Singing In The Slough Of Despond...And Coming Up For Air

Two summers ago, I stumbled upon a website for one of the many community choirs in my city, got a hankerin' to sing again and called for an audition. I hate auditions. Always have. It's all so personal subjective. And of course, any choir that's worth its weight is going to ask you to sight read some music -- they don't need any slackers weighing them down.

Did I mention that I am the world's worst sight reader?

So...two summers ago I swallowed my fear of rejection pride and set up a couple of auditions. The first was for a big group with a limited number of openings. When I sight read for this director, I sensed he felt compelled to lunge for the phone and dial 911, seeing that I was having hallucinations and all. He said he would call after the open auditions at the end of that month, which I decided meant, "If I can't find any better talent before the season starts, I guess I'll have to call you."

But before he could officially reject me, I found another ensemble. It was smaller and quicker about welcoming newbies into the ranks. (Which meant I was not going to have to be rejected by the other choir, but could do the rejecting instead.) I was so relieved when this director only asked me to sing back a strange pattern of notes, which I did well enough after a compelling rendition of God Save The Queen My Country 'Tis Of Thee.

"Well, I think you would be a welcome addition to our group," said Mr. Director. He said I had "chops," and assigned me to the altos.

*scoff* Being the kind of person who wouldn't belong to a choir that would have me, the respect level dropped by about 1/3 right off the bat.

But then, I met the music. And the texts. And I was in love.

See, 19 years earlier, I had been a rebel teen who thought that the only worthy expression of my musical talent and appreciation was fame and fortune, and being wholly convinced that the best way to do that was to network with those who could make it happen -- I got into radio.

And so I didn't go to college.

I didn't even explore the possibility. I didn't want to. I didn't care.

And I didn't know what I was missing.

All that to say that my first few rehearsals with this choir opened my eyes and ears to thoughts and theory and theology of sound that I had no idea existed. Yes -- theology of sound! Maybe I'm the last music lover on the planet to know that the Baroque-era composers were using tempo, dissonance and the note placement on the staff to convey everything from the sign of the cross to the confusion of hell and judgment. They were not writing toward the "hook" that would help their little ditty climb the R&R charts.

And the texts...glory to God! Read the text from a couple of the 7 versus we sang this weekend:

Christ lag in Todesbanden,
composed by Bach, text by Martin Luther (pictured above, left)

Christ lag en todesbanden Christ lay in death's bonds
Für unsre Sünd gegeben, handed over for our sins.
Er ist wieder erstanden He is risen again
Und hat uns bracht das Leben; and has brought us life
Des wir sollen fröhlich sein, For this we should be joyful,
Gott loben und ihm dankbar sein praise God and be thankful to him
Und singen halleluja, and sing allelluia,
Halleluja! Alleluia!

Es war ein wunderlicher Krieg, It was a strange battle
Da Tod und Leben rungen, where death and life struggled.
Das Leben behielt den Sieg, Life won the victory,
Es hat den Tod verschlungen. It has swallowed up death
Die Schrift hat verkündigt das, Scripture has proclaimed
Wie ein Tod den andern fraß, how one death ate the other,
Ein Spott aus dem Tod ist worden. death has become a mockery.
Halleluja! Alleluia!

English Translation by Francis Browne (January 2005)

And I've learned so much more than that in my two years with this group. Like...

Did you know that there are two ways to produce vocal vibrato? Naturally and correctly, from the diaphragm, or manufactured and wrong, bad, wrong from the tongue, throat and jaw. After all these years, I discovered that I don't have the right one. *sniffle* And it was hard to part with. I liked my little, frilly vibrato -- but to continue to use my voice that way would probably ruin it by causing a premature loss of elasticity of my vocal chords. That's why older women have such a wide and warbley quality to their voice.

So my friend -- and now, vocal coach -- Katherine is helping me to find my true vibrato. I was sure that it would be a futile exercise; I thought Fifi may as well try to teach me to wiggle my ears. But the good news is that it has peaked out here and there -- ever so small and slight right now -- but Katherine assures me that it will come.

So, one can see that two years in this choir has been a very good thing. A very good thing indeed. I have been blessed beyond measure. Good music, good technique, a good friend. And last but not least, a ready-made mission field of unrepentant sinners singing the Gospel!

But the honeymoon is over. People are becoming rather comfortable. True colors are showing through. Man's depravity is evident. And equally so is the roaring lion.

The fields may be ripe for harvest, but the crop is growing out of a slough that smells like an open sewer line, and I am praying about what -- if anything -- to do about it. Should I quit? Should I persevere? This "light and salt, reflecting Christ" business can be some dirty work. I'm learning that you can't brush shoulders with the world without getting a little of its filth on your shirt sleeve. But I'm trusting that it brushes off easy enough.

But mostly, I'm reminded that I can do nothing in my own strength. By myself, I can't perceive for whom to pray. By myself, I can't muster the right motivation. By myself, I can't rise above the temptation to tiptoe into the sludge that is the profane conversation going on around me. And by myself, I can't withstand the insults and wicked word pictures that are hurled at me by them whose mouths are as open tombs, even if they think they mean no harm.

But two things I have not forgotten: I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me, and God is faithful and He will teach me which way to go. I will delight in Him and He will implant in me the desires He wants me to have.

Even if it means I must give up my music.

Even if it means I must stay right where I am.