I was the recent beneficiary of one of these concerts; an installment of the Fernando Laures Piano Series at Kilbourn Hall featured Italian pianist Sandro Russo performing pieces by Chopin, Debussy and Scriabin. After the show, Russo made his way upstairs to the closer quarters of the Ranlet Lounge, where he engaged with questions from the audience. What quickly became apparent, beyond even his vast skills as a musician, was the level of thoughtfulness which seemingly permeated every aspect of his musical efforts.

One of the most striking threads that emerged in this conversation was his reflection on the process of bringing a piece of music to life. Every word on this point was infused with a deep respect for the essence of any given piece. Russo described his adherence to an essentially originalist philosophy of musical interpretation when undertaking its performance, one which prioritizes efforts to draw out the life of a work as the composer intended. And yet, this was tempered all the while with his acknowledgment of the small margins which exist for creativity, that each performative iteration inevitably produces ever so slight variations from the raw musical notes recorded on paper. I walked away from this encounter engrossed in thought on these questions, particularly contemplating the relationship that exists between a musician, their music, and the ensuing process that allows each to shape the other.

The residual influence of a compelling book I recently read accounts in large part for why Russo’s heartfelt reflections resonated so strongly with me. By all appearances, Echoes of Exodus: Tracing Themes of Redemption through Scripture is a theological work, highlighting the prevalence of the Exodus theme throughout the Bible. That it is, but it is also far more. Authors Alastair Roberts and Andrew Wilson speak at length on the biblical ubiquity of the Exodus narrative; but at a deeper level, in the process of such a demonstration they lean heavily on a musical understanding of Scripture. According to them, “Scripture is music,” and the Exodus theme is a testament to this truth.

Roberts and Wilson even say as much in the first chapter, aptly titled “A Musical Reading of Scripture.” They carefully construct a proper framework for readers to engage with the remainder of the book, offering a convincing case for reading Scripture with an eye for its musical makeup. In particular, they discuss the influence that metaphors exercise upon us—often in ways which are invisible to our conscious thought. In their own words: “If a controlling metaphor is chosen well, it has the capacity to illuminate new worlds of meaning and help us see all sorts of connections we might otherwise have missed.” (23)  From there, the advantages of the metaphor of music are explored. Three key pairings of musical elements are noted for their ability to unlock a deeper understanding of Scripture: tension and resolution, melody and harmony, and rhythm and meter. The tense discordant notes and subsequent resolutions as the biblical song unfolds; the primary scriptural melodies such as sin, redemption, slavery, freedom, sacrifice and grace, complemented by unique harmonizations from the Pentateuch, the Prophets, the Gospels or the Epistles; the underlying metronome of the scriptural timeline, punctuated by various distinct rhythms of Passover, prophecies or miracles: each of these offer us a way of experiencing Scripture as a powerful and complex piece of divine music.

Some longer excerpts here provide a glimpse into their efforts to highlight the musical character of Scripture. There are many more similar examples, but these two in particular capture well the tone that runs throughout the entire book.

Taken from the first of four chapters addressing the Exodus shaped notes within Genesis, this passage draws attention to the portion of the song entrusted to Noah:

“Most obviously, from an exodus perspective, the ark is the way God keeps his people safe from the watery judgement that comes on the wicked. Just as Israel and Egypt both enter the Red Sea but only one emerges safe on the other side, so Noah’s family and the rest of the known world enter the floodwaters, but only one makes it out alive. Just as Israel escaped judgment at Passover as they went inside their homes and closed the doors, so Noah leads his family inside the ark, ‘and the Lord shut him in’ (Gen. 7:16). Just as Moses sent out messengers to spy out the land, so Noah sends out a raven and a dove to see if the floodwaters have subsided. Just as God remembered Israel and led them to a mountain where he gave them a new covenant, new laws, and ultimately rest, so God remembers Noah (8:1) and brings him safely to a mountain, where he receives a new covenant, new laws, and a place of rest. Noah is Moses. Ararat is Sinai.” (63)

A later chapter reveals the re-echoing of Exodus within the lives of Elijah and Elisha. “Elijah is a new Moses. Elisha is a new Joshua.” (105) Strong thematic ties bind the stories of Moses and Elijah into one musical part—confrontations with false gods, struggles against the ungodly rulers Pharaoh and Ahab—and this pattern resonates on through the men charged with a continuation of their ministry:

“It is at this point in each story that we first meet the prophetic successors, Joshua and Elisha. Both men have similar names, which highlight the rescue God will work through them: Joshua means ‘the Lord saves,’ and Elisha means ‘God Saves.’ Both men will serve older leaders for some time, before being commissioned on the far side of the Jordan. Both will begin their leadership with a miraculous water crossing, in imitation of their mentors. Both will immediately face unanswered questions about the location of their predecessors’ bodies. Both are called to take the land of Israel for the Lord, beginning in Jericho. Both will show unusual kindness to a person from an enemy nation (Rahab the Canaanite prostitute and Naaman the Syrian leper), bring judgment to Israelites who steal things (Achan and Gehazi), and conquer foreign armies in miraculous ways.” (106-107)

One of the most compelling features of the book is its own adherence to a musical framing. Just as Scripture itself is a composition of notes, keys, themes and melodies, so is Echoes of Exodus. Even its layout is structured in a deeply musical manner, lending it a sense of internal consistency. The book is comprised of four movements, each one providing its own insights on the different manifestations of the Exodus theme throughout Scripture. These are preceded by a prelude and an overture, which offer samples of the song to come. Furthermore, consistent patterns of analysis are established from chapter to chapter, giving the reader a sense that there are specific melodies reverberating throughout, with each movement and chapter contributing its own special harmonic part as well. By employing this musical approach in their own work, the authors emulate well that which they see displayed in the pages of Scripture. The captivating result is that as one progresses through the book they increasingly begin to hear these echoes, and not just read of them.

This observation is precisely where the influence of a book such as this can break out into other areas of our lives, especially as it pertains to the art that we create. Roberts and Wilson have modeled for us the ways in which an artist is molded by the influences they are immersed within. In the case of an artist who strives to look toward Christ in all things, that central influence happens to be a musical composition arranged by the creating God, spanning the course of multiple centuries and featuring the performances of countless contributors. When viewed in this light, it becomes apparent that this piece of music not only contains eternal truths, but also artistic patterns of communicating those truths which are unrivaled in their elegance. An acknowledgment of this fact is bound to have profound effects on the creative endeavors which proceed from such an understanding.

In this vein, a realization that confronted me after reading through Echoes of Exodus is how limited our conception of God’s creative nature often is. When attempting to make a case for Christian art that is a response to His original artistic works, our gaze is typically cast far and wide, overlooking this divinely crafted text which is accessible on a daily basis. Appeals are made—and rightly so—to the artwork found in nature, the biological intricacy of our bodies, or personal experiences demonstrating His sovereignty, among others. While these are all indeed valuable, they are not the full story. For the Christian, Scripture itself is and should be the original work of art to which we look for guidance and inspiration. To neglect the storehouse that resides within its pages, treating it simply as a dry text that speaks only with the voice of far away and ancient events, is to cut ourselves off from one of the richest sources of artistic formation at our disposal.

Recalling here the balance that animated Russo’s musical performance allows us to put the underlying ideas of Echoes of Exodus into sharper focus. The deep-seated respect that informed his interaction with a piece, along with his joy in creatively bringing it to life, point to the posture that a Christian artist would do well to adopt towards the central text of their faith. Roberts and Wilson remind us that there is a distinctive song which sounds throughout its pages; discerning this truth enables us to envision the ways that each individual artist has been entrusted with their own unique part in its performance.  As disciples of Christ, ours is the task of recognizing this music and giving it voice in our own artistry, ultimately doing so in a way which harkens back to the original song of Scripture.

Forefront is committed to fostering a robust conversation on the intersection of Christian faith and the arts by publishing a wide range of voices and opinions. The views expressed here reflect those of the author.