So in span of a week I played music at both a wedding and a funeral. It actually wasn’t the first or even second time that this has happened. In fact, I would venture to say that nothing has afforded me such a wide array of encounters as has being a musician. I’m not really sure what my expectations were the first time I picked up a musical instrument but I never imagined the many places it would take me.

I think as musicians we have been given a great responsibility. We play the march that ushers a bride down the aisle to her groom and we play the dirge that carries a man to his final resting place. We can make a crowd of 20,000 shout, clap, stomp, and shake the foundations of an arena and likewise, we can bring smiles, tears, and memories to a dozen seniors on a Thursday afternoon at a local retirement home. The music we play draws people together on a dark dance floor much in the same way it brings seekers to their respective houses of worship. The singers of songs have long been the voice of both protest and of celebration. From the singing waiter to the famed tenor who performs at an opera house, the power of music (and those who wield it) is a persistent and unifying force.

I think of the gifts of our current line up and how each individual has blessed others with that gift. Each of them has worked hard to polish their respective craft and use it to bring joy to others. In the middle of the chaos of the lights and sound, the thundering of the drums, when the music has reached its peak, I sometimes look to my right to take in the sight of the four individuals I am sharing the stage with. Things kind of slow down and I wonder if they know what they are a part of. They are the music makers. They are the keepers of the light. They stir something in the people and it is something beautiful to behold.