Recently I had coffee with a long-time friend, an accomplished and highly sought-after soloist, with whom I taught on the Southwestern Baptist Seminary faculty. I used to sit next to him during Seminary graduations and convocations and wish I could preach as good as he could sing. Last week I sat next to a good friend at breakfast, with whom I served as Interim Pastor at a church where he was the Minister of Music. Then, in the past few days, I’ve had lengthy phone conversations with two other Ministers of Music, with whom I also served as Interim Pastor. Other than the fact that almost everyone on my mother’s side of the family was musical, I have often wondered why some of my best friends are musicians. My only venture into the musical field (other than the expected, and unfortunate tenure in the church’s youth choir), was when my mother, determined to make a musician out of me, bought me a trombone and hired a teacher. During the first teaching session, I learned the positions on the slide. At the beginning of the second lesson, I played a hymn, “Whispering Hope” for the teacher. He promptly quit, explaining he could not teach someone who played by ear. Shortly thereafter, the trombone was sold in a garage sale. The Apostle Paul, who apparently was not a musician, said, “Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, let us use them” (Romans 12:6). I have observed that the church functions best when each member understands and uses their own gifts, while appreciating and affirming the gifts of others. Using the biblical comparison of the physical body-to the body of Christ, the church, Evangelist Junior Hill once said in a Chapel sermon, “If you are a foot and you insist on being an eye, God will say, OK, but for the rest of your life, all you are going to see is the inside of a sock.” So, I will continue to do my thing and affirm my musician friends as they do theirs. I still don’t understand why so many of my good friends are musicians, but I’m sure glad they are.