Blanketed

Yesterday was unbelievable.

I almost said “indescribable” but I’m going to try to describe it so…

Yesterday morning began as Sundays usually do for me. At church around 7:45. Warm-up with the band (2nd Sunday…) and practice the psalm. This week, instead of drinking coffee and chatting with members between services, I ran a quick errand to Target because I had forgotten, in all my trips to various stores over the last several days, to get plates and napkins. Usually, I don’t like to use disposable plates but I expected between 40 and 70 people to be at the house for dinner and I just don’t have that many “real” plates.

After the second service I raced home to finish setting up chairs and start boiling noodles to put into the roaster/crock-pot things I borrowed from church. The sauce was coming along nicely. I made a more “pasta fresca” version with no meat and pretty much had things ship-shape by 3:00 when I had to leave to go back to church.

Oh. I kind of did forget to eat any lunch. So I had another oatmeal bar on my way back to the church.

The service went beautifully. The choir did an outstanding job. The only teeny tiny small thing is that one of the sopranos who flats (badly) was there. She doesn’t always come to rehearsal and so sometimes the flatting problem can be worse because, well, she has not practiced enough. So, on the Paulus “Pilgrim’s Hymn” we flatted about 1/2 step. But they flatted together, which is an important thing. That means about three of the people in the congregation knew what was happening (SB, the woman for whom I’m filling in; ZH, who is also a classmate of mine and choir director at a big church on the West side of town…in the woods; and ME, the children’s choir director who sang with St. Olaf and NLC, etc. etc. So they’re the only ones who could tell.)

It’s a fine line a church choir director walks, if they are conscious of it. On the one hand, you are dealing with volunteers. You are not “performing” per se as much as you are preaching through music. So the ideals of performance (especially the ideal of “perfectionism”) is not one of your top goals. Clear diction is #1…assuming you’ve chosen repertoire that illuminates the texts of the day and not just some pieces that’s flashy and “fun” to sing.

On the other hand if your musicality is so bad that it is distracting and people can’t bear to listen, then all the great diction of the great text is for nothing.

So you work on intonation, and proper vocal production and phrasing and dynamics and breathing and a million other things. But at the end of the day, or at the end of the service, it’s not really about the performance. It’s about “was the message proclaimed in a way that could be heard?” At a certain level, the choir director has some small concern for whether the hearers are prepared to hear the message…but that’s another topic and more of a team effort with the ordained partners.

Anyway, back to yesterday afternoon. At the end of the service, I think the choir did an outstanding job of proclaiming the message of the day. Which I won’t get into here, but which had to do with the incarnational aspects of the Christmas story and how God was/is/will be present in the world not only through that person Jesus but through our work and actions and gifts too.

Oh. Ok. Well, that was pretty much it. But feel free to ask more questions in the comments

So then we all raced back to my house. Two cars actually beat me here! I put them to work lighting candles and setting out cheese and such. And as people arrived we put their contributions to the feast on the big table. round 5:30 I made the announcement that dinner was ready and we were going to eat because several people had to race back to church for another rehearsal!

Now, I’ve had a lot of musicians in my house. And we’ve done a lot of singing over time. Last summer we had vespers at the house every Sunday evening. But I’m here to tell you that our singing of the table grace last night was the best so far.

People loved the sauce. They had never had “nordeast italian” meat sauce. I told people it was intellectual property stolen from my former mother-in-law who is a Ferraro. Which is all true.

Folks brought salads and chocolate and breads and wine. Many nice bottles of wine. One of the basses brought a beautiful bottle of Malbec that didn’t get opened. He’d brought the same bottle to the party last month at MM’s house and I’d commented on how good it was. People ate and drank and laughed and generally had a great time.

And I did too. AND I had the wherewithal to stop and look and enjoy the moment. Not spend the whole party running around worrying about details.

It started to snow during the party so when people left (they were all gone by 7:30) there was a coating of snow on the sidewalk. This morning the place was blanketed with it looks like about 5 inches of snow. And as I took care of the dog, letting her in and out, I realized that I still felt blanketed by the warmth, laughter, good food and loving fellowship of last night.

It will be hard to say good-bye to these people in August when my time is finished with them. I’m already praying that my next call will be as good. And longer.

This morning’s aftermath: