Moomin Light

Choir/"Beggars to God" - Sally Rogers and Howard Bursen (written by Bob Franke)

[At Musiclectic yesterday, If They Could See Me Now (sung by Shirley MacLaine in Sweet Charity)(still in a Fosse mood), and one of the communion hymns today, Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence, sung by John Michael Talbot and choir]

[More ginko leaves at Duke Gardens, to the right.]

A non-angsty choir post (grin), which started out short with a song, and then I learned more about the songwriter, and the post just grew and grew... 

I had my first voice lesson in almost two months last week (we were out of town and then I had bad allergies).  It went well, and it warmed me up for the choir rehearsal.  I was able to sing G's for the first half hour of the rehearsal.  Unfortunately, by the end of the rehearsal, my voice was tired and I could hardly sing at all. 

Anyway, today, I warmed up before choir by doing part of my voice lesson, and I was able to sing the G's in the descant for the first hymn.  This makes me very happy! We sang "Keep Your Lamps" with drums - lots of fun (here's a video, but they sing it faster and without drums). 

I realized today that I feel part of the choir.  Not that anyone else probably thought that I was "on probation," but I felt that way.  It takes me a while to feel at home in places.

The Gospel reading today was the parable of the wise and foolish virgins:

1"At that time the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. 2Five of them were foolish and five were wise. 3The foolish ones took their lamps but did not take any oil with them. 4The wise, however, took oil in jars along with their lamps. 5The bridegroom was a long time in coming, and they all became drowsy and fell asleep.

 6"At midnight the cry rang out: 'Here's the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!'

 7"Then all the virgins woke up and trimmed their lamps. 8The foolish ones said to the wise, 'Give us some of your oil; our lamps are going out.'

 9" 'No,' they replied, 'there may not be enough for both us and you. Instead, go to those who sell oil and buy some for yourselves.'

 10"But while they were on their way to buy the oil, the bridegroom arrived. The virgins who were ready went in with him to the wedding banquet. And the door was shut.

 11"Later the others also came. 'Sir! Sir!' they said. 'Open the door for us!'

 12"But he replied, 'I tell you the truth, I don't know you.'

 13"Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour.

I understand that we're supposed to see this as a precautionary tale - this is what happens when you're not ready.  We're looking at it from the point of view of the foolish virgins.  I always have a difficulty with this parable, however.  I can be really compulsive, at times, about making sure that things are organized the right way and that everything is in place.  So, I kind of identify with the wise virgins - except that they seem very uncaring.  I know that they might run out of oil if they shared the oil, but can't they share lamps?  (I'm not missing the point here, I'm just sort of wandering around it)

Bethlehem Chapel in the Washington National Cathedral

Remember that I didn't get any good photos of the Bethlehem Chapel - where we went to Evensong?  Dear husband snuck back down there after Evensong and took these two pictures for me! (grin)(Thank you!)

We sat to the left of the second pillar on the left.

 

The view from where we sat.

"Singing with the Lutherans" by Garrison Keillor

I grew up in the Lutheran church, and I find this great fun:

...We make fun of Lutherans for their blandness, their excessive calm, their fear of giving offense, their lack of speed and also for their secret fondness for macaroni and cheese. But nobody sings like them. If you ask an audience in New York City, a relatively Lutheranless place, to sing along on the chorus of Michael Row the Boat Ashore, they will look daggers at you as if you had asked them to strip to their underwear. But if you do this among Lutherans they'll smile and row that boat ashore and up on the beach! And down the road! Lutherans are bred from childhood to sing in four-part harmony. It's a talent that comes from sitting on the lap of someone singing alto or tenor or bass and hearing the harmonic intervals by putting your little head against that person's rib cage. It's natural for Lutherans to sing in harmony. We're too modest to be soloists, too worldly to sing in unison. When you're singing in the key of C and you slide into the A7th and D7th chords, all two hundred of you, it's an emotionally fulfilling moment.I once sang the bass line of Children of the Heavenly Father in a room with about three thousand Lutherans in it; and when we finished, we all had tears in our eyes, partly from the promise that God will not forsake us, partly from the proximity of all those lovely voices. By our joining in harmony, we somehow promise that we will not forsake each other. I do believe this: People, these Lutherans, who love to sing in four-part harmony are the sort of people you could call up when you're in deep distress. If you're dying, they'll comfort you. If you're lonely, they'll talk to you. And if you're hungry, they'll give you tuna salad!

Read the rest here.

More from the Washington National Cathedral

First post here.

View from the Great Choir.
 
The altar.

View from the back of the nave.  They were getting ready to have a wedding.

View of the Washington Monument from the tower.

Don't you just love flying buttresses...

 

...and vaulted ceilings?!

 

I love the hummingbird door knocker. 

There were a number of smaller chapels in the lower level of the Cathedral.  This is the Resurrection Chapel.

They had a wonderful gift shop in the lower level of the Cathedral.  I know a few good Catholic bookstores.  Although I know that the Episcopalian population is far smaller, I still have been surprised that I haven't even found a good Episcopalian bookstore online - much less in person.  The bookstore in the Cathedral was wonderful.  I had a few minutes before Evensong to look, and I knew I could find lots of books I'd like to get.  The other things in the gift store were interesting too.  How was I going to decide?  We weren't going to have much time.

That's because we went to Evensong (which was a prayer service.  No singing).  Evensong was held in the Bethlehem Chapel.*  There was one regular, two other visitors, the five of us, and the church member who lead Evensong.  It's very simple - prayers, a psalm, a reading from the Gospel, the Apostle's Creed, etc. 

It was also wonderful.  As much as I enjoyed touring the Cathedral, it's meant for worship.  Evensong was the best part of the vacation. 

After Evensong, we spent a few more minutes in the gift store, but, by then, I no longer wanted to buy anything.  I already got what I needed (and I know that sounds sappy, but it's true).

 

* I didn't get any good pictures of the Bethlehem Chapel, but on the Cathedral website they have wonderful virtual tours of the major parts of the Cathedral.

Not another angsty church choir post... And "Goodnight America" by Mary Chapin Carpenter (again)

It just starts like an angsty church post.

I was really tense about going to choir today because it was my first time back at a church service for 3 1/2 months.  I don't go in the summer, but it's still rather far into September because of younger son being sick and being out of town [Washington National Cathedral, to the right].  Not being able to sit with the choir (I can't stand still because of my knee) just made things worse.

Yesterday, my knee was really sore, and I was worried because I thought that it was from swimming laps yesterday.  I've really gotten to enjoy swimming laps.  It's very peaceful and meditative and my mind wanders all over the place(which makes it difficult to keep track of how many laps I've swum*) so I didn't want that to be the cause!  I eventually realized that it wasn't because of the swimming - it was because I was tense about church today, and tense muscles pull on my knee.

I'm totally out of the habit of getting ready for church so, this morning, I was, literally, dusting off my clothes.  I haven't worn a dress since the last time I went to church in early June.  I yelled downstairs, "Put nylons on the grocery list" because my two pairs had huge runs and I had to decide which pair was less noticeable.  I had to searching for the (very old because I only use it for runs) nail polish bottle, which is clear but turning a yellowish color due to age so I'll have to remember to buy a new one. 

Obviously, I'm not much for dressing up.

The drive through the country to church was beautiful.  The last time, the leaves were new and spring flowers were finishing up.  Now the goldenrod is smiling at us from the fields and the leaves are starting to change on some of the trees.  We listened to a mixed tape - rock/musicals/folk.  Barbra Streisand followed the Indigo Girls.  I got stuck on another one of my favorite songs, "Goodnight America" by Mary-Chapin Carpenter...

I thought I had relaxed, but I didn't, really.  Older son said, after church, that he could tell that I was tense in the choir room.  I thought I was just paying attention to what people said and occasionally chatting.  Older son said that I might be able to fool others, but not family.

I've had a lot of trouble with my voice this summer, which I didn't even really realize because I wasn't in choir or teaching aerobics and my voice teacher was out of town.  I'm still working to get back to where I was last spring.  Trying to sing the higher notes quietly was very difficult today. 

I sat near the front in the regular pews, and I knew that I could stand for the anthem, and maybe the Gospel reading and the Eucharistic prayer.  It felt very strange to be sitting so much - during all the processing and recessing and the rest of the prayers.  It was a while before I got over that.  I guess I didn't offend those around me because they shook my hand very warmly at the sign of peace. 

I had a blast singing (what I could of) the anthem.  It's so fun to be back at choir again!  That's when I finally relaxed.  So, I can't stand like the rest of the congregation; I'm still having a great time in choir. 

By the time we got to the Lord's Prayer, I was very glad to be back (okay, and I even got teary). 

Told you it only started as an angsty post. 

Whether because of tension or standing, my knee was the worst it's been in a few weeks so I was glad to get home and take some Advil - not because of the pain, but because it's an anti-inflammatory, and the physical therapist said that there's still some swelling under the knee-cap. 

I've blogged before about "Goodnight America" by Mary Chapin Carpenter (from Between Here and Gone), but I didn't know how to put music on my blog back then. 

It feels strange to quote myself, but it's from two years ago so maybe I was a different person back then:

Overall, it's a quiet song, with a gentle guitar ostinato that continues for the entire song.  The ostinato deftly moves the song along - Mary-Chapin Carpenter's songs, regardless of how slow they are, always move. 

 I'm standin' at a traffic lights somewhere in West LA
Waitin' for the sign to change then I'll be on my way
The noise, the heat, the crush of cars
Just drives me up my nerve
And someone yells and blasts their horn 
And pins me to the curb

I'm a stranger here, no one you would know
My ship has not come in but I keep hopin' though
And I keep looking past the sun that sets above
Saying to myself, goodnight America

She sings about West LA, Houston, Atlanta, Charleston, and she eventually ends up in NYC - evoking each with just a few words.  I love this phrase in the fourth verse (emphasis mine):

I'm looking with the Pilgrims as upon some promise land
Dreaming with my heart outstretched as if it were my hand

That line gives me a very reaching sort of feeling.  Wonderful.

She ends with:

I'm a stranger here, no one you would know
I'm from somewhere else, but isn't everybody though
Don't know where I'll be when the sun comes up
Until then sweet dreams, goodnight America

Read the rest here (with some links to interesting photos).  The song gives me a certain feeling, and I was trying to find a photo that captured it.  While looking through our D.C. photos with older son today, I ran across the one to the right, which seems to go along with the song for me.  It has the right senses of space and place. 

* At one point, while swimming laps this summer, I kept forgetting whether I'd swum the 7th lap.  I might have done it three times.  Now, at the end of a lap, I square the number which helps me remember where I was.  The pool at the club where I teach aerobics is really small so I ended up squaring 27 by the end. 

"Spirituality for Extroverts" ?! (They've already got it!)

[I wrote this almost a month ago, but didn't post it because, although I don't criticize her post here, I didn't want to offend Phoenix Berries.  In a subsequent, comment discussion on her blog, she assured me that this wouldn't offend.  So, here it is.][Oh, and we had a wonderful time this weekend in Washington, D.C.  Pictures to come when I get organized!][Note:  I changed the wording from oxymoron which was the opposite of what I meant!]

As an aside at the end of a post featuring her adorable baby, Phoenix Berries mentions reading Spirituality for Extroverts - which made me stop in my tracks in two ways.  First, she's got a six-week-old baby, and I don't remember doing much lucid thought, much less thoughtful reading, at that point with any of my kids. 

Second, and the point of this post, it really seems like overkill.  "Spirituality for extroverts" sounds like "Money for the wealthy" or "How to be skinnier than a size 0."  To me, churches seem designed expressly for extroverts (along with practically everything else in life, except, maybe, computer programming departments).  The priest stands up in front of the congregation and invites people to the Wednesday night series:  "We had 85 people at last week's dinner!"

85 people.  That's when I stopped going to Wednesday night series (or much of anything else).  I realized, when he put the numbers in there, why I felt overwhelmed at these.  Why I went home every Wednesday with migraines and guilt.  I can relate to small groups of people (okay, slightly larger if I'm teaching aerobics).  Not huge crowds. 

Everything at churches is like that, though.  What's one of the major functions of any church, liberal or conservative?  Religious education for children.  Been there, taught that.  I ended up detesting Sundays because of trying to keep other people's kids in line.  I greatly admire classroom teachers.  I don't have that skill. 

And so it goes from there.  Most of the things to be involved at in churches are extrovertive, not introvertive.  Even "listening" things, like visiting shut-ins (yes, tried that too), I'm no good at, because you have to have something to say eventually.  Coming up with the right thing to say, quickly, is not my gift.* 

After a while, it felt like I didn't have any gift or ability that was useful in churches.  I have a two part, unposted, blog series titled "Does God Love Introverts?"**

This all explains why I was stopped in my tracks that there was even a need for a book like "Spirituality for Extroverts."

Now, I have great respect for Phoenix Berries, and she's a really fun and sweet person so I can't just write this off.  There must be something behind it. 

It turns out that part of it, probably, is our backgrounds.  She's got degrees in Theology which gives different emphases than being a regular church member.  It turns out that, unlike churches, where "retreats" are far and few between and generally involve as much of the entire congregation as would show up (I didn't), "retreats," as in "solitary time with God" seem to be more important at theological schools - which, I can see, would present a difficulty for extroverts.  If spirituality is often presented as depending on retreats and solitude, then a book like this would be quite necessary. 

I've never been on a retreat - solitary or congregational.  With three kids, taking an entire weekend to myself seems quite selfish.  And, I'm afraid to admit, if I did have the time to myself - time to think my own thoughts, just drift from one topic to another, nothing in particular that I had to do - I'm not sure I would want to have the goal of "listening to God" either.  Then, I'd have to feel guilty if I didn't hear anything. 

I never said I was a good Christian (though, if God wanted to speak to me while my mind was drifting, I'd be ecstatically happy). 

Contemplation also comes up, in many reviews of the book, as being something that, like solitary retreats, extroverts don't feel as good at.  It's not a subject that comes up in your average church congregation - people that are contemplating could better spend their time on committees or projects. 

You never know what you'll learn from blogs - even that being an extrovert doesn't make everything easy!

* Coming up with the perfect thing to say two days later - that I'm good at. 

**  Wow, was I in a mood that day!  Here's just one sentence from it:  " I can't be the perfect, North American, middle-class, extroverted, moneyed Christian so why would God listen?"

[Phoenix Berries has since written an interesting post on the book - here (with comments by some opinionated, random blogger. ]

Faith and My Triggers

 [I'm not sure that's the right title - "triggers" sounds like too strong a word - so maybe it should just be "things-that-set-me-off-and-get-me-into-old-bad-habits-of-thought-and-behavior."  That doesn't make for a good title, though]

Yesterday's post was really the second half of a very long train of thought on a walk yesterday evening. 

I started out trying to figure out why I'm still so emotionally sensitive right now, like a bunch of raw nerves, and trying to figure out how to get back to a more balanced state.  At one point, I realized that, although I pray for others as usual, I haven't prayed about this or talked to God about it. 

And my first thought was, "Of course you can't.  You haven't been to church all summer."  Which is true.  The service that I've been going to for the last four years, the service I finally got to feel comfortable at, always is dropped in the summer.  Back when Father Phillip was still here, we would go to his church in the summer, but it's just not the same without him - and that's enough, especially as crazy as the summer has been, to keep me from trying too much to go.

But more importantly, do I believe that God only listens to those who attend church regularly?

Of course not.  Why is that the first thing that enters my head?

It's because of having heard way too many sermons both equating church involvement with acceptability by God and heaping guilt on those not heavily involved. 

This is a big trigger for me.  I've gotten burnt out by over-involvement in churches before, and I have to carefully ignore any sermons that use guilt as a method of getting people to volunteer (click here for my thoughts on using guilt on people).  We've volunteered for many different things over the 25 years we've been actively involved in churches as adults - including the dreaded Sunday School - but right now I'm just in choir. 

I used to be very upset that, in the first few years we belonged to this church, I was turned down for everything I volunteered for.  If the church doesn't want me, maybe God doesn't either?! (which, by the way, is why I don't go to the 10 am service in the summer.  It's another trigger.  It brings me immediately back to the first year or two we went here when I felt so out of place and frustrated - and my faith took quite a beating). 

Now, looking back, I consider being turned down to actually have been a blessing.  I could have easily gotten over-involved and burnt out.  Also, if I'd been that involved in church, I wouldn't have spent as much time getting to know our neighbors, and I never would have had the time to be involved in Broadway dance. 

Some people will say that being in choir is lots of involvement because you have both rehearsals and services, which is true.   But it's all fun!  So I don't feel like I'm really doing anything at church (which made me realize that "enjoy" and "church" haven't often gone together for me unless linked by "not").

When I was trying to find that post on guilt, I ran across another old post of mine on an online book called So You Don't Want to Go to Church Anymore.  This quote from the book fits right in here:

It ... turns God into some kind of divine policeman, waiting behind the billboard with his radar gun. Who wants to grow close to a Father like that? We can’t love what we fear. You can’t foster a relationship with someone who is always checking your performance to make sure it’s adequate enough to merit his friendship. The more you focus on your own needs and failures, the more distant Father will seem to you. Guilt does that. It shoves us away from God in our time of need, instead of allowing us to run to him, presenting our greatest failures and questions so that we might receive his mercy and grace. Now we’ve invoked God and his punishment to shore up our sense of what it means to be a good Christian...

That’s the worst thing that religion does. Who is going to draw near to God if he’s always trying to catch people at their worst moments, or always punishing them for their failures? We’re too weak for a God like that. We will never be able to do enough to earn his love, and one slip-up and God’s right there looking down from above, ready to heap some calamity on us for failing to live up to his expectations. We use guilt to conform people’s behavior, never realizing the same guilt will keep them far from God.

I'm glad I ran across that again.  I needed to be reminded.

[More spider lily photo experimentation]

Of Faith and Triggers

I've had a number of new readers, recently (Welcome!), and I was realizing that my blog has had a certain tone this summer.  The tone has been musical, and about musicals, and books, and Paperhand Puppets, and So You Think You Can Dance, and our travels, and running around and being busy.

So, I was thinking, this evening, that it might be kind of odd, as I get back into choir again, for people to all of a sudden encounter posts about faith on my blog.  Not that that's new, over the years that I've had my blog, but I just haven't written much about faith this summer. But, I know that this can be a "trigger" for some people. 

For those who don't know the term, a trigger is something that brings people back to a situation or experience or former way of being - usually a bad one.  One trigger would be sounds or smells that bring a traumatized veteran back to war, or situations that bring a victim of a horrible crime back to the experience.  They're not just reminders; they put the person, emotionally and experientially, back where they were. 

Triggers don't have to be obvious to everyone.  You know those company "wellness programs?"  As an aerobics instructor, I know very well that different peoples' bodies work in different ways.  Not only that, but everyone is different, emotionally and psychologically, as well as physically.  So, although I try to design my routines to work for a wide range of people, I also give options to those who need to take things more or less intense, or more or less "bouncy."  Even with that, I know my routine is not going to work for everyone. 

So these "wellness programs" where, it seems, results are automatic for everyone if you do certain things, irritate me because I know they won't.  Junkfood Science quoted a man who was angered at the effect these wellness programs would have on his fiancee, a recovering, anorectic who had spent years in recovery ["Wellness" recommendations in purple]:

“Eat half your lunch today. If you eat out, take half in a doggy bag.” This is an exact trigger for disordered behavior. You’re aware how that process works....You know, if eating half my lunch is healthy, eating NO lunch must be even healthier. And no breakfast, too....So it begins. This story does not have a happy ending...

“The Challenge” is also big on counting. It’s right there on the poster I see every time I come in to work, every time I leave, and every time I use the bathroom – “Whether you’re counting calories, steps, minutes, inches or pounds: Your health counts!”

No. Don’t tell me – or, maybe even more important, don’t tell my fiancée – that we need to start counting calories, counting inches, counting pounds. She did that for half a decade and all it did was get her sick.

These recommendations not only don't work for everyone, they will harm some people. 

Back to faith.  I'll discuss churches, and praise or rant, because that's a social/institutional thing.  I'm far more careful about faith.

When I started my blog, I though I would write about social issues.  I've actually done fairly little of that because there are things I'd rather write about and share - the things I love.  And I'm glad when others either love them too or find them interesting. 

Except for trying to write as well as I can, I don't worry so much about those.  If you like Hello Dolly, or Mary Chapin Carpenter, or Rent, or hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains, or curvy women, great.  If not, I hope I haven't turned you off any of those, but, it's not the end of the world if I do.

However...

I really don't want to turn people off to God. Which could happen not only through something I write, but also could happen if I write something that triggers a bad experience in someone's past.

There are many people who've been abused by church hierarchies, or people in churches, or people supposedly acting in God's name.  I would hate for something I write to trigger a reaction and bring someone back to that. 

Which, has been a long post to say that when I write about faith, I'm just thinking out loud, [silently,] at my computer.  They're just my thoughts about my experiences.  I'm not trying to beat anyone over the head about it.  That's not my nature.  And, if discussions of faith are a trigger for you, it will be obvious which posts to skip.  There always will be more music, or nature, or musicals, or books, or rants, the next day.

Well, except for tomorrow because I've got part two of this post - about my own triggers where faith is concerned. 

[Spider flower blooming in my garden yesterday.  I was playing around with settings on the camera.  I find it very difficult to photograph spider lilies (top) or to get a good picture of spider flowers (bottom).]

"There are no ordinary people"

I've always loved this quote by C.S. Lewis.  Today, I found it, again, at Desiring God:

It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would strongly be tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. (The Weight of Glory, 14-15)

I try to remember this. 

BTW, blogging will be light for the next half week (at least) - we've got a busy weekend planned, and the weather is lovely so I'll be spending as much time outside as possible. 

Father C's Homilies

God has been so amazingly generous with me – in so many ways that I could never name them. One of those gifts is that God enabled me to preach and to teach. Sometimes I would go back to my chair after a homily and think, ‘Wow! That was good!’ But I know that the ‘goodness’ came completely from God, so I can take no credit. If these homilies and lectures and sermons help people, I simply thank God because God is the author and source of all that is worthwhile here. (From Father C's Bio page)

I've written before about Father C, about how welcoming and encouraging he was at Mass (previous Father C posts here, here, and here. He's retired now, and living on the west coast.  I read his former parish's bulletin online, and, as far as I can tell, he hasn't been back here since he retired almost two years ago. 

I don't write about others with their real names on my blog.  I'm going to make an exception here because one of the parishioners put up a website with many of Father C's homilies on it.  I save them for days when I really need encouragement.  If you go look at the website, you'll find out who he is. 

Father Phillip was the pastor of the Newman Center in Chapel Hill for 14 years.  He's a wonderful preacher who also taught homiletics at Duke's Divinity School.  One wonderful aspect of his homilies is that he always ends focusing on God.  No matter how much he might be remonstrating the community, he never stops there.  He always ends pointing to God.  Also, even when he is criticizing the community, he always includes himself. He never condemns others leaving himself appearing unspotted.  Another thing I really appreciated was that he was very honest about himself - his faults, his depression.  He relies very much on God's grace and preached that very strongly.  I always went home feeling more hopeful and with energy to try to do what God wants me to do. 

I knew that I was going to miss him very much when he left - particularly his homilies.  One evening last year, I looked him up online to see if there was anything about what he's doing now, and I found this website of homilies he's given.  I was very happy!  I save them for times when I need encouragement - particularly during my winter depression. 

The most encouraging homily I remember, the one to listen to when you feel that you can't be a Christian, that God wouldn't ever want to have anything to do with you, when you feel that you were a mistake, created on one of God's off days, is the homily for Trinity Sunday, June 11, 2006 (or click on FatherPhillip.com, choose Chapel Hill homilies, and choose June 11, 2006).  I loved the homily at the time, and I still remembered it unusually well.

I listened to it again this afternoon, and it's just as good as I remembered.  Not only that, but it also turned me around from what was bothering me this morning to, instead, focus on God again.

I've added the link to my sidebar section on faith, for when, as dear husband puts it, you need a Father Phillip "fix."

[Station of the Cross from the Newman Center Art page]