Notably, following both of my mastectomies, these women came together and pooled their resources to bring me a little cheer and an huge expression of love. They showered me with gifts, including a gift certificate for a massage from a person who specializes in healing massage, items of clothing that button up the front so I wouldn't have to put them over my head, money toward my tattoo, a gift card for a delightful local tea room, gift cards for Joann Fabric so I can use my new sewing room, and tickets to our local theatre, Geva, so Michael and I can enjoy a show together when life settles down. Truly, these women and their thoughtfulness and generosity of spirit and resources overwhelm me.
Yesterday we had our Christmas concert. I love any chance to perform with these beautiful people, but I especially love singing Christmas concerts with them. The music we sing, some ancient and some contemporary, is so beautiful, and the texts so compelling. Even our rehearsals seem to offer me a chance for worship and devotion - an opportunity pastors often covet, particularly at this time of year. But in this music, I am given the chance to enter the mystery that is Christ's birth, and dwell there - sometimes in unity and unison, then enchantingly breaking into simple harmonies, and occasionally into dramatic six or eight part complexity. I don't know any better prayer than to lift my voice and sing in perfect harmony, "Glory to God!"
Last year before the concert, we sat together and reflected on what we were about to do, and what it meant to us. I offered, "I really believe this stuff we are singing! Not only do I believe it, but I believe it is something worth singing about. And so it is a joy and privilege to do it with you all today." As I have thought back on that, it has become more and more true. Not all the music we sing is sacred, in that it is not all about God or Christ or Mary (though much of it is). But to me it is all sacred because it all calls on the beautiful potential of life and love and beauty and of each of us contributing to its performance, both singers and collaborating musicians. Not to sound overly dramatic, but I truly feel that being a part of this is a religious experience, one I get to experience every Sunday night.
But I especially feel it at our concerts. This year's Christmas concert fell on the third Sunday in Advent, known as Gaudete or Rejoice Sunday. It is the day in the midst of the season of Advent, the season we wait and hope, when we remember with sparkling eyes what is coming - and rejoice in it! I was delighted that I would get to do that in song this year. Our conductor urged us to let the zest she knows we have to shine through in our performance. "You know your notes, now just shine!"I made every effort as we sang to think about the words, and to make my face look like how I felt about that.
Our closing piece was a dramatic version (by Z. Randall Stroope) of the Magnificat, the beautiful song Mary sings when she learns she will bear the Son of God. (Also, incidentally, a text that is featured on the 3rd Sunday in Advent.) The harmonies are tight, the accompaniment is four hands piano. There are occasional periods of unison or two part harmony, some parts unaccompanied, one solo section - the variation captures the intensity and variation of the original text, which was quite revolutionary, talking about the mighty being brought down and the lowly lifted up, the hungry being filled and the rich sent away empty, and overall about how God makes good on God's promises, as God has done for generations before and will do for generations following. It is one of my favorite passages in Scripture (though my parishioners will tell you I say that about almost every text!).
As we sang this remarkable work, I did as I had done before - imagining the text and the message so that my face might reflect its meaning. But I found that I didn't get very far before I was so moved by it all that I couldn't sing - I was crying. "For God is mighty, and has done wondrous things to me... He plucked the mighty from their seats, exalting the humble... The hungry will be filled with good things in remembrance of his mercy. He helped Israel, as promised..." I quickly tried to think of something else so I could at least sing the notes. But then came the dramatic end in bold and beautiful harmony: "Glory to the Father! Glory to the Son! Glory to the Holy Ghost! As it was in the beginning and ever shall be, world without end. Amen! Amen! Amen!" I couldn't resist. I was completely overcome by the beauty, the drama, the impact, the setting, the women around me, and the promise on which my life and faith are based. This, this is what it feels like to have worshiped.
Glory to God indeed! Amen! Amen! Amen!
To learn more about Concentus, visit our website: http://www.concentus.org/home
Or see this recent article in Rochester Woman Magazine: http://www.rochesterwomanmag.com/rwm/queen-of-arts-creating-beautiful-music-through-voice/
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