friend who knows a thing or two about jazz! (LINK)
The edition was inspired by an episode of the Undeceptions podcast several of you sent us. It is called Jazz Church, and it is an interesting take on holding to past traditions while improvising in the present. (LINK)
Mark Glanville’s book, Improvising Church, will get your imagination soaring. Mark is a scholar, pastor and jazz musician. This incredible combo makes his book creative and thoughtful. (LINK)
Is Blues music the mother of all modern music? Check out this super interesting video about its origins and influence. The part about lyrics around 7 minutes in seems relevant for our lyrics in church music! (LINK)
Improvisation isn’t just for jazz musicians. But there are rules, as Tina Fay explains in this video about her book. Now, translate all that to how you relate to others in your church community. Turns out we can all use improv to move our faith forward! (LINK)
👉 ⏸️ 🇨🇦 ?
“PAUS Everything”
Use the code LANGTON500 for $500 off the price!!
(Please note: This is an affiliate link)
Question of the week…
Improvising Church: A Musical Approach to Christian Community
- By Cass Langton
From the time I was 4, I learned the piano. Every Saturday morning in Turramura, I would sit religiously at the instrument, plod away at the notes (and have a little apple cider to drink in a crystal glass). I practised seldom, could never master the theory, and desired to play more than I disciplined myself to be good. To say I was a natural would be an overstatement. Although I could play Bach, Mozart, and Chariots of Fire and Fur de Lise, my frequent mistakes and the wrong notes could not have been more obvious.