The Man Behind the Choir Screen…
When I started working at Emmanuel in 2010, one of my assigned duties was to compose an article for the monthly printed newsletter called, “Reflections.” Musically topical at first, the articles then moved into historical presentations as I researched various things about the parish that interested me. Much of this was inspired by the $6 million dollar capital campaign the church was embarking on to build a new church building. The church would have had slate floors, a new organ, high ceilings and clerestory windows, a large choir area, stained glass, seating for 450, transepts that included a handbell gallery on one side and a musician’s gallery for brass, strings, soloists, etc. on the other, cathedral chair seating, and a baptismal font in the center of the nave that people could touch and see, reminding them of their baptismal covenant every time they entered the building. It was to be fully accessible, with ample facilities and room for the size, needs, and types of people of today. The church was to include a lower level with eight new classrooms for our ministry partner, Episcopal Day School. But it didn’t happen. The campaign failed and a new strategic plan was developed. Some were pleased at that outcome. Others, including myself, felt that it was a real lost opportunity for ministry and growth.
After the scandalous resignation of our rector in 2014, our parish continued through a period of struggle. I interviewed for a new position in Florida; the search committee chair even let me drive her Porsche 911 Carrera convertible. But Emmanuel was in the middle of a renovation and organ project. The people of Emmanuel had made a commitment to a shared vision for our music ministry, and in turn, I decided it was my responsibility and duty to remain faithful and committed to Emmanuel. Finances became very tight and it took a decade to finish the organ. It wasn’t the easy choice, but it was the right one.
In those years of struggle, “Reflections” was absorbed into the weekly E-mmanuel. I felt less inclined to write about music, and more stimulated to write about faith-oriented topics. During the pandemic, when our world was filled with real fear and political chaos, the E-mmanuel was a way for me to help keep the community knit together, while we were kept physically apart. Over the years, the format has provided a forum for musical teaching moments, a place to share personal stories, muse on topics religious and spiritual, and sometimes just simply be a cheerleader for Emmanuel. In all honesty, the practice of writing each week is a centering, healing balm.
Ever since I can remember, I’ve enjoyed writing. The earliest examples of my compositional prowess are displayed in a book of stories complied by my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Banes in 1984-85. The opening theme is a review of our first-grade field trip to Eckert’s Orchard to pick apples. I expressed my delights in the apple pizza and the tractor. I even closed the piece with a proper conclusion, “the and.” Other themes about Christopher Columbus, who, accordingly to my paper was brave and sailed the seven seas, the birth of my sister Carly, and an in-depth narrative about the Mayflower and how the pilgrims and “Indians” became friends and how they had a “selabrasin”[sic] together, flesh out the tome. There were themes about Christmas and Easter, our trip to the St. Louis Zoo, and our class attending a play about Little Red Riding Hood. One particularly funny theme revolved around the question, “What would you be if you were a gift?” I wrote that I would be a ball, so that people would like me and play with me a lot. That little composition always makes me laugh, but I’m sure it probably reflected the real psychological desires of a lonely child yearning for friends, which at the time, I didn’t have many. It was a time when children were expected to work out their own problems, and we did, and we’re probably all the better for it in the end.
In grade school I would repeatedly place in the St. Clair County Young Authors competition. In junior high, I wrote this elaborate Hardy Boys-esque mystery adventure book. In high school, I was the activities editor of the yearbook. In college, I was the co-editor of the newspaper. Writing has been an outlet, an escape, a joy, a challenge, a method of personal expression, and a way to form my thoughts. Sometimes the product is rubbish; other times the output is generally productive and perhaps even contributive in a meaningful and positive way, at least that is my hope.
Sometimes I sit down to write my weekly missive, and it’s already fully formed in my head. Other times, like this week, I start writing with only a few foggy ideas at best. That being the case, perhaps the only real merit of this week’s E-mmanuel is that for those who don’t know me well, this week’s submission provides an opportunity to know and understand that guy in vestments who sits Oz-like behind the wooden reredos, playing the organ and directing the choir. I’ll admit, it’s a very nice place to spend a life making music.
When I’m not focused on music, however, I wander into all kinds of interests. I enjoy playing golf, although my efforts only produce an average result. My older daughters are learning tennis so they have brought me back to the courts, reenacting the days my sister and I would play at St. Clair Country Club. I love to read, but there is never enough time to do so. I love history and art and antiques, but don’t have the time or resources to collect to the extent I’d like. Unlike those who live a virtuous life of minimalism, I favor the other end of that balance and happily describe myself as a maximalist. It drives my wife crazy.
I love cars and am addicted to watching a guy named Bill on his YouTube channel, Curious Cars. His humor is raw, but I love his presentations and persona. He feeds my childhood dream of owning a vintage Mercedes, which I know is an absolute money pit. Good sense doesn’t seem to taper my desire for a 1970s or 80s sedan, diesel preferred, perhaps even a convertible. I owned a Cutlass Supreme convertible for 14 years, which I still regret selling. There was nothing better than driving that car on a cold Arizona winter morning, the top down, windows up, the heat blasting, a cup of hot coffee in one hand, and in the days before smoking became absolutely taboo, a cigarette in the other.
I love to travel. I love good food and cooking. I love to be spontaneous. I love to people watch, particularly in an airport or restaurant. I love good conversation, good laughter, and a good drink. I love to work in the yard and mow the grass. I hate to exercise, but I pretend I’m going to someday. I love family and big meals and a good game of pinochle. I loved being a REALTORÒ, selling homes and guiding clients through the process. I loved taking classes in college that had nothing to do with my major. I loved teaching at the university level but disliked the changing scene of academic administration. I love anything and everything related to the beach or the lake. I like to stay up late. I like to sleep in when I can. I like to smile at strangers. I like to wave at drivers I pass in town. I like nice clothes. I appreciate a vista. I don’t like complainers, whiners, or pessimists. I don’t generally care to talk politics because people can’t have civil political discussions anymore. I’m a church nerd and love anything and everything about church buildings, history, etc. I love working with choirs. I love leading a hymn at the organ with a congregation that can sing. Now look at that, I’m back writing about music again…which reveals one of my character flaws…I have a hard time staying on topic.
This week I stumbled across a video produced a year ago by English composer Joanna Forbes L’Estrange. I commissioned her in 2019 to write a set of sung prayers, known as the Preces and Responses, for Choral Evensong. Since their publication, they have gone viral, with many thousands of copies sold. They have been sung in every major cathedral in England and all over the United States. My colleagues hate me because of their success, but I was just the catalyst. The brilliance is all due to Joanna’s skill and gift. In the video, which is part of a series she calls, Behind the Dots, Joanna discusses the piece at length. While I’ve used these sung prayers several times now for Evensongs at Emmanuel, and commissioned the work, I still learned something about them from her video. Yet, it was in the opening 45 seconds that made me smile the most. I’ll allow to experience it yourself here if you’d like:
https://youtu.be/jxlLJbbFoRg?si=bmVgTPvVOzUbSQZR
Sentence after sentence I write about myself. But if I step away from the drivel, and view it with a broader lens, it all points back to God. All these expressions of joy or displeasure are simply my recordings of the human experience. We all have them. Perhaps try the exercise of writing them down. And what is the origin? The cause of all of this? God. I am a child of God. You are a child of God. We are all created in God’s image.
Psalm 139, in particular, speaks to me:
13 For it was you who formed my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.
In your book were written
all the days that were formed for me,
when none of them as yet existed.
17 How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 I try to count them—they are more than the sand;
I come to the end—I am still with you.
So here we are, together, living out the days that were formed for us, by the God who formed us each…beautiful, unique, special, and loved. May we be mindful of this. May we share our lives and experiences with one another. May we learn, teach, and delight in it all. And to those who made