Making a joyful noise

This morning I went to church. I know, exciting, huh? What a great opening sentence.

When I'm in Marion for the weekend, I attend a small Presbyterian church. I dearly love this church, as it was the church we attended when Heidi and I were small and living in Marion. When I moved back, they welcomed me with open arms, and many memories! The people in this church know and love me(for the child I was, and the grownup I've become), and NOTICE when I'm not there...and I hadn't attended church (in MARION) for over 6 weeks. I had valid excuses ready (3 weeks of influenza type stuff where I lost my voice, and was too tired to really get out of bed, and then 3 weeks of my sister and brother-in-law being in KS and wanting to see/hear them speak on Sundays), but despite my excuses, when I am absent, I am always given a hard time.

Now, showing up on Sundays to sit in a pew is only the start of what the congregation feels is my obligation to the church. As I said, this is a small congregation, and we all have to pitch in in order for it to function. One of my roles is to sing in the small church choir.

I love music, whether singing, playing or just sitting and enjoying. After the first Sunday of my attendance, the people sitting around me told me that I needed to become a member of the choir. This was not a request, instead, it was a requirement. I do enjoy singing in the choir, and like the fact that musically I still belong to something. After graduating from college, I found that there really aren't many musical opportunities for anyone my age. In the past I've driven back and forth from Wichita to be part of the Wichita Symphony Chorale (I'm not able to this year because of my class schedule, but I'm hoping that next year I can start again...), but other than that, there really isn't much. Wichita Symphony music is usually challenging, and while I don't like the practice director, I do love joining with the symphony and the maestro. Our Presby church choir, on the other hand, is NOT challenging. The songs we sing are songs that our 5th grade choir would have been able to handle--of course those Hesston kids are always advanced in the music department! :)

I've digressed though...I was going to tell you about this morning. This morning I decided that I needed the extra hour of sleep and decided not to go to choir practice. We meet an hour before the church service, and depending on the number that show up, the director pulls something out of the closet, and that is what we sing. Needless to say, I've sung the same songs over and over in the 4 years I've gone to the church, and I'm quite bored.

Instead of singing this morning though, I was a part of the congregation. Again, I'll tell you that we are a small congregation, and every member of the church choir made eye contact with me--trying to remind me that I should be up there instead of sitting in the pews. In any other choir, I like to sing the low alto part. In this choir though, I'm required to flip flop from alto to high soprano, depending on who shows up and what part they are. This morning there were 8 male voices, and 3 women (2 altos and a soprano). I know I would have been required to sing the soprano part this morning.

Instead, I sat in my pew and listened as they started a song we've sung several times before. It started fairly well, but as it went on, the song got higher and higher, and further and further out of the reach of the one and only soprano. This lady is a recent addition to our church family, and she was certainly making a joyful noise this morning. She was joyful, and it was sure noisy. As I sat and listened to her screeching, all I could think about was my own highschool director. He and his family attend church at Whitestone. Growing up, whenever I was singing in the front of the church with a group I would look back to where he was sitting. Anytime any of us were singing, he would sit there with his head down, eyes closed and a little smirk on his face. I was never sure whether it was because he was trying to shut off his other senses and concentrate on the voices he was currently training, or whether he was laughing at us singing, and didn't want us to see him. This morning, I may have figured it out.

I too found myself with my head turned to the floor, my eyes closed, and trying to keep a straight face. It was not a smirk on my face that I was trying to cover, it was a look of agony. My eyes were squeezed shut, my mouth contorted...it was all I could do not to cover my ears with my hands. This woman thinks she has been given a gift, and is determined to make sure we all are able to enjoy. The problem though, is that she can't stay on pitch, and really can't hit the high notes a soprano needs. I doubt she could hit them in her prime, in which she is definitely not now!

Exiting the pew, I was stopped by numerous people, asking why I wasn't in the choir this morning. On the way out the door, the pastor stopped me as I was shaking his hand. He asked the usual questions (where have you been, what have you been up to), but then looked me in the eyes and said, "Erica, you know, we REALLY need you in the choir."

It was all I could do not to burst out laughing...instead I just said "I know", and walked out the door.



Thank you, Steve, for your part in my laughter today. Thank you also for the years of teaching, and your part in my musical training. As I teacher myself, I'm aware of the many thank yous that go unsaid, and I didn't want either of you (Marcia--I love you too!!!) to not know how highly I think of you both and value your influence on my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are special people!