J. Reilly Lewis serves God with his music, filling Washington’s grandest spaces with the chords and choirs imagined by the world’s great composers. The 65-year-old D.C. native is the founder and musical director of the Washington Bach Consort, the organist and choirmaster at Clarendon United Methodist Church, and the 25-year musical director of the Cathedral Choral Society, whose season begins with Verdi’s “Requiem” on Oct. 18 at the Washington National Cathedral.
Do you consider yourself to be of a specific faith?
I was raised Episcopalian, and I’m still a member of St. Paul’s Parish on K Street. But as a professional church musician I’ve been employed happily by the Methodist church for 38 years. It was the great musical traditions of the Anglicans, though, that first inspired my faith. I still carry my Anglican sensibilities — I guess you could call me a high Methodist.
Did anyone or any event especially influence your faith or your path in life?
Well, in part it was a frog. I attended Oberlin College and I was going to be a doctor — I was studying pre-med. But I’ve always gotten a bit faint at sight of blood. And then in biology class one day we had to kill frogs, and I couldn’t do it. And so I put it in my pocket, and walked out of class, and I let it go. I had this cathartic moment at the time, and then I went to the chapel. The choir was singing — I think it was Brahms — and I thought, “Who am I trying to fool? You need this — you need music!” Now I have to pinch myself to this day that I’ve been able to live my love.
How, in your mind, can music enhance the faith experience?
So often the faith experience divides us — the polemics, the double-edged sword of people wanting to profess their faith, and all the doors that shuts to other people. Not to sound without convictions, but music transcends those boundaries. Before the Berlin Wall fell, we performed the “St. Matthew’s Passion” in the National Cathedral with the Bach Consort. At the time we had an ambassador from West Germany and a representative from East Germany — I don’t think they had direct communication with each other. But after the program I said to them both in German, “Through this music there can be no barriers.” They shook hands then. I don’t know whether they did again, but that wasn’t the point. The music speaks far beyond the power of our words.
Do you find yourself critical of music in contemporary church services?
If you mean praise and worship music, I’m not critical so much … I have more sadness than anger. The sadness for me is that … I don’t know. I just know this – that I can’t go there. If I had to do praise music I’d resign. But at the same time we’ve developed a contemporary service [at Clarendon United Methodist] and there are wonderful performers and they do a wonderful job and have developed a strong following. But it doesn’t speak to me. Call me an elitist, but it feels temporal. If it’s another way of expressing a faith that’s already there – good. But I’d rather see people not so sure about faith, and then touched in a way that is transforming and transcending.
At your core, what is one of your defining beliefs?
I believe in the power of music to create community – to touch, and to heal, and to transform. I’ve seen people with the most diverse backgrounds come together in one place and be touched by the hand of God through the inspiration – the genius – of Bach or Brahms or Verdi or Mozart. That power to bring people together isn’t restricted to music, but music is my language.
– Leah Fabel
