Have you ever heard a piece of music, read a poem or story or seen a piece of art that moved you so deeply you felt you knew exactly what the deeper meaning was that the composer, writer or artist was trying to express?
Maria Schneider is a New York City-based jazz composer and leader of the Maria Schneider Orchestra, which is widely considered to be one of the most significant and influential big bands in contemporary jazz. To me, her music sounds like jazz orchestral soundscapes that kind of paint sonic pictures.
One of my favorite pieces of hers is called “Hang Gliding.” My brother introduced me to it years ago and after I first heard it, I listened to it nonstop for a while. It’s incredibly beautiful, and through my repeated listenings, I came to hear the piece as a musical expression of someone “hang gliding” over their life at the end of it and looking back on what was truly important.
I remember emailing back and forth with my brother about the piece 20 years ago. In my mind, I had worked out how each section of the music represented a different stage or season of life, how the way the instruments interacted with each other represented the importance of community and the need for each diverse voice within it; how the contrasts in dynamics and textures represented the ups and downs of life; how the form of the piece represented a recognition of the cyclical nature of life; how the piece beginning and ending with the same material was a musical representation of “ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
Well, my brother wrote me back with a link to an interview from NPR’s All Things Considered where Maria Schneider explained the piece was literally written about her experience hang gliding in Rio di Janeiro. She was simply trying to recreate the feeling of flying in the sound and implement some harmonic and rhythmic aspects of Brazilian music, not necessarily represent the course of a life.
“I felt a little ridiculous for having read so much into it.”
I felt a little ridiculous for having read so much into it, and listening back to the piece again, her description of her own composition obviously made sense. I still like my interpretation, though, and how it helped work through some things in my own spiritual life at a time when I was clearly searching for meaning.
That piece of music really connected with me on a deeper level, and I still hear it the same way when I listen to it today. Of course, I can completely see the actual hang gliding and hear the Brazilian influences now too, and I appreciate how her explanation has added to my understanding of the piece.
Recently on the Christian calendar, we celebrated Jesus’ baptism, a significant time in the church year for remembering and renewing our baptismal promises and commitments, reflecting on our identity as image-bearing children of God and members of the body of Christ, and recommitting to following the way of Jesus. It’s a call to remember the grace of our own baptism and to say “yes” again to embracing a lifelong journey of living out Christ’s love through the cooperative work of a God of justice.
On this Baptism of the Lord Sunday, the Hebrew Bible reading from the lectionary included one of Isaiah’s Servant Songs. Christians often have heard this song in a very particular way, but it’s quite possible the author had a different meaning in mind — like my hearing of Schneider’s music and her original intent.
Christian interpreters historically look back to Isaiah to understand when the Lord would reveal the Messiah. Isaiah is often referred to as the “fifth gospel” because it is so crucial for prophecy of Jesus as Messiah. The authors of the Gospels are constantly using the central narrative of their faith to interpret what’s happening, looking back to Isaiah to make sense of who Jesus was.
“It’s clear that as people encountered Jesus and his ministry, they remembered Isaiah.”
It’s clear that as people encountered Jesus and his ministry, they remembered Isaiah. Matthew refers to Isaiah far more extensively and explicitly than the other Gospels, framing Jesus’ life and ministry as the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecies of a Messiah.
In Matthew 3 — where Jesus is baptized, anointed with the Holy Spirit and announced as God’s Beloved — traditional Christian theology sees Isaiah foreshadowing Jesus as God’s chosen servant. In Matthew 12, the author specifically refers to Jesus as the servant from Isaiah’s prophecy who will bring justice with patience and persistence.
Jewish interpreters typically view things differently and do not view Jesus as the fulfilment of Isaiah’s messianic prophecy. One of the differences of interpretation is whether Isaiah prophesies a coming individual or a community.
In many Jewish interpretations, there is a communal understanding of the servant as representing the nation of Israel. In fact, Israel is named as God’s servant in the previous chapter and in another of the Servant Songs in chapter 49.
Today, we should ask who is the “you” being called to seek justice, to be the light of the world. Is there a communal aspect to this calling?
In the best of our Baptist traditions, baptism is both an individual act and a communal act.
Baptist and church historian Bill Leonard says the practice of believers’ baptism “becomes the outward and visible sign of a believers’ church.” It means some kind of personal conversion and regeneration is necessary, as Baptist churches see themselves to be “communit(ies) of believers who can testify to an experience of grace through Jesus Christ.”
Jesus’ baptism marks the beginning of his public ministry, and our baptisms likewise represent the personal choice to accept God’s call to use our individual lives and gifts to follow in that ministry of justice that’s defined by humility, patience, perseverance and resilience.
“Baptisms also are meaningful events for the entire church body, serving as a rite of initiation into the community.”
But baptisms also are meaningful events for the entire church body, serving as a rite of initiation into the community. The congregation affirms and makes important commitments to the person being baptized, promising to support them in their faith journey and help them to grow spiritually.
In Matthew’s account, Jesus’ baptism into the family of faith displays his solidarity with humanity. Our own baptisms similarly represent a joining and welcoming into the family of God and the cooperative work of a God of justice.
Later in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus expands the community in the lead-up to his Sermon on the Mount, where he tells his disciples they are the light of the world. As church communities comprised of many diverse members, we are collectively called to be God’s servants to the world and participate in God’s new thing.
In remembering our baptisms, we re-member ourselves within the body of Christ. We are reminded that each of our own unique gifts are necessary in living out our call to serve together in community.
Today, the endless stream of injustices being perpetuated by those in power and the total disregard for human life leaves no time for spiritual exhaustion. Not when so many of our neighbors are still being continually plunged into and held in the darkness of oppression, and not when so many of our neighbors are still so blind to injustice.
When we remember our baptisms and the promises we’ve made to God, ourselves and each other, we should be revived by the support we have in community. Our baptisms are personal statements of faith that call us to love and serve others.
We are not gliding through life alone. Instead, we are called and committed to being God’s servants, living out Christ’s love by doing all we can to bring the light of justice to the world.
Christian McIvor serves as minister of worship, music and the arts at Greystone Baptist Church in Raleigh, N.C.


