“People to meet in heaven: Jubal”
Genesis 4:21
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
Willis Haviland Carrier was born in November of 1876, the son of Duane and Elizabeth Carrier. He attended school, then graduated from Cornell University with a Bachelor’s degree in Engineering.
A year later, a local publishing company was having problems printing paper, so they asked him to create a machine that would do four things--control temperature, control humidity, control air circulation and ventilation and help purify the air. So in July of 1902, Willis Carrier came up with something he called, “air conditioning.” A few years later, when he submitted his plans and got a patent, he became known as the “father of air conditioning.”
In October of 1957, the Soviet Union launched the first manmade satellite, Sputnik, into orbit. It didn’t do much. It just tumbled around and sent blips and bleeps back to earth. But it did manage to wake up the United States, making us think a lot more about science and technology.
And it got some people to thinking. What would happen if the Soviets attacked our nation’s phone system? Then what? We wouldn’t be able to communicate! That’s when a scientist from M.I.T., J.C.R. Licklider, had an idea. Why not create a network of computers that could talk to one another instead? So seven years later, in 1969, with the help of a few others, the internet was born, making J.C.R. Licklider the “father of the internet.”
And two years later, in 1971, a computer scientist named Ray Tomlinson, sat in a windowless room in Cambridge, Massachusetts, hunched in front of two cabinet-sized computers. He had been programming and debugging for hours, trying fruitlessly to send a message from one computer to another computer.
That’s when he had an idea. He typed out his name on a keyboard: TOMLINSON. Then he typed the @ symbol, then the name of the other computer. Then he moved his chair over and banged out TYPE MAILBOX on the keyboard.
For a moment, there was silence, then a rattle, as the teletype came alive. And in that moment, history’s very first email arrived, making him the “father of email.”
When people later asked if he knew what he was doing, he answered, “I knew exactly what I was doing. I just had no idea whatsoever about what the ultimate impact would be.” I suppose not, since we’re now sending more than 205 billion emails a day.
Everything, it seems, has a father (or mother). The father of the battery is Alessandro Volta. The father of modern firearms is John Moses Browning. The father of the telephone is Alexander Graham Bell. And the mother of nursing is Florence Nightingale.
Even music has a father. But to find him, you’ll have to go back, way, way back, all the way to the very beginning. And there you’ll find a man named Jubal, the father of music, a man we want to meet in heaven.
Turn with me in your Bibles to page 5 as I read the words of Genesis chapter 4. I’ll start at verse 17: “Cain knew his wife, and she conceived and bore Enoch. When he built a city, he called the name of the city after the name of his son, Enoch. To Enoch was born Irad, and Irad fathered Mehujael, and Mehujael fathered Methushael, and Methushael fathered Lamech. And Lamech took two wives. The name of the one was Adah, and the name of the other Zillah. Adah bore Jabal; he was the father of those who dwell in tents and have livestock. His brother’s name was Jubal; he was the father of all those who play the lyre and pipe. Zillah also bore Tubal-cain; he was the forger of all instruments of bronze and iron.”
We’ll stop there. Can you imagine a world without music? No songs. No tunes. No country-westerns. No symphonies. No whistling Dixie. No singing in the shower. No rock and roll.
Sinatra couldn’t fly to the moon. Elvis couldn’t complain about people stepping on his blue-suede shoes. Tony Bennett would have to write a letter about how he left his heart in San Francisco. And Ray Charles would look kind of funny sitting up on stage, with no piano, telling us why Georgia was on his mind.
And on a bride’s wedding day, what would she walk to down the aisle? A poem? Silence? A round of applause? And at the reception, what would we dance to? The Chicken dance just isn’t the same without music. Then when a baby arrives, we couldn’t lull her to sleep with a lullaby. And when birthdays roll around, would we stand to recite, “Happy birthday to you”?
On the Fourth of July, there would be no, “O say, can you see?” At Christmas, no carols. And at Easter, no hymns.
As someone once put it: “Music will inflict the pain of a lost memory, but it will also wash away that pain. It will remind you of your wounded heart, but it will also nurse and heal that wound. It will bring back the pangs of disappointment, but also give you the strength to overcome it. It will help you know that you are caught up, but it will also free your soul. It will bring tears to your eyes, but it will also wipe them away.”
And as Luther himself once said: “The fairest and most glorious gift of God is music.” And he said: “It’s often given me new life, and inspired me with a desire to preach.”
Now I suppose, at the very beginning, there was some music. There was the music of nature—chirping birds, rushing rivers, the wisp and whistle of the wind. But that’s all there was until a man named Jubal came along, “the father of those who play the lyre and the pipe.”
And that’s why we want to meet him in heaven.
Now Jubal wasn’t just a famous musician like Bach or Beethoven. He was the father of all musicians, the master of his trade. Not only did he become skilled at playing the lyre, a stringed instrument, and the pipe, a wind instrument, he invented them! And that’s why we call him the father of music today.
From its very beginning to its end, the Bible is full of music. Just as soon as the Egyptians drowned in the Red Sea, Moses burst into song. And so did his sister, Miriam. Together they sang: “I will sing unto the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously, the horse and rider thrown into the sea.”
When a judge named Deborah conquered a king named Sisera, she burst into song. You’ll find it in the words of Judges chapter 7: “Hear, O kings; give ear, O princes; to the Lord I will sing; I will make melody to the Lord, the God of Israel.”
When Joshua fought the battle of Jericho, walls fell as trumpets blew. And when King Saul fell into another of his bad moods, David came to play his harp.
And speaking of David, music was always on his mind—like Psalm 69, a song of deep despair. “Save me, O God!” he sang. “Let not the flood sweep over me, or the deep swallow me up, or the pit close its mouth over me.” Or think of Psalm 150, a song of triumph and praise: “Praise Him with trumpet sound; praise Him with lute and harp! Praise Him with tambourine and dance; praise Him with strings and pipe! Praise Him with sounding cymbals; praise Him with loud clashing cymbals! Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!”
In the book of Acts, when men dragged Paul and Silas into the marketplace, then beat them and threw them in prison, what did they do? They sang! That’s what it says in Acts chapter 16: “About midnight, Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.”
And as Jesus sat with His disciples on that fateful Maundy Thursday night, He sang. That’s what it says in Matthew 26: “And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.”
And when time is no more, we’ll sing once more. That’s what it says in Revelation 19: “Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out, ‘Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns.’”
Johann Sebastian Bach was born into the musical family of Bachs in 1685. By the age of ten, both of his parents died. That’s when he went to live with his brother. But even though he was so young and life was so hard, he was determined to write music for the glory of God.
Albert Schweitzer called him, “the fifth evangelist,” after Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. When he was seventeen, he became first the organist at a church, then was given charge of the entire music ministry.
And during his time in Weimar, Germany, he wrote a new cantata every month! And during one three-year period, he wrote, conducted, orchestrated and performed (with his choir and orchestra) a new cantata every week!
In his time, no one had any idea what mark Bach would leave. Yet, three hundred years later, his legacy lives on.
At the beginning of his every manuscript, you can find two letters: “J.J.,” letters that stood for “Jesu Jave,” “Jesus help me.” And at the end of each manuscript, you’ll find three letters: “S.D.G.,” “Soli Deo Gloria,” “to God alone be the glory.”
From beginning to end, Bach’s life was one unbroken song of praise.
Jubal’s story lives on. Even though it began so long ago in the words of Genesis chapter 4, his music lives on. You’ll hear it resound in songs like, “What a Friend we have in Jesus,” “I Know that my Redeemer lives,” “A Mighty Fortress is our God,” and “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.”
And the music we sing today, from fast to slow to anything inbetween, is all because of a man named Jubal, a man we want to meet in heaven.
May your life, and mine, be one unbroken song of praise.
As the psalmist once wrote, You, O Lord, are our strength, our song and our salvation. Give us the grace to sing with all our heart, soul and mind and to give thanks to You forever. This we ask for Jesus’ sake. Amen