“One of the Cool Things About Being an Organist…”
One of cool things about being an organist is that I cannot carry my instrument with me. I should have a bumper sticker that reads, “have music…will travel.” Unlike a violinist or flutist, who cultivates their artistry with an intimacy formed between musician and an instrument they personally own, the organist relies on the generosity others. Since the pipe organ is an institutional instrument, the joy of being an organist includes the many people I get to meet and work with, and the many places my job takes me as I practice my artform.
After my Bach’s Lunch Concert on Friday, I drove to Laurinburg Presbyterian Church to prepare for a wedding there this weekend. As the organ there was unfamiliar to me, I needed to spend a few hours on the organ before Friday’s rehearsal. My friend Lee Harris is the organist, and she greeted me when I arrived. We caught up on professional news. Lee is also the organist at St. David’s Episcopal Church, Laurinburg, where the Rev. John Talk is now vicar.
Lee also filled me in on the pipe organ project at St. David’s, which has been a several year concern. This Sunday will be the first time sounds will be heard from the new organ at St. David’s. I remember well the first time our parish heard our C.B. Fisk pipe organ. It was Christmas Eve 2015, and the organ was used to accompany the hymn Silent Night. It was a holy moment for us, and I’m sure Sunday will be a holy moment for the people of St. David’s.
The organ at Laurinburg Presbyterian Church is a sizable instrument of three manuals and pedal, originally built by Schantz Organs in 1972. It has been added to and updated over the years, and it is clearly loved and well-maintained. The sanctuary doors all have signs to remind people to keep the doors closed such that the required constant temperature to keep the organ in good tune is maintained. Whether a pipe organ is a landmark instrument like those found in cathedrals, academic institutions, concerts halls, and large churches, or a simple village organ designed for hymn-playing, I almost always find the common thread of pride and love for the pipe organ that inhabits these special places that gather a community together. This was certainly true in Laurinburg.
As I practiced, I learned where the organ excelled, and in what ways it struggled. I got a feel for the action and how best to balance the various stops. I watched the sexton and other volunteers enter the church to prepare for the upcoming nuptials.
When it was time for the rehearsal, I made acquaintances with the minister, the piper, the lay leaders of the church, and the family and friends that will be witnesses to the wedding. I heard stories of pride in the beautiful pipe organ, stained glass windows, and facilities of the church. The minister and I exchanged battle stories from decades of ministry. We were evenly matched. I watched two young people stand together, surrounded by friends and family, prepare to enter holy matrimony before God and those who will witness it.
I have driven through Laurinburg many times over the years. I’ve admired the architecture of Laurinburg Presbyterian Church as I’ve driven passed. My family has attended the Highland Games in Laurinburg most years, including the one held two weeks ago. Yet, it never occurred to me that the Holy Spirit would bring me to Laurinburg to make music. In some very small way, my music and participation in Saturday’s wedding, makes me a part of the fabric of the spiritual life of Laurinburg, even if for just a brief moment.
The church, through the mystery of the Holy Spirit, brings us together into community. Through the mystery of the Holy Spirit, people are called, inspired, and guided to build beautiful buildings that reflect the beauty of holiness. Through the mystery of the Holy Spirit, we engage in beautiful liturgies in our yearning for a closer walk with God.
After the wedding rehearsal, I stayed for another hour to make registrational adjustments and to practice various passages. As I was leaving, I noticed the reflections of light the sun was scattering across the chancel in colorful hues from the stained glass as the sun fell low in the horizon. I looked around the room and thought about how many of life’s cherished moments have taken place within those hallowed walls since worship started there in 1907. I wondered if the people of Emmanuel came to Laurinburg Presbyterian Church and found inspiration as Emmanuel began forming plans in the 1910s about acquiring land and moving our parish from its site on Page Street, where we had worshipped since 1887, and where we laid our first cornerstone in 1891.
As I left the church, I heard the sounds of Laurinburg, familiar, yet different than those I normally hear. I paused and saw the soft glow of the sunset behind the church, and I heard the echoes of this Sunday’s anthem, fill my mind:
Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our foolish ways;
Reclothe us in our rightful mind;
In purer lives, Thy service find,
In deeper rev’rence, praise.
In simple trust like theirs who heard,
Beside the Syrian sea,
The gracious calling of the Lord,
Let us, like them, without a word,
Rise up and follow Thee.
Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
Till all our strivings cease:
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of Thy peace.
Breathe thro’ the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak thro’ the earthquake, wind, and fire,
O still small voice of calm!