The Fourth Movement

"Music is an innocent luxury, unnecessary, indeed, to our existence, but a great improvement and gratification of the sense of hearing."  General History of Music, Dr Charles Burney, 1776

A few days ago I took one of my Ottorino Respighi CDs with me on a road trip.  The thing I love about "traveling music" is that the music blends in with my surroundings. As the landscape changes the music changes with it giving me a completely different experience than listening at home. Since this particular trip took me along the Ocoee River  the experience was extremely gratifying.  The Ocoee River exists at the mercy of the Tennessee Valley Authority which diverts the water for its hydroelectric generators and releases it for the enjoyment of whitewater enthusiasts.  Along the way my music took me by the upper portion of the river which hosted the 1996 Olympic Games. Then Respigui followed me into the mountains of northeast Georgia where his symphonic masterpiece mingled with the colorful trees, hills and sky.

I have been fortunate to have enjoyed a few encounters that can only be called "mystical."  I call them encounters not because I met someone, but that I met "Something."  I call them mystical because they do not fit into any box related to any particular religion or culture. Thus they are mystical.

One of these encounters happened in the spring of 1975 on Highway 78 east  between Jasper and Birmingham, Alabama. The young woman with me was a good friend. She was not yet my girlfriend. And she was asleep. I had my  radio tuned to a rock station, KZ 106,  in Birmingham that played Classical music on Sunday night. I was not familiar with the music that was playing, but I was enjoying it very much.  In the fourth movement the marvelous music reached a stunning climax of pipe organ music with symphonic accompaniment. The music was majestic and  stunning. And at that moment we passed a church in Sumiton.  The lights were on in the church and like the burning bush of old they seemed to be on fire! The effect was stunning.  And everything I was feeling from the music I was simultaneously seeing. The church was transformed and glorified with this glorious music. I was transformed as well. The whole experience, which only lasted a few seconds, was otherworldly in its intensity and sensual beauty. And then the  encounter ended as the music ended. Whatever had just happened was over.  The DJ said, "You've been listening to Church Windows by Ottorino Respighi."

These encounters can't be manufactured or repeated.  I've driven by that church at night many times and there is nothing remarkable about it.  Garden variety church windows. .  I have listened to Church Windows many times both at home and on the road.  I still enjoy the music very much, but I've never been translated to another world..

But one thing I believe happened that night in 1975 is that Someone was telling me something extremely important  that would make a big difference for me later--"Don't forget the fourth movement! No matter what happens during the first three, you will  eventually get to the fourth movement!"  In 1975 I was struggling in every way possible. I was considering quitting my part-time church job, dropping out of college and going home. Although I cared a lot for this young woman who was with me, I had no idea what I wanted in a relationship. She had no idea what I wanted either. What Someone knew that I didn't know was that my worst struggles were ahead of me. As the Apostle Paul wrote to the church at Corinth, "At times I despaired of life itself."

I graduated with honors the next June and that young woman and I got married in October. That experience on Highway 78 happened forty one years ago and yet when I listened to Church Windows earlier this week I can remember what happened to me.  I can't reproduce it, but I can remember it, I can take you to the place, point at it and say, "That's where it happened."

The Ocoee River was beautiful, but there was nothing extraordinary about it. But  the fourth movement was as glorious as ever.

That young woman and I have traveled far together in every possible way over forty one years.  And now after raising our family, surviving a few careers and paying off some debt, we are entering the fourth movement, the final movement.  Unlike the fourth movement of Church Windows which lasts nine minutes and thirty-two seconds, we don't know how long ours will last.  It doesn't matter how long it lasts. I no longer measure my life in years, but in moments. We plan to fill every moment of our fourth movement together with love and with gratitude.

Dr. Burney wrote that music is "unnecessary". Maybe he makes a good point.  If I don't eat I die. If I don't breathe I die. If I don't make music or listen to music, I still live.  But I can say for certain  that the performance of Ottorino Respigui's Church Windows on KZ 106 meant as much to me as that burning bush did to Moses. The church was burning and yet was not consumed. I was burning, but was not consumed. Dr. Burney goes on to write that music promotes "gratification of the sense of hearing." I'm listening to Church Windows on Spotify and I am extremely gratified. And Dr. Burney, although I've never published a history of music, in my humble opinion, although our lives usually don't depend on it, music is necessary; it's very necessary.