Choir Practice at 7:00 PM Wednesday nights in the Choir Room
Lutheringer Practice 9:30 AM Sunday mornings in the Sanctuary
Lutheringer Practice 9:30 AM Sunday mornings in the Sanctuary
Choir practicing before service
Message From Ryan
Is Music Essential for Survival?
Have you ever wondered why music, specifically singing, exists? Is it more like dessert – something that brings pleasure, but isn’t entirely necessary for survival – or is an essential part of being human? One would be hard-pressed to give a definitive answer, but I’m going to argue for the latter…well, at least part of the time.
While I was a student at Florida State University in 2015, there was a shooting at our campus library. Given the wave of recent deadly campus shootings in our country, we seemed fortunate to escape this event with limited casualties. Thanks to the swift response of law enforcement, the gunman was shot and killed and only three others were injured. Nonetheless, the Florida State community was shaken. Was our campus safe anymore? Was this going to happen again? Fear and uncertainty took hold.
As is often the case when tragedy likes this strikes a community, there was a vigil the following evening. The line-up of speakers and their messages were well thought out, but predictable: The university president and city mayor encouraged prayers and thoughts for those injured in the shooting, a counselor offered suggestions on how one might handle the varied emotions they were feeling, The Marching Chiefs – FSU’s 300 member marching band – performed a couple solemn selections, and a student-led a cappella group performed “Amazing Grace.” Then, event organizers passed lyric sheets for “Hymn to the Garnet and Gold,” a song that functions as the school’s alma mater. The crowd of a few thousand sang together. In reality, though, most seemed to sing under their breath, couldn’t see the words, or didn’t know how the song went. As a musician and leader of singing who has seen music effectively help a community grieve, I was disappointed, but not surprised.
But that changed a few moments later. As we were preparing to leave, a member of the crowd launched in to FSU’s famous war chant and accompanying tomahawk arm motion. This chant, usually reserved for 80,000 football fans greeting the opposing team to the field, was not something vigil organizers planned as part of
But that changed a few moments later. As we were preparing to leave, a member of the crowd launched in to FSU’s famous war chant and accompanying tomahawk arm motion. This chant, usually reserved for 80,000 football fans greeting the opposing team to the field, was not something vigil organizers planned as part of the vigil program. Who would plan a war chant in response to violence? However, the FSU war chant was a heart” song for that community. Soon I was surrounded by people passionately singing, many with tears in their eyes. I was one of them. It almost felt as if something took hold and participation was involuntary. When the Marching Chiefs joined in, the sheer power of the moment was overwhelming. I was transformed by the experience and sensed, if nothing else, we had the strength to carry on in the wake of the violence that had violated our campus. Even though it might seemed inappropriate on the surface, FSU has a “heart” song, and that day it gave hope and assurance to a community that was struggling with fear and uncertainty.
In the aftermath of tragedy, humans desire to sing. It is in these moments, I believe music becomes essential. Our challenge as a family, worshiping community, or nation is to make sure we both maintain a “heart” song (or songs) and don’t forget how to sing. Most days, music probably functions like a dessert in our lives. Yet, most of us will likely encounter a time when music will feed our soul, filling a gap only music can.
Ryan Luhrs
Director of Music
Have you ever wondered why music, specifically singing, exists? Is it more like dessert – something that brings pleasure, but isn’t entirely necessary for survival – or is an essential part of being human? One would be hard-pressed to give a definitive answer, but I’m going to argue for the latter…well, at least part of the time.
While I was a student at Florida State University in 2015, there was a shooting at our campus library. Given the wave of recent deadly campus shootings in our country, we seemed fortunate to escape this event with limited casualties. Thanks to the swift response of law enforcement, the gunman was shot and killed and only three others were injured. Nonetheless, the Florida State community was shaken. Was our campus safe anymore? Was this going to happen again? Fear and uncertainty took hold.
As is often the case when tragedy likes this strikes a community, there was a vigil the following evening. The line-up of speakers and their messages were well thought out, but predictable: The university president and city mayor encouraged prayers and thoughts for those injured in the shooting, a counselor offered suggestions on how one might handle the varied emotions they were feeling, The Marching Chiefs – FSU’s 300 member marching band – performed a couple solemn selections, and a student-led a cappella group performed “Amazing Grace.” Then, event organizers passed lyric sheets for “Hymn to the Garnet and Gold,” a song that functions as the school’s alma mater. The crowd of a few thousand sang together. In reality, though, most seemed to sing under their breath, couldn’t see the words, or didn’t know how the song went. As a musician and leader of singing who has seen music effectively help a community grieve, I was disappointed, but not surprised.
But that changed a few moments later. As we were preparing to leave, a member of the crowd launched in to FSU’s famous war chant and accompanying tomahawk arm motion. This chant, usually reserved for 80,000 football fans greeting the opposing team to the field, was not something vigil organizers planned as part of
But that changed a few moments later. As we were preparing to leave, a member of the crowd launched in to FSU’s famous war chant and accompanying tomahawk arm motion. This chant, usually reserved for 80,000 football fans greeting the opposing team to the field, was not something vigil organizers planned as part of the vigil program. Who would plan a war chant in response to violence? However, the FSU war chant was a heart” song for that community. Soon I was surrounded by people passionately singing, many with tears in their eyes. I was one of them. It almost felt as if something took hold and participation was involuntary. When the Marching Chiefs joined in, the sheer power of the moment was overwhelming. I was transformed by the experience and sensed, if nothing else, we had the strength to carry on in the wake of the violence that had violated our campus. Even though it might seemed inappropriate on the surface, FSU has a “heart” song, and that day it gave hope and assurance to a community that was struggling with fear and uncertainty.
In the aftermath of tragedy, humans desire to sing. It is in these moments, I believe music becomes essential. Our challenge as a family, worshiping community, or nation is to make sure we both maintain a “heart” song (or songs) and don’t forget how to sing. Most days, music probably functions like a dessert in our lives. Yet, most of us will likely encounter a time when music will feed our soul, filling a gap only music can.
Ryan Luhrs
Director of Music
We have a choir every Sunday at the 10:30 AM service as well as a Lutheringer handbell choir that plays once a month and on holidays. Come join us for wonderful music and worship this Sunday!