It was twenty years ago today,
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They’ve been going in and out of style
But they’re guaranteed to raise a smile
The Beatles, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

June 1, 1967: The Beatles (George Harrison, John Lennon, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr) release their album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. In 1978, rock critics and disc jockeys rated the top 200 rock albums of all time and Sgt. Pepper’s was rated number one. Critic Joel Whitburn wrote, “Sgt. Pepper’s was then and still is one of the greatest listening experiences for the rock ear.”

June 18, 1967: Beatle Paul McCartney turned 25. One of the songs on Sgt. Pepper’s written by Lennon and McCartney poses the question, “Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m sixty-four?”

June 24, 1967: I turned eight. O.k. this doesn’t rate with the other events listed here, but what can I say – I’m doing the writing.

I don’t recall when I first heard all of Sgt. Pepper’s. The first Beatles song I remember listening to, and one I still enjoy, is “I Saw Her Standing There.” I do remember from my younger days hearing the songs “A Little Help From My Friends” and “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds.” I have always been fond of the rich musical texture of “Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds.” I know I bought Sgt. Pepper’s when I was in college, and the vinyl record sits on the computer desk in front of me as I write. I continue to listen to this record, though now more often on CD or on my Mp3 player. It still speaks to me, touches me, gives me joy. It is a feast of music and ideas. Sure some of the ideas are dated. Few see taking drugs as something that positively contributes to expanding consciousness. Yet I remain interested in the human mind, consciousness and trying to see things from unique angles. Sgt. Pepper’s celebrates that, and celebrates getting by with a little help from our friends.

June 2007: Former Beatle Paul McCartney releases his newest CD – Memory Almost Full. It is playing on my computer as I type.

June 18, 2007: Paul McCartney turns 65. Now that he’s past sixty-four, how much do we need him?

June 24, 2007: I turned forty-eight. No CDs forthcoming.

Memory Almost Full is no Sgt. Pepper’s. With the fracturing of the listening public into niche audiences, we will probably never have another group like The Beatles. Sgt. Pepper’s opened the door to incorporating a variety of styles and sounds into music that began with more simple rhythm and blues – and so much has been done creatively since, but you can only open a door like that once. Nevertheless, I am enjoying Paul McCartney’s new album. His gifts for composing memorable melodies remain in evidence, from simple ballads to all out rockers. While not all the songs are spectacular, many are very good. Some of his songs reflect on growing old in as meaningful a way as some of the songs on Sgt. Pepper’s reflected youthful optimism, curiosity and questioning in the 1960s.

“That Was Me” has Paul singing about being at Scout camp and in school plays. “The same me that stands her now/And when I think that all this stuff/Can make a life Its pretty hard to take it in/That was me.” How many of us past the age of forty think in such terms – how much life has brought our way, how quickly it has gone, marveling that all these moments make a life.

In a song (“End of the End”) that is pretty simple and a little sentimental, Paul looks forward to the time when his life will end. “At the end of the end/It’s the start of a journey/To a much better place.” Maybe not the most profound theology, but I would guess he reflects the thoughts of thousands if not millions of people. And when his life ends, on the day that he dies, he sings that he would like jokes to be told and stories of old; bells to be rung and songs to be sung. Not a bad thought.

Even at age 48, I sometimes think about what I hope people remember about me when the time for my own death arrives. I think sometimes about the mark I wish to make on the world. Now maybe 48 is a little early to be thinking such things. As a pastor, though, I deal with death on a regular basis, so it is not surprising that I should wonder a bit about my own. I am also aware of the early deaths of many whose lives and or work I have admired: trumpeter Bix Beiderbecke (28), saxophonist Charlie Parker (34), Martin Luther King, Jr. (39), Dietrich Bonhoeffer (39), John Lennon (40), saxophonist John Coltrane (40), writer Jack Kerouac (47). I hope I have and will continue to touch the world with love, hope, grace, gentleness and humor. There is more I want to do and to experience, more I want to read and watch and listen to, more I want to do to make the world a little better. But someday my listening and reading and watching and working will come to an end – and in the end of the end I hope some good stories are told and that laughter is shared.

I appreciate the openness of Paul McCartney’s new CD – his openness to looking back and his openness to the inevitability of the end of the end. He hopes people remember him for music that celebrates life and love. I don’t know Paul McCartney’s religious orientation, but his attitude reflects a deep faith of some kind. For me, my faith is defined as faith in the God of Jesus Christ, and I trust God to take what I can give to make the world more loving and just and build on that. And I trust my life to God when my work has come to an end.

If McCartney’s new CD sounds too serious – like a bit of a downer, let me assure you it has moments of sheer joy. The opening track, “Dance Tonight” sings out: “Everybody gonna dance tonight/Everybody gonna feel alright/Everybody gonna dance around tonight.” He also has a song on the CD called "Gratitude" – and the title says it all, gratitude for life’s good gifts.

Life will end. It can help to think about how we would like to have touched the world in whatever time we are given, because before we know it we are amazed that that was me. In the meantime, while contributing to make the world a better place, a little gratitude and little dancing go along way.

You may be past sixty-four, Paul, but I still need you and your music. You still raise a smile. Thanks.

With Faith and With Feathers,

David