Kathy took this amazing photograph during tonight’s Christmas Eve service from the back row of the balcony, from her place in the choir, looking at me with the sanctuary behind me. The church is quite dark, so I think it must have been towards the beginning of the service, perhaps when we were singing “Jesus Light.” I don’t know how she did it, but in this one photo I feel like she has really managed to capture the essence of what happens during this service – its solemnity, its beauty, its radiance.
Christmas Eve is always neat, but I think tonight may very well be the most beautiful one I can remember, particularly for the way in which everything melded together almost miraculously. I also was really pleased that the musicians were really quite well-prepared, more so than has sometimes been the case when a few too many things might be left to the last minute. Tonight we had basically everything nicely in hand, which of course allows you to let go and really bask in the spirit’s glow. (It’s hard to do that when your knuckles are white with worry.) At least the choir was prepared to that extent. If anyone had some last minute curves thrown at them, it was the three violins, Ann LeMar Heide, Sarah Rouse Clark and Abby Knop. We had absolutely no rehearsal whatsoever until one hour before the service started- and during the service I had to rewrite the Silent Night accompaniment to accomodate three violins- and Jan Mohr forgot the music for Gesu Bambino, so during the sermon I was frantically writing out the violin obliggato for Ann Heide. So that added a little edge of excitement to the proceedings, but that’s okay- I thrive on that, at least in the right dosage.
The songs the choir sang tonight really embodied what I try to do . . . they involved a lot of different people, they covered a pretty impressive range of styles, they challenged the group without giving anyone an ulcer, they were accessible to the congregation but not overly sappy or simplistic, and without fail every single song fit its particular moment in the service.
Lest all of this sounds like boasting – and I suppose it is boasting to some extent – I should add that what makes all of this possible is the blessing of God. . . in the talents He’s bestowed on these musicians and on me, and in the inspiration given us. Rattling around in my pocket tonight is something I’ve been carrying around ever since my 25th class reunion at Luther. It’s a small clay piece with the college’s motto painted on it: Soli Deo Gloria – to God alone be the glory. It’s good to be reminded of that on occasions like this.
High points. . . During the prelude, our three violinists played a total of six Christmas carols arranged for three violins, and as I walked into the sanctuary tonight the sound of that gave me shivers- that’s how lovely it was. And you would have thought they had been rehearsing for a week.
The entrance of light, during which the candles in the sanctuary were lit one by one (the place was completely dark) the choir sang a song of mine called “Jesus Light” – with Anneka Barrow singing the verses of it as she did for the Christmas program two weeks ago. The simplicity and beauty of that young solo voice, giving way to the warm harmonies of the choir, set just the right mood for the start of the service. The words:
As the night descends
and another day ends,
we gather with family and friends
Around the Light- Jesus Light-
which warms the cold of darkest night-
Around this bright, holy Light
which brings the hope of love and peace this night. . . . etc.
The hymns we sang tonight were accompanied not only by Randy on the organ but also by the three violinists as well as Liz Christiansen on the glockenspiel. I first heard a glockenspiel play along with hymns at Dad and Sonja’s church in Madison and now that we have two percussionists from the Racine Symphony in our congregation, I can do this. What a touch of delight that adds! And Liz did it not only for tonight’s service, but for the 4:00 afternoon service as well. Now that’s dedication !
The choir sang one of my very favorite contemporary Christmas songs, “Wonderful Counselor” by John Michael Talbot. I have this secret hope that someday he’ll get to hear this arrangement that I’ve made of it for choir. I’m pretty sure he would like it – and if by chance he didn’t, I’m hoping that as a Franciscan monk he would be gentle with my feelings and wouldn’t hit me over the head with his guitar in disgust.
The choir is so amply voiced right now – 23 voices in all – that I actually did one piece for just the men (6 tenors and 5 basses) and another for just the women (4 sopranos and 8 altos.) The guys piece was something I actually put together for the Carthage Choir some years back – a vigorous arrangement of Rise Up, Shepherd, and Follow. They rocked. For the women, I fashioned an arrangement of Infant Holy, Infant Lowly which drew upon the opening phrase of “holy, holy, holy” as a sort of counter melody played by the three violins. After the service, this was the piece which Pastor Walter singled out as his favorite for the way in which such a simple hymn was somehow intensified.
During communion, three things were sung. One of them was Gesu Bambino sung by Jan Mohr, with Ann Lemar Heide on violin. Jan has been going through some really rough stuff this fall (and in fact all year) and I made a point of giving her two solos tonight because I knew it would do her some good. And it did- and she sang so well, even on Gesu Bambino, which caught her by surprise. (Maybe that helped her somehow)
After that – O my God! Kate Barrow and Kathy sang an absolutely sublime contemporary song called “Breath of Heaven” (co-written by Amy Grant.) They have sung this every Christmas Eve for the past ten or twelve years, and nothing says Christmas to the congregation like this. And on the way home tonight, I was reminding Kathy that the two of them had not sung this song together since Christmas Eve last year. . . and yet it sounded like it had been scrupulously rehearsed. It’s amazing how a song can penetrate you so deeply that you can summon it up, right down to the smallest of details, after all that time. (They were busy tonight also singing on “Wonderful Counselor” and Kate also did a seldom-heard but haunting John Denver song called “All this Joy” as part of the sermon. It was cool.
After that came the traditional Greg Berg rendition of O Holy Night- which went okay but not as good as I would have liked. By the end of this service, I’m a wrung out dishrag with a voice to match; the emotional taxation of the night leaves me just spent by the time I have to wheeze my way through this little “ditty.” There was no booing or hissing when it was done so I guess I didn’t disgrace myself too badly, but it also made me wonder why I do this to myself year after year.
The answer is – because it feels so right to do it, even if the vocalism may be a bit wavery or quavery at times. And tonight is not about achieving perfection. It’s about joining the angel’s gloria with our own imperfect songs. . . and when we do so with our hearts in the right places, humbly asking for help, amazing things can happen. It’s what made tonight such an amazing, holy night of worship and praise.
There were lots of hugs afterwards – including quite a few from returning young people back from college – who had nice things to say about the music we shared tonight. But my most favorite moment came to me when the wife of Steve Samuelsen (a brand new member of the choir and someone who just retired from the parish ministry) came up to me to say that this was the most beautiful Christmas Eve service she’s ever attended – and she meant that with all her heart. It’s at moments like that when I have to really grab hold of that little Soli deo Gloria medallion in my pocket. This couple came to us from another congregation in town that’s probably the most vibrant in terms of young people in the congregation and in scope of mission – and their minister of music is an amazing young man who is the absolute paragon of organization and skill. When it comes to that, he is Abraham Lincoln to my Millard Fillmore, if you know what I mean. I’m sure it’s been an interesting challenge for Steve to adjust from a choir where all the repertoire they will be singing is posted on the bulletin board six months ahead of time, if not more . . . to a choir whose director often does not know Thursday morning just what we’re going to sing for the weekend and who tends to get his very best ideas after a church service is already underway. Despite my tendency to fly by the seat of my pants- and to force the choir to doing some of that flying as well. . . Steve seems to be settling into what I think he described as “an utterly different landscape” for making music, one with a bit less planning ahead, a few more curves thrown along the way, but plenty of fun and satisfaction as well. And it’s he best way I know for gaining a glimpse of heaven itself . . . a glimpse of what that first Christmas night was like. In fact, it’s the ONLY way I can lead the choir to that place of shivers and goosebumps. It’s how I’m put together. And I am so grateful to stand in front of a wonderful choir that puts up with that side of me and who sings so wonderfully, even as curves are being thrown at them left and right.
Sorry to blabber on for so long- I should have been in bed an hour ago – I have to play for church tomorrow morning as well and then Kathy’s family plus assorted extra come to our house tomorrow. (Later today, actually.) But tonight was like a game with five touchdown passes thrown- and I can’t quite stop thinking about it and giving thanks to God for the choir of wide receivers with whom I get to do business and who catch every ball I throw them, including the ones that they didn’t even see coming. Where did that metaphor come from, I wonder? Maybe from my QB / voice student Trevor. All I know is that even the greatest coach in the world does not win games without talented and dedicated players on the field – and tonight I felt like Vince Lombardi standing in front of the golden age Packers. Except that instead of winning a football game, we were in concert with the angels on this most holy night of the year.