IN THE KNOW: Noisy Gongs are No Good For Any EarsHarsh words on the commons distort the gospel
For me, senior year began with an unexpected act of grace through an offer of warm, delicious muffins by the “muffin lady” on South Mason Street. Filled with eager anticipation of my final year at JMU, I strolled by D-Hall and looked over and saw my least-favorite passageway on campus filled with orienting freshmen.
My growing excitement was shattered by the thought, “that angry preacher better not come again.” I was wrong. Like every year I’ve been here, that familiar echo rang around the circular thoroughfare. But it reminded me of something I had learned this summer: noisy gongs and clanging cymbals.
A common passage of the Bible read at weddings is the first letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians. “Love is patient, love is kind” says Paul. But preceding this, he writes, “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.”
My understanding of this passage speaks of people who stand up and attract crowds with the power of words. Sadly, what many at JMU have had to hear as the late August days mixed with the absence of heat and humidity has been clanging gongs that ache our ears and drive our emotions to a red line.
In their cultural backdrop, the noisy gongs and clanging cymbals Paul spoke of were religious rituals that existed in ancient times. Those rituals were ornate and grand in flair, often joined with noisy gongs and clanging cymbals used to impress and entreat the favor of the gods above.
In short, they harnessed self-righteousness by engaging in theatrical pomp in order to conjure up internal feelings of doing God’s work and earning His approval.
Things have not changed since then. The condemning words that rang around the circle of the commons were noisy gongs and theatric spectacle aimed to please a God who is not pleased by either unholy or “holier-than-thou” behaviors.
From where I come spiritually, I do not shy away from admitting that I have failed in meeting the standards of God to love unconditionally and help the poor and the sick.
Condemned as I may stand, whether by the letter of God’s laws or the deafening overtones of another “gospel,” I find sweetness in my own ears to know the real meaning of grace — beyond a professor delaying a paper deadline for two extra days because of certain reasons. (I thank those professors who have done so graciously.)
As I reflect on this very thought, I am reminded of that good ol’ hymn, “Amazing Grace,” and its humble lines that flow: “How sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me!/I once was lost but now I’m found, was blind but now I see.” They are a reference to the real Gospel, without the strings of human religion. The sweetness of it all rests on the fact that every one of us deserves condemnation, but our shortcomings are covered by the atonement of Christ on the cross. Indeed, an amazing grace.
Whoa! I may be getting all preachy and clanging my own gong, but I end with honey for your ears. However you have seen or reacted to the unkind theatrical presence full of fear and condemnation, the irony is that the very person “Brother” Micah Armstrong tries to follow, Jesus Christ, diametrically opposed fear and condemnation through unconditional love.
Believe whatever you may believe spiritually, but know that in the real words of scripture, no spectacle that draws crowds and chants an elegy of self-righteousness earns a place in the sight of God.
And it offers no hope to those who need it.
Jeff Genota is a senior political science major. He can be reached at genotajc@jm
