Sometimes I suspect my piano playing turns heads. Not on the thought that maybe I play a mean jazz piano, which actually I wish I were better at; if I had more time to practice, I’m sure I would be, but my playing is just an avocation, just for fun. The 15-piece jazz band for which I play, which has been together for over a decade, is aptly named “Jazz on the Side,” because we’re all amateurs. We all do this while keeping our day jobs. So my task is mostly to be a working part of the rhythm section that keeps the band moving as we play big band favorites like “In the Mood,” “Stompin’ at the Savoy,” some Billy Joel stuff, and a repertoire of toe-tapping music at various local spots occasionally through the year.

But the reason my playing likely turns heads is that, as people who know me know, I’m a traditional, liturgical, serious churchman who gives no quarter to praise bands. The very existence of Gottesdienst is evidence: none of us here want anything to do with guitars and drums and that “contemporary” worship sound that draws large crowds to mega churches for entertainment disguised as worship. Jazz in church? No, thank you.

So what gives?

To everything there is a season, as it is written. And, as it happens, when we maintain a careful distinction between the sacred and the common, both are better off. This was one of the first things any Israelite learned who had the privilege of visiting the temple. There is a holy place, and it is cordoned off from all that is not holy. The churches of Jesus Christ are not rejections of this notion, for he said, “I have not come to abolish the law but to fulfil it.” If the temple was to be regarded as holy, how much more is the place where Jesus Christ the Incarnate One visits his people holy.

So I will ask you to check your saxophone at the door as you come into the holy place, but not because I don’t like its sound; on the contrary, I love the sound of jazz; rather, it’s because I recognize that some things belong in the common places and other things belong in the sacred spaces. Would that we all became better attuned to this reality, for it would help the life of faith immensely. The sounds and feel of popular music have become strongly associated to the common life, and even an integral part of it. It would confuse me to hear the drumbeats of popular culture mingled with the holy things of faith, because that would blur the distinction.

But on the other hand, just because jazz doesn't belong in church doesn't mean it doesn't belong anywhere. So to fellow aficionados (we call them cats), I say, rock on! And even if you happen to be a pastor, then keep your day job, as it were. Just play some jazz on the side. And keep the spheres separate: certainly there are many forms of art and music which are in themselves a celebration of our created and endowed lives, and so to be enjoyed just as they are. Even so, some of them not on Sunday morning in the holy place.