Which comes first, the music or the music theory? I love this video, not just for its cleverness, but because it is symbolic of a conflict which keeps showing up in my life.

Music or music theory?

Story or grammar and spelling?

Photos or apertures and shutter speeds?

Art or value and colour theory?

At the moment this is the question that threatens friendships between people I love:  Is correct practice (orthopraxy) and knowledge of correct doctrine (orthodoxy) equally important?

Dare I say no without upsetting amateur and professional theologians everywhere?

Probably not, but I’m going to say it anyway.

Notice I did not say doctrine is unimportant! I am saying just as there are those who can produce wonderful music who don’t know a leading note from a submediant, there are many fine followers of Christ who can produce the melodies and harmonies of the love of Jesus Christ without knowing soteriology from eschatology. For them the “music” is intuitive. They feel it, they live it, they experience it, they move to it.

Alas, having a firm grasp of music theory does not necessarily result in beautiful music. Although I appreciate the clear enunciation of the singer in this video (sorry, dude) he’s no Pavarotti or Mario Lanza, neither of whom were music-reading, sight-singing wizards. (The rumour that Pav couldn’t read music was apparently false; he just didn’t read as quickly as some.)

I admit musicians who cannot read music, or who do not understand music theory are at a disadvantage. Even the brilliant Sir Paul McCartney admitted to that when he needed help translating his Liverpool Oratorio into written form. My mother, who never had the advantage of music lessons, could play classical piano music like Liszt’s Liebestraum  by ear. The problem was that she got the rhythm wrong in the same spot for years. It drove me nuts, but I could not prove to her that the composer didn’t intend it to be played that way from the score, because the score was “a bunch of chicken scratches” to her. I finally learned to leave her to enjoy making music the way she liked it. It wasn’t as if she was passing her version on to anyone else, but the problem with not being familiar with written music meant that she could not easily check to see if her orthopraxy lined up with orthodoxy.

This is the problem some gung-ho Christians have when they have not taken the time or applied the self-discipline necessary to know the scriptures. They tend to neglect checking that all their practices line up with the Bible. They are dependent on others to study and learn the material for them first, either to teach them on a deeper level, or to bring correction when some ideas are off. The whole area of correction is awkward for both the receiver and the giver, like it was for Mom’s Liebestraum and me (or for my granddaughter and my French. She’s been in a French immersion school and she asked me not to speak French to her because she was “only a little girl, and it was embarrassing to have to correct an adult’s French.”)

Even though I hated music theory  (it was so time-consuming and lacked immediate reward –and I was lazy) I learned it –sort of. I first studied the UK terminology through Trinity College of London, then had to learn different words when I changed to the North American system for the Royal Conservatory. (Also typical of academics is the tendency for each school to develop and defend their own vocabulary.)

On the other hand, after years of having musical creativity squashed by the reigning pedagogy of the time, I could only play written music, without variation, as the composer intended. It wasn’t until I tossed a lot of rigid music theory out of my head that I was free to improvise and compose my own music. (Although I still worry about not doing it “right.”) Sadly I was nearly in my mid-twenties before I sang for audiences  who came to concerts simply to enjoy themselves and who were not (for the most part) examiners, adjudicators, master class experts, critics, concert masters, directors or worse – rival’s mothers. Most of them didn’t care if I was 1/16^th late on an entry –and not one of them ever asked me a question on music theory. All they wanted was to hear the music performed by someone with skill who could feel it from the heart. Their generous response shocked me.

Now music theory does have its own kind of beauty. The circle of fifths has a God’s-in-his-heaven-and-all’s-right-with–the-world sense of mathematical satisfaction to it in the same way the Fibonacci sequence keeps showing up as a basic pattern in art and nature. But you can’t dance to the circle of fifths, and unless it is interpreted in shapes and colours the Fibonacci sequence is just a bunch of numbers on a page and not something you would hang over the fireplace. Well most of us, anyway.

Here is my problem: I have spent many years in the company of academics from many fields. They are all smarter than I am. They understand the theory of music, or art, or physics –or theology for that matter – much better than I ever will. Argument and debate is the standard method of refining their theories. (The pages of comments under this video on the YouTube site are a great example of how argument over details and games of intellectual king of the hill lead people further and further away from the point of enjoying Mel Tormé’s song.)  I believe many very capable people who actually also “do the stuff” gain an even deeper appreciation for their art from their study of theory. Alas, it becomes so easy, when ego is involved, for some to give greater weight to doctrinal debate as though the brain is the highest authority and seminary-trained, intellectually gifted people are on the upper echelons of a two tiered Christianity. I don’t think the study of doctrine and the here and now practical demonstration of the heart of God are of equal importance; it is not a matter of balance. It is possible to be doctrinally correct and miss the whole point of the beauty of relationship. Jesus saved his most scathing criticisms for religious experts whose neat rows of doctrinal ducks didn’t make very pretty music.

Intelligence is a gift to be appreciated, developed and used. God didn’t give us brains to leave them on the night-table. Doctrine is important. The Bible is essential; it keeps people tethered to truth. But without the Truth, Christ and his love, living inside a person, and without a person living in Christ, it’s all a gong show.

 Yes, we know that “we all have knowledge” about this issue. But while knowledge makes us feel important, it is love that strengthens the church. (1 Corinthians 8:1b)

Edited to add: Whilst writing this blog the sound system on my computer heaved a sigh and waved goodbye. I fiddled with it, but I didn’t have a clue how to fix it. A student offered to look at it for me. After performing a diagnostic scan on my computer with amazing prowess he got down on his hands and knees and checked the wires. “Here’s your problem,” he said. “Green wire goes into green, not pink.”

Theoretical knowledge knew what to look for, but practical hands fixed it. We have music! Love it. I owe you one, Cam.

Also edited to add: Haha.I just read this quote on Facebook.

People are not interested in something theoretical. The thing that always convinces people is reality. If they see there is something about our lives, a certain quality, a certain calmness and equanimity, the ability to be more than conquerors in every kind of circumstance, if they see that when everything is against us, we will triumphantly prevail whereas they do not, they will become interested in what we have. They will want to know more about it. I am convinced, therefore, that the greatest need today is Christian people who know and manifest the fact that they know the living God, to whom His “loving-kindness is better than life.”

Martyn Lloyd-Jones (Seeking Certainty) (And Doc Martyn certainly knew his Bible!)