As the Breath gave them ability

From Concentus' 2007 season.

This past Sunday my wonderful women's choir, Concentus, sang its spring concert: "The Many Languages of Love and Nature." When Gwen, our conductor first told us about her plan for this concert - that we would be singing in many different languages, and several folks songs from different countries - I admit I felt a bit of dread. The skill I bring to this group is strong rhythm and a knack for sight-reading. I learn notes very easily, and then sing them confidently in the right place.

Singing in foreign languages is decidedly not my gift.

Why am I not good at languages? As a musician with a good ear, I should be. As someone who grew up singing and praying in German, I should be. As someone who has always grasped grammar rules intuitively, I should be. And yet, I struggle: I struggled in German class (one of few Bs I received in college); I struggled in Slovakia (after a whole year of being immersed, I could barely follow a conversation or express my basic needs). It is continually frustrating for me, because I would so love to be able to speak another language well.

So even the day of our concert, I went in with trepidation. Though I had all the notes, there were texts I was still fudging my way through (one in Japanese and one in Romanian, in particular, and even one in Gaelic where we literally sing the same phrase over and over). I decided I would do my best, and hope no one would be there who could speak those languages.

It was not lost on me that this concert was to be sung on Pentecost. In the church year, this is the day we celebrate the Holy Spirit coming. You see, Jesus promised at his ascension and several other times that he would send a Holy Spirit, an Advocate, to be with his disciples after he left, so they would not be left orphaned. And so on this dramatic day, 50 days after Easter, the day we call the birthday of the Church, here is what happened:

"When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. ²And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.³Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. ⁴All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.5 Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. ⁶And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each.⁷Amazed and astonished, they asked, ‘Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? ⁸And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?"

(Acts 2:1-8, NRSV)

How appropriate, I thought, that we would be singing in eight different languages on Pentecost! I joked to myself that maybe that good ol' Holy Spirit would chime in at just the right moment and I would suddenly be able to sing in Japanese, after all. I even quipped to my congregation during the announcements that, if they would like to continue the celebration of Pentecost by hearing music in many languages, as the Spirit gave us ability, they could come to my concert.

October 13, 2013, Artisan Works.

What started as a joke turned into a profound experience. A few minutes before the concert, one of our members, a counselor whose particular interest is in the many benefits of mindfulness, led us through a breathing meditation to center us for our performance. As she kept talking about breath, I kept imagining Breath - Divine Breath, entering me, calming me, giving me the life I needed and the peace I craved, enabling me to sing and praise and rejoice. And I did feel the Comfort and Encouragement that is promised to come with that same Holy Spirit.

I will tell you, I did not sing all the right words on Sunday. I still fudged my way through Romanian, Japanese, Gaelic, and e.e. cummings English. But you know what? People understood what we were saying. The breath, and the Breath, that carried our melodies gave us the ability, and spoke to us and to our audience; everyone understood what they needed to because of that Breath.

Often Concentus sings religious music. This concert, for the most part, that was not the case. It was almost all secular text about nature and springtime and love and longing and homeland. But for me, considering the breath and the Breath turned it into a religious experience, an experience in which it didn't really matter what words we said or how well we said them. Because what mattered more was what carried the words, and how they were received and embraced by the ears and hearts that heard them.

I believe we all experienced a Holy Breath that afternoon... right pronunciation or not.