Ilkley Baptist

Yesterday's sermon was about celebrity. I suggested that the cult of celebrity, by leading us to give so much of our attention to celebrities, devalues us and the lives we lead. By comparison we become dull and unimportant, and in a strange way, less real.

They say that a preacher only really has a handful of different sermons, and I'm sure this is true, but occasionally I feel I've discovered a new one, and this is a case in point. The bible talks of a God who chooses the obscure and identifies with the non-entities. Covenant and incarnation give honour and reality to the ordinary. Christianity and celebrity are profoundly opposed.

Perhaps it would also be right to say that the character of God reflects the same truth. God is not a god, not a powerful supernatural being or even the most powerful supernatural being. God is something else again. Christian theism is actually very close to atheism. And once again our fascination with power, honour, importance, beauty and reality is reflected back to us.

When it rains I give myself pocket money. I wondered, many years ago, just how much effect the weather had on my mood, so I started keeping records of temperature, rainfall, and other observations. The rain was easily the most fun. I bought a rain guage, fixed it to a post in a position where there would be no rain shadow from house or tree, and waited. I had to wait three weeks - the longest dry spell I've observed in nearly twenty years of observations since then. Then, one day, a thunderstorm. I spent quite a bit of it crouching down, watching my rain guage fill. I had more than an inch of rain within an hour - the most intense rainfall I've observed in nearly twenty years. Since that dramatic start, I've been hooked. I don't bother with temperature or pressure anymore, but I keep rainfall records. And, to offset the dispiriting effect of wet weather, I award myself pocket money when it rains. £8.57 per inch of rainfall, to be precise. Carefully calculated, years ago, to average out at £5 a week.

So when it rains I perk up a bit. And when it rains hard I look and love it, and picture the funds flooding into my account. Money for CDs and books. Simon, at the record shop hasn't yet noticed it, but he sees more of me in wet weather than dry.

The wet weather in December meant I had a bit extra to spend. I ordered a recording I'd been after for several years - Evgeny Koriolov playing Book I of the Well Tempered Clavier. Very, very good. Full of life and light. But I also wondered what else to get, and Simon had a think, then put a CD into my hand. Christian Gerhaher singing Schubert lieder. He played me a track and it was good, I could see that, but it didn't really fire me up. On a whim I bought it. Simon's recommendations are worth trusting, not that I always do, but it had been a wet month.

I played it a bit more, not listening too carefully. I wasn't at all sure about it. I have this problem with singing. It doesn't matter what the genre it, I react strongly against many voices. I'm not sure why. Often it seems to be if someone is trying to make a particular sound, a beautiful sound, or imitating someone else. I loathe and detest British singers who sing in an American accent, like Elton John does. I wonder why it is that jazz singers, folk singers, opera singers and pop singers all have different styles of singing. You'd never mistake one for another. Why would people want to imitate the vocal style of someone else, as happend in these stars in their eyes programmes? And why would people sit down and watch them doing this on TV? But if it communicates, if it's real and natural and personal, then I can, sometimes, enjoy it. And the voice doesn't have to be beautiful.

I put several tracks of the Gerhaher CD onto my mp3 player and took it for a walk up the moor. Listening carefully while walking up one of the quiet gullies I found some of the tracks utterly beautiful. Introspective music in a secret landscape was a fantastic combination.

Since then I've been exploring more lieder. I still react against it quite often, almost like a gagging reflex. But when I don't, the cumulative effect of music, poetry (albeit in German!) and the passion of the human voice is a revelation. Plus it's opened up a huge area of music to me. I knew all Schubert's solo piano music, pretty much. But there are 600 songs, many with superb settings.

As I write this I'm listening to Brahms lieder sung by Bernarda Fink. This is harder work than the Schubert, but I'm getting there with this, too. Again, of course, the piano writing is brilliant.

There is a comparison to be made with theology, in that I think I've discovered a new area of theology to explore, and that will be good. A new world. But for now, the music is enough. A new world indeed. And as the alien said, on first meeting an inhabitant of the new world -