God’s Troubadour
Apostolic Adventures . Dr. Gary Straub. Meadow@StMatthews. Pentecost 1987
Back in the 70’s… you DO remember the 70’s…right? In ‘77, I was called to serve as Sr Minister. I had one whole year of job experience under my belt, but already felt totally plowed under—-—deflated, defeated, discouraged. What do you DO when you don’t know what to do? I signed up for Summer School, and trudged off to Princeton; which is not American’s oldest seminary, but humbly brags about being the best endowed.
So I SPENT summer school sojourning among Presbyterians in NEW JOISEY! As I walked to Miller Chapel for Vespers, the sky glowed in the gloaming of a glorious sunset. However, I was not “glowing in the gloaming!” I was gutted and gloomy—just burned out, burned up and bumfuzzled. Diagnosis: triple OVERload. I served an old downtown church in Chattanooga, where the glacier pace of change was soul-killing. This slow waltz—was not a CHA-CHA—because some grumpy elders played GOTCHA! Even my infectious, effervescent, ebullient, enthusiasm — got crushed. I was enthused out! You can only try so hard, so long, and then… poof! So I sat in Chapel like a lump of burned up anthracite— a total cinder!
Listening to 300 Presbyterians sing thru their hymnal in 4-part harmony opened my heart a smidgeon. Next, some old NYC preacher—looked like Rev. Rip Van Winkle—stepped to the pulpit in an atrociously rumpled suit. Looked like he just jumped off the train & forgot his preaching robe. He looked tired— HA—looked like me! His lack of sartorial splendor impressed me— but not in a good way! Tho’ tauted as a Billy Graham of the Mainline Church— I never heard of him! All I could think about was: ICE CREAM! After vespers, Disciples walked down to THOMAS SWEET SHOP to brag, beef; then commiserate and collaborate over 54 flavors. In order to enjoy that, I had to endure whatever the wrinkled rev was serving up.
He started slow. Mumbled about his theme being medieval—some jumbo-mumbo that likened ministry to a traveling minstrel. I groaned— How much of this muckity-murky turkey talk could I take!? Just then, Rev Wrinkle blurted: all ministry boils down to being a troubadour! HUH? He proceeded to “OUT—wik” WIKIPEDIA, telling how troubadours were wandering minstrels—super stars with witty/winsome ways to make audiences laugh; lifting spirits as they sang/danced—making hilarious merriment to buoy listeners spirits—maybe even exorcise a few souls! Troubadours travelled town-to-town —joked, poked fun, told riddles and rhymes— till they got a guffaw. Next, they elbowed out a chuckle & kept blasting out merriment till folks could lighten up and laugh at themselves — and hopefully—laugh WITH— not AT— one another again. With the laughter comes the lifting. Have you ever been LIFTED by laughter??
About these traveling troubadours… They entered a village to mostly listen to the tone and attitude>> read the mood—- then they’d take the tune/tone they heard and sing it back—make melody & merriment out of common complaints. They simply sang back the people’s own song. They echoed the sorrows, and then sang a song of life & death, of love & longing, of exultations and excruciating loss, hymns to humble victories, songs of hilarity and hope. The aim of their music was therapy. Gospel therapy. To sing someone’s song back to them helps loosen them up so they can sing again and eventually be drawn irresistibly back into the Song of Life. Troubadours sang till folks could hear their song echoing back, and in that echo be drawn back into life & love—drawn back to longing, healing & hope.
These troubadours discovered the shortest distance between souls: laughter. In the words of the eminent theologian, Karl Barth: Laughter is SHORTEST distance between 2 souls , and THE CLOSEST we can EVER come to the sheer Grace of God.
That night in chapel, Rev Wrinkle taught me: ministry is just LEANING IN AND LISTENING AND LEARNING someone else’s song—then singing their song of life/death, love/longing —singing their song back to them till they can sing their own song again and be drawn back into blessing and embrace life anew.
By the way: this is the ministry Paul learned as he landed in the dirt, gutted in the gutter, kicked to the curb to die by the side of the road outside Lystra . (Acts 14)
Can you hear Paul’s heart song? A song of tragedy and triumph? An overture above the heartbreak! An anthem of Alleluia Anyway! Here’s a hymn to the Holy Spirit, who knows the human heart song! The Spirit sings just the song needed to heal a heart that’s stubborn and struggling. The refrain reverberates with resilience and resonance! NEXT thing —300 Presbyterians and a few odd Disciples are humming along enveloped in the sweet, sweet Spirit song. Its such a gift how God’s troubadours know the humbling hymns of the human heart. They sing them back —loud and strong —until folks can sing along strong—and in the echo find their way back home to God’s Heart.
I never got Rev Wrinkle’s real name—- but I got his song. He sang till my cynical soul was strangely warmed. My cindery heart got aglow! ALL THIS by the grace of GOD and just one Word: Troubadour. I found my HeartSong again. That old Rumpled Rev sang the song of Jesus’ Victory! How Christ’s tragedy turned inside out —transformed to Triumph. That summer nite I GOT a full readout on my new lifetime work assignment: BE a troubadour. Come alongside folks who are beat down/ broken down like Paul on Damascus roadside, or again—Paul outside Lystra’s gates. Ministry means coming alongside to sing the soul’s own song back — till they can sing again.
In the wake of the uncivil Civil War, Fanny Crosby served as America’s troubadour:
“Down in the human heart, crushed by the tempter, feelings lie buried that grace can restore.
Touched by a loving heart, wakened by kindness, chords that are broken…
will vibrate once more.
Crosby’s song is the same song Paul heard down in the dust of Damascus Road. By the miracle of grace— Paul’s broken heart reverberated a bit— as Barnabas and those distraught disciples surrounded the apostle’s broken body…. And HE GOT UP!
By the Lystra roadside, Paul learned to let the Lord do the heavy lifting. All we ever really do is hum along. Our part is only the echo. Doesn’t seem like much…
but God makes our echo enough… more than enough!
