stained glass

This morning, while doing my usual worship warm-up and prep at the piano, I looked back at the Tiffany window that graces the rear wall of the Sanctuary and it looked as if someone turned a spotlight on behind it.  It glimmered and sparkled like I had never seen before.  Maybe it is the special angle of the sun at this time of year; maybe I was just in the right place at the right time.

The music ministry at The Park is growing both in size and its breadth.  One of the ways that we are trying to celebrate the wonderful diversity within our congregation is by drawing from many musical and cultural traditions.  So, we started a Gospel Choir which has rehearsed over the past three weeks.  It is a small group (we are going to grow as we go!) that sang in worship for the first time this morning. As might be expected, folks were a little nervous; and quite frankly, the first part of rehearsal made me nervous, as I sensed we were lagging vocally and struggling to get a good unison sound.  However, we were well-prepared and I felt that pushing too hard was not going to help us relax.

So many choral directors struggle with this same experience: we wish we could bottle our rehearsals and take them out for Sunday mornings.  But we work with human beings who have emotions, who wake up late or who struggle sleeping, or whose voices are just not as warmed up at 10 a.m. on Sunday as they are on Friday evening at 8 p.m.  There is a delicate balance that we sometimes struggle to maintain – being gracious and affirming, while at the same time challenging people to offer their best.  When we don’t get what we want or expect from folks, it is easy to get frustrated or even angry and I find that those of us who do full-time ministry in the church work have the hardest time of it.  We work especially hard to get things just right – our anthems, our sermons, the bulletin formatting, the preparation of the worship space.  Just like Tiffany, we put a lot of work into the details – all very important, mind you – and there is an art and a craft to what we do.

But what the Spirit whispered into my ear, and what I shared with the choir during a rehearsal break, is that we are like that stained glass.  We did all that we could to prepare but ultimately it is not about us.   We are beautiful, multi-colored, sometimes-imperfect but always-loved pieces of glass that the Creator shines through.  We are nothing without the light, the living energy and presence of God through us when we open our mouths to pray, preach or sing.  And the beauty of the window is the way that the colors combine and overlap to bring an even greater beauty and richness to the whole.  It is more beautiful than we can even imagine!

I won’t claim that our singing was perfect, but I do want to believe that God got all the praise as we let the Light shine through us this morning.  It is a funny spiritual principle – the less tightly we hold onto outcomes, the more we can be drawn into a different, deeper sort of participation.  And when we get out of the way and let God do God’s work through us, it creates a space for others to celebrate God’s goodness and love with us, too.  And that is worship in the end, isn’t it?  It’s not a highly self-concious act but something that helps to redirect our focus and attention to the One who is worthy of all our praise.

Transitions

There hasn’t been much blogging going on as there have been some major transitions happening in my life. In early March, I received a call to serve as the Minister of Music at the Park Avenue Christian Church in New York City. It’s an amazing opportunity to continue doing the kind of ministry that I have been about at Trinity for the past seven years – bringing music from the best of many traditions into worship, strengthening the congregation’s musical voice and finding new and exciting ways of bringing the Word to life through music and the Arts. Of course, the context and the particulars of the new congregation are different so there will be a time of discernment and settling in as I enter that new space. But I have had such a wonderful time getting to know my new pastor, the Rev. Alvin Jackson, and the creative juices and energy are already flowing. I am very excited about the new possibilities that this opens up for me musically, spiritually and personally. I have my house on the market, move to New York in late May and will begin my ministry at The Park on June 8.

As you might expect, these past few weeks have been a profound time of reflection for me. I mentioned in a farewell message to the Trinity congregation that I feel a bit like Janus, the two-faced god of Roman mythology, who looks into the future and the past simultaneously. It’s strange to assess the work you have done in one place, celebrate the growth and transformation that have occurred, but then begin planning and dreaming about a new place. There is a sense of loss and grief at leaving the wonderful people that I have known for seven years, but the Trinity congregation is genuinely excited for me and in so many conversations over this past week I have heard beautiful words of affirmation and support. We have accomplished much together, and though it is easy to assume that this is by virtue of our skills or resources, I believe that it is simply because God has been with us in it all, blessing our efforts and intentions.

Tonight I was reminded of that in a powerful way. We had a rehearsal for the Trinity Gospel Choir which will sing in worship next week. This ensemble was a new venture for us this year – a way to be more intentional about learning music from the sacred African-American tradition. Trinity is a largely white church and music from the African-American tradition is not something that always comes easily or naturally to all of us. By that, I mean we sometimes struggle with challenging, syncopated rhythms, find it scary to rely on our ears rather than a piece of music, or to enjoy the sense of bodily freedom and spontaneity that can be such a beautiful part of music-making in the black church. Our intentions to perform music from this tradition were certainly genuine but the results have not always had the sort of authenticity that you would find if you were worshiping in a church where Gospel music was the lingua franca. But try we did, and last May, our choirs had a rare opportunity to partner with an African-American collegiate chorus, the Citywide Gospel Ministries, performing a piece by the composer, Fred Onovwerosuoke. During that time we forged a very special bond with the group. We ate together, we sang together, we prayed together – and as a result we found such a powerful sense of unity in Christ. This process didn’t happen overnight but it took time, grace and tenacity. And the gifts that we received in the process were more than just musical. They helped us to sing from the heart, to let our sometimes stiff hips and shoulders sway to the beat and to begin to let go of our fears about getting it “right”.

Tonight, four members of the Citywide choir came to rehearsal and again I was reminded of the rich blessings that they have brought to us. Not only did they bring strong, expressive voices and a passion for music, but they brought loving encouragement about the style of the music, freedom to express ourselves (when we sing “lift our hands to Jesus” we can actually DO that!!) and hearts full of love for God. Several times in the rehearsal I was caught up in the spirit of the music and amazed at the energy, the quality of the sound, and the upward focus of the music. And as we concluded in a circle for prayer, I was profoundly grateful that God brought them into our lives.

Our little Gospel Choir is never going to rival the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir but that’s not the point. What matters is that, as we have welcomed the gifts and spirit of others, they have changed us profoundly, opening us to new ways of expressing our heartfelt prayer and praise to the God who is worthy of all our praise. I am reminded that music in the church is not primarily about a style, an instrument, the size or skill of the choir, or even the personality of the musician who is directing. Don’t get me wrong, a fine pipe organ or piano, a strong choir and able leadership are all to be celebrated. But in worship we are invited to respond to God with our own voices, as strong or as weak as we feel they are, and return to God just a small portion of the love, goodness and blessing that has been so generously given to us! All of worship – all of life- is an Offertory: a time to remember that God is the source of all that is and that we are called to live in humble dependence and trust.