Bluegrass music, not lawn seed.
For most of my life, if you had asked me how I felt about bluegrass, I would have said, “I have some of that mixed in with the dandelions in my lawn.”
“No. Bluegrass music.”
“You mean that banjo-y music hillbillies sing? Not for me, thanks.”
But then one day I watched the Coen Brothers’ movie, “O Brother Where Art Thou?” And fell in love with the soundtrack. “What is it?” Bluegrass. Well, I guess it’s for me.
Down to the river to pray.
There’s a scene in the movie where a crowd of people dressed in white streams down to the river for baptism, all singing, “I Went Down to the River to Pray.” One character is so moved by their singing and simple acts of faith that he jumps right in the river and asks the preacher to wash away his sins.
The scene reminds me of the crowd of people who came down to the Jordan River to be baptized by John.
Just simple people, hard-working people, not in control of the political affairs that dictated so much of their lives. But they could do this. They could go down to the river to pray, look at how they behave, repent of their sins, and be baptized. And trust in John the Baptist’s message of better days ahead.
I think that is the heart of what I call Bluegrass Spirituality. Simple faith. Simple actions. Seeking beautiful harmonies with God, nature, and others.
What is Bluegrass music?
Bluegrass music is a relatively new genre that arose in the 1940s. Bill Monroe is considered its father. It’s a fusion of country, jazz, gospel, spirituals, and folk music. It has a distinctive sound. Instrumentation is acoustic: fiddle, bass, mandolin, guitar, and banjo. Generally, there are no drums; the rhythm comes internally from how the song is played.
High Lonesome
Its distinctive sound is called “High Lonesome.” The instruments play lower notes down here, while the tenor harmonies are in a higher register. The effect is to create this yearning sound. High lonesome. I think all prayer and spirituality begins with high lonesomeness. A yearning from within for something better, and belonging. That’s where baptism comes in, that baseline affirmation that we belong to God, and the church community. Baptism reminds us of God’s promises to us and delight in life.
Tight harmonies
The tight harmonies of bluegrass remind us to be in harmony with each other. We don’t all have to sing the same note, think the same thoughts, or have the same experiences, but we can learn to listen to each other and blend in, and make something beautiful instead of competing all the time. Outdoing each other’s stories, one-upping on how great your grand-kid is, or how much better your opinion is than theirs. The beauty is in the blend, in voices that have been seasoned by experience, roughened by life, made authentic by struggle. Heaven doesn’t want a perfect choir; heaven wants honest voices willing to sing together through whatever comes.
Improvisation
Another hallmark of bluegrass is the improvisation—taking turns, letting each musician lead for a while before handing the melody over to the next player. The guitar takes the lead, then steps back for the banjo, then the fiddle. This isn’t chaos—it’s collaborative artistry. There’s a structure, a key everyone’s playing in, but within that framework, each person brings their unique voice to the shared song.
I think of how this works in our congregation. Carolyn improvises beautiful melodies of personal care. Julia riffs on social justice themes. Marilyn explores contemplative spirituality. Each of you gets your solo moments to improvise on the themes of faith, to find elements that speak to you and motivate you. We can be inspired by each other’s artistry while adding our own.
Sad yet hopeful lyrics
Generally, the lyrics aren’t as in-your-face, hostile, or despairing as a lot of the country music you might think of. While it recognizes the hardships of life, there isn’t a defeatist attitude or “Take this job and shove it,” sentiment. It usually winds up more hopeful.
Much of the hope comes from faith. Heaven is mentioned a lot. No matter how bad it is here, there is a promised better place. The community of support and care, relying on each other, gets stressed. I think it reminds us to keep things simple. To keep hoping. To look to God and find ways to support each other’s spirits with some toe-tapping spirituality.
As Richard Higgins, an occasional imbiber of Bluegrass music, wrote in The Christian Century,
They are songs, not sermons, about life’s pains and sorrows, such as the loss of loved ones, too much work, too little work, drink, worries about bills—and also about its joys, the good things that happen, family, the love of God and hope of being risen. They are truly American psalms, cries of lament and praise from hardscrabble rural corners of our country. They are set not to harp or lute, like the songs of David, but to banjo, fiddle, or mandolin. The fact that it isn’t proselytizing makes the beauty and earnest faith in them more palpable. https://www.christiancentury.org/first-person/southern-rail-s-gospel-music-journey
Toe-tapping Spirituality
Most of the time, there isn’t dancing with Bluegrass music. One wouldn’t want to unsettle the Kentucky Baptists, making them think something sinister was a foot. The rhythm comes from stringed instruments, not drums. There may not be dancing, but what there is a lot of is toe tapping.
You may or may not have things going your way. But you can tap your feet and, in times of sorrow, keep tapping. Foot tapping is an act of faith practiced by the body. Blogger Jay McDaniel said we should have foot-faith. It is a way of saying, “I’ll keep going, no matter what sorrows I face. I am animated by a deeper rhythm.”
Down to the River to Pray
So today we go down to the river to pray. To remember our baptism and be thankful that God is with us, God calls us, and we still have something to hope for. So let us pledge to keep it simple this week. Just trust and allow yourself to feel a little joy in the gathered community that seeks to make life a little more harmonious and beautiful.