"I Sing Because I'm Happy" Measure 3: The Meaning of Music [GUEST BLOG]

Here's Brewer's third installment of his five part series on music entitled "I Sing Because I'm Happy."  

As we’ve previously discussed, it is the meaning of music that it difficult to place in strict naturalism. A belief in God not only gives meaning to music, but to beauty itself. As something inherent in His very nature, we would expect this meaning to be written on all of reality. The meaning, as Lewis points out, to major and minor scales, to chord progressions, and that indescribable, warm intimacy that musicians and singing congregations often find themselves in, was not given to the notes “by chance, or skill, or long tradition, but truly inherent in them as the shape of the great Sun is inherent in the little waterdrop,” as if entire worlds could be founded upon the sound of one note on the piano.

“In the darkness something was happening at last. A voice had begun to sing. It was very far away and Digory found it hard to decide from what direction it was coming. Sometimes it seemed to come from all directions at once. Sometimes he almost thought it was coming out of the earth beneath them. Its lower notes were deep enough to be the voice of the earth herself. There were no words. There was hardly even a tune. But it was, beyond comparison, the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. It was so beautiful he could hardly bear it.” – C. S. Lewis, The Magician’s Nephew & Page CXVI

“Then the voices of the Ainur, like unto harps and lutes, and pipes and trumpets, and viols and organs, and like unto countless choirs singing with words, began to fashion the theme of Ilúvatar to a great music; and a sound arose of endless interchanging melodies woven in harmony that passed beyond hearing into the depths and into the heights, and the places of the dwelling of Ilúvatar were filled to overflowing, and the music and the echo of the music went out into the Void, and it was not void. Never since have the Ainur made any music like to this music, though it has been said that a greater still shall be made before Ilúvatar by the choirs of the Ainur and the Children of Ilúvatar after the end of days. Then the themes of Ilúvatar shall be played aright, and take Being in the moment of their utterance, for all shall then understand fully his intent in their part, and each shall know the comprehension of each, and Ilúvatar shall give to their thoughts the secret fire, being well pleased.” – J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion

Great art does not hit you over the head with a simple message, but communicates that there is a greatness about life. It fills with hope, gives strength, and moves. Even if a naturalistic perspective is taken regarding art (that “beauty” is simply a hard-wired perception or the significance of music is only illusion – that truth, justice, good, evil are also illusions) in the presence of art or even great natural beauty, our hearts tell us another story: “…before the face of beauty we know better.” Goethe calls this selige sehnsucht, or “blessed longing.” We not only feel the reality of the beauty but also the absence of what we long for. As our RUF intern Matthew Trexler puts it, when we encounter true beauty, we find ourselves wanting to be a part of it – to step into it.