Friday, June 26, 2015

And the band played on


The band was set up in a parking lot, sandwiched between a castle-like assisted living facility and a less pretentious looking nursing home. The Repasz Band is the oldest, non-military band in continuous existence in the US. They recently took two tour buses to Appomattox to play for the 150th anniversary of Lee’s surrender (the band was present for the actual event). My mom, a faithful member of the band, says they often joke about some of the band members being there in 1861; the joking brings some levity to the reality: the average age of the band has to be at least 60. 


Tonight the sixty-something’s were the young ones, playing for a mostly wheel chair bound audience that had been parked in neat rows on the lawn in front of the nursing home. The director of the band who himself is up in years displayed the most gracious hosting, inviting the audience to sing along with some old Billy Sunday tunes. When the band played a medley of Armed Forces themes, he invited those present to raise a hand (or stand for the few that could) when they recognized their tune. At those moments, the conductor turned toward those with a hand raised and offered a gracious salute.

As I watched, tapped my foot and encouraged my children to “listen and watch grandma, “ I reflected on the beauty and rarity of a community band. They are a seemingly dying institution yet their name says it all: community.

Earlier today, our President broke into song while he was in a community, a community gathered for mourning in Charleston. What was more beautiful than him beginning “Amazing Grace” was the assembly joining him. It was not his solo; it was a song that belonged to those people gathered who, for that moment, were a community.

Community faces great odds. It can easily turn in on itself; it can erode because we are only looking out for number one. I can't forget that the reason the Repasz band went to Appomottox was to remember a war where two communities in one country killed one another. And still, years after slavery, racism rears its head time and time again.  But on days like today, I sense a deeper awareness of our connective tissue. The reason I and so many rejoiced at the supreme court ruling was its blessing of relationship, of realizing the basic human desire to be united with another, even in the midst of struggle.


Tonight as the band played an arrangement of “America the Beautiful,” I quietly sang the words of Katharine Lee Bates:

America, America, God shed his grace on thee
and crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea.

The brotherhood language aside (that’s another struggle) the theme is clear: the prayer for community made possible by grace. It sings of a patriotism that glorifies not “bombs bursting in air” but the unity of our land and our people. What would have Katharine Lee Bates thought of today's events, herself a woman that lived with the love of her life, a woman named Katharine for twenty-five years? Even as the struggles for equality continue, we have little bands playing on in harmony. So I say, let the band play on.  

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