Sing along with me

I received a great compliment today. I helped with music for the first time at the Saturday night service at Holy Cross last weekend. I played keyboard for all the songs, and sang lead on 2 1/2 of them. I've led many the service over the years, but I surprised a lot of people since I'd never done so on Saturday at Holy Cross before. I've received many compliments from people saying I have a great voice, but the compliment I received today was different and more appreciated. The compliment I received today, after she said she enjoyed my music on Saturday, was "it was easy for me to follow along and sing with you."

I can only remember completely losing my singing voice once in my life. It was March 17, 2013. I remember the exact day because it was the day after moving, and I was supposed to sing tenor in the Schola Cantorum for their Lenten Vespers service. Instead, I was sick, and while I could speak with great effort, I couldn't sing a note no matter how hard I tried. I still attended the service, but instead of singing with the choir, I sat in the congregation unable to even sing along with any of the liturgy or hymns. Lenten and Holy Week hymns are my favorite hymns, Kramer Chapel is a fantastic place to sing in, and I knew and loved all of the choral and congregational music, but I couldn't sing. I sat there with my hymnal open, and read the text as everyone sang for me--not sang around me--sang for me.

There weren't 1,000 people there, but like the hymns "Oh, That I had a Thousand Voices" or "Oh, for a Thousand Tongues to Sing" wish, the rest of congregation were my "Thousand Voices/Tongues" that day singing for me the words I desperately wished to proclaim and silently joined in confessing. Nonetheless, as a musician, not being able to sing was a bit like being temporarily crippled. I really wanted to sing along. That service was still a blessing I am thankful for, but I am also thankful for the blessing that I have only been completely unable to sing that one time.

If I were the best singer in the world, but sang in a way that was hard to sing along with, it might discourage you to sing and would be like stealing your voice. I am never shy in singing in church, but this is not to steal your voice and replace it with my own, rather to give my voice as support to those who, for whatever reason, have trouble singing or can't sing. I am aware that I have been gifted with more musical talent than some, but I would much rather sing with you than sing in a way that makes you stifle your own voice. That is why I found being told I was easy to sing along with such a high compliment.

As stanza 7 of Lutheran Service Book 528, "Oh, for a Thousand Tongues to Sing" says:

To God all glory, praise, and love
     Be now and ever giv'n
By saints below and saints above,
     The Church in earth and heav'n.

May we always join our individual voices into the corporate voice of the Church to sing the prayers and songs of the Church of all times and of all places.

Make your mom proud and do a good job.

I tend to listen to talk radio in the car. I know, I know...I'm a musician so you'd expect me to listen to music. Well, I need to get away from music now and then, so I listen to talk radio in the car. Something I was listening to today served as a memory trigger for a random exchange I had a few years ago. It wasn't at all a bad conversation, but I wish the circumstance prompting it never existed. Let me explain.

It occurred during the year I was volunteering as music teacher at Imagine Schools on Broadway, so I was extremely busy and ended up grabbing quick meals out on my busiest days. There were a few days a week where I would eat a late supper at the McDonald's on Stellhorn. This was also the period I was going without internet at home, so I also sometimes went at the end of the day simply to use internet since all other convenient options for public Wi-Fi were already closed. The employees got used to seeing me on a regular basis, and I got a good idea about their work habits.

During this period, most of the employees at this McDonald's were not exactly hardworking. There were times I would be there after 10pm, be the only one in the store, and have to wait a significant amount of time for the person who was supposed to be working cashier to come take my order, and then wait much longer than it should have taken for my food to be ready. It was quite ridiculous, but I practiced my patience, didn't complain, and always simply thanked them when I received my order. However, I quietly noticed at least two employees who actually did their job.

One day, I was using a coupon at Arby's to get a quick meal when a teenage girl who was one of the hardworking McDonald's employees walks in with her family.

"Cheating on McDonald's?" she joked as she recognized me.

I don't remember all of the specifics of the short conversation, but we explained to her mom that I was a regular customer during her shifts at McDonald's. I knew she was annoyed at her coworkers from watching them work, so I took this opportunity to tell the girl that I noticed and appreciated how she went about her work, that she stood out from her coworkers as a result, and thanked her for her efforts.

I remember the proud mom moment that occurred after I did this. I'm pretty sure the mom wasn't expecting someone who was essentially a stranger to compliment her daughter on her work at McDonald's while out getting a meal at Arby's. It was an interesting spontaneous experience to be a part of.

If all of the employees had been doing their jobs like I wish they would have, I'm not sure the above exchange would have happened. I don't know if I would still have made a point to thank her then and there and make sure she knew her work was appreciated. That could be a whole different discussion on thankfulness. Regardless, I do know that I still remember this random interaction a few years later. I remember the girl who did a good job even when alone in doing so, and the mom proud of her daughter as a result.

"The fruit of the Spirit is...gentleness..."

 There seems to be a misconception in parts of society that gentleness is a bad thing, or gentleness equates to weakness. I hope I'm wrong about this conflation, because we need to remember that hidden behind gentleness is strength--strength that is laid aside or unused.

We often forget when enjoying a gentle breeze the power of the wind unleashed in a tornado. We often forget when enjoying the gentle lap of waves at the beach the power of tsunamis and flooding. We implicitly understand that these instances of gentleness are beneficial. We understand that untempered strength can be horrifying and destructive. We need to recognize the strength behind gentleness, and retain our appreciation for gentleness.

You've probably already noticed that I enjoy children's books. Not children's books in the modern, board book/picture sense, but children's book in the tradition of Narnia, The Hobbit, Fairy Tales, etc... The sense of gentleness as strength laid aside is not hard to find in these books. Some quick examples:

After he held her to his heart for a minute, he spoke to his white horse, and the great beautiful creature, which had been prancing so proudly a little while before, walked as gently as a lady--for he knew he had a little lady on his back--through the gate and up to the door of the house.

                              --From The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald

 The Lion shook his mane and clapped his paws together ("Terrible paws," thought Lucy, "if he didn't know how to velvet them!")

                              --From The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis

Without gentleness in these instances, we would have a little girl thrown off a horse too powerful for her to handle riding, and the fierce claws of a lion. We would have fear, injury, and death.

But where I'm most grateful for gentleness is in how God shows his strength to bring justice to the nations. We read in Isaiah 42:1-4:

Behold my servant, whom I uphold,
    my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my Spirit upon him;
    he will bring forth justice to the nations.
 He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice,
    or make it heard in the street;
 a bruised reed he will not break,
    and a faintly burning wick he will not quench;
    he will faithfully bring forth justice.
 He will not grow faint or be discouraged
    till he has established justice in the earth;
    and the coastlands wait for his law.

 This is the gentle, suffering servant of God, Jesus Christ, who establishes justice not by trampling his enemies under foot or extinguishing them as strength could have easily allowed, but by bearing their sin and facing the full wrath of God in their stead. In this gentleness is the strength that overcomes sin, death, and the power of the devil. He was mocked for this gentleness so I probably shouldn't be surprised some do not appreciate gentleness now. I pray that those who don't appreciate gentleness now will ultimately gain this appreciation and be spared from facing untempered strength they cannot withstand.

The Plucked Bloom

The wind breathes fair,
and the lone flower, shy,
turns her face to share
beauty’s art with passersby.

But passerby, brash,
his lone need makes presume
to fair shyness thrash
and savagely pluck the bloom.

The wind gusts rue
as whisper lone leaves
dripping raindrops’ blue dew
to lost blossoming grieve.

Then passerby, Time,
drying bitterness’ tears,
beams upon summer’s prime,
rays of hope melting fears.

The wind breathes new
and fresh blossoms rustling sing
forth new growth from pruning's hew;
beauty healing the pain of spring.

[May 6, 2014]

Irene, Lucy, and an Homage

C. S. Lewis did not hide that he drew inspiration from George MacDonald. I'm a huge Narnia fan, so as I was reading The Princess and the Goblin, it didn't surprise me much when reading about Irene that I was made to think of Lucy and Narnia. I always find it interesting how well done homages are not mere formulaic copies--they can be expansions and can even reverse details or outcomes--but have a unity between the source and homage. In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, two of my favorite scenes pay homage to a fleeting scene in The Princess and the Goblin. Have a look! 

From Chapter 22 of The Princess and the Goblin by MacDonald:

And from somewhere came the voice of the lady, singing a strange sweet song, of which she could distinguish every word; but of the sense she had only a feeling--no understanding. Nor could she remember a single line after it was gone. It vanished, like the poetry in a dream, as fast as it came. In after years, however, she would sometimes fancy that snatches of melody suddenly rising in her brain must be little phrases and fragments of the air of that song; and the very fancy would make her happier, and abler to do her duty.

 From Chapter 10 of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by Lewis:

On the next page she came to a spell "for the refreshment of the spirit." The pictures were fewer here but very beautiful. And what Lucy found herself reading was more like a story than a spell. It went on for three pages and before she had read to the bottom of the page she had forgotten that she was reading at all. She was living in the story as if it were real, and all the pictures were real too. When she had got to the third page and come to the end, she said, "That is the loveliest story I've ever read or ever shall read in my whole life. Oh, I wish I could have gone on reading it for ten years. At least I'll read it over again."

But here part of the magic of the Book came into play. You couldn't turn back. The right-hand pages, the ones ahead, could be turned; the left-hand pages could not.

"Oh, what a shame!" said Lucy. "I did so want to read it again. Well, at least I must remember it. Let's see . . . it was about . . . about . . . oh dear, it's all fading away again. And even this last page is going blank. This is a very queer book. How can I have forgotten? It was about a cup and a sword and a tree and a green hill, I know that much. But I can't remember and what shall I do?"

And she never could remember; and ever since that day what Lucy means by a good story is a story which reminds her of the forgotten story in the Magician's Book.

And from Chapter 16 of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by Lewis:

And suddenly there came a breeze from the east, tossing the top of the wave into foamy shapes and ruffling the smooth water all round them. It lasted only a second or so but what it brought them in that second none of those three children will ever forget. It brought both a smell and a sound, a musical sound. Edmund and Eustace would never talk about it afterward. Lucy would only say, "It would break your heart." "Why," said I, "was it so sad?" "Sad!! No," said Lucy.

I may not have noticed the connection between these passages if the above Narnia quotes weren't some of my favorite passages in the series. In all three instances, there is a message or moment that is valued but not quite comprehended. It has come and gone, yet, while remembered however vaguely, is a formative moment. Irene's moment is ever valued as encouragement, and when Lewis pays homage the appreciation has deepened to a longing. Longing for those fleeting moments of eternity in the now. Longing for peace, calm, wholeness, completeness. Longing for heaven. In MacDonald, the rest of heaven encourages and enables completion of labor required on earth. In Lewis, the weariness of earth creates a longing for the rest of heaven. Lewis understood this moment of not-quite-comprehended eternity in MacDonald, and the echoes are heard in Narnia.

If Lucy and Irene were to meet, they would surely be friends and would understand each other, even when what is understood is, paradoxically, inexpressible and beyond comprehension.

Princesses in Pretty Pink Books

I finally got around to reading  The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald. The edition I read, Looking Glass Library, has a beautiful pink cover. It's pretty obvious whose eye they are trying to attract with the cover design. I'm such a rebel, I not only read the book, but read it openly in public! Maybe people stared, but I was too busy reading to notice. This will most likely be the first of multiple posts prompted by the story, but I'm going to start with a discussion of princesses. (Sorry, goblins).

Every time a new princess movie comes out, the internet is inundated with more discussion about how the stereotypical princess is ruining girls' self-reliance and view of the world, and either blasts or praises the movie for reinforcing or shattering the princess mold. Sometimes I wonder how this "stereotypical princess" mold even came about based on a number of stories I've read, but I'll give my thoughts on this later. Now, let's look at how The Princess and the Goblin deals with what princesses should be like as a specific case study.

Here are some quotes from the story on the topic of princess characteristics:

She did not cry long, however, for she was as brave as could be expected of a princess her age [8 years old]. After a good cry she got up and brushed the dust from her frock. Oh, what old dust it was! Then she wiped her eyes with her hands, for princesses don't always have their handkerchiefs in their pockets, any more than some other little girls I know of. Next, like a true princess, she resolved on going wisely to work to find her way back.

~~~~~~~

Not to be believed does not at all agree with princesses; for a real princess cannot tell a lie.

~~~~~~~

"Nurse, a princess must not break her word," said [princess] Irene.

~~~~~~~

She never forgot Curdie, but him she remembered for his own sake, and indeed would have remembered him if only because a princess never forgets her debts until they are paid.

~~~~~~~

Some little girls would have been afraid to find themselves thus alone in the middle of the night, but Irene was a princess.

~~~~~~~

Lootie had very foolish notions concerning the dignity of a princess, not understanding that the truest princess is just the one who loves all her brothers and sisters best, and who is most able to do them good by being humble toward them.

~~~~~~~

Here I should like to remark, for the sake of princes and princesses in general, that it is a low and contemptible thing to refuse to confess a fault, or even an error. If a true princess has done wrong she is always uneasy until she has had an opportunity of throwing the wrongness away from her by saying, "I did it, and I wish I had not; and I am sorry for having done it."

Let's summarize the character traits a true princess shows according to these quotes:

• Bravery
• Resolve
• Resourcefulness
• Honesty
• Trustworthiness
• Responsibility
• Morality
• Independence
• Selflessness
• Humilty
• Compassion
• Honor

Isn't that a horrifying list? We definitely can't have girls acting like princesses and showing those traits! If we look past the quotes about princesses at princess Irene's actions, including holding her resolve in the face of mockery and rescuing Curdie, the male hero in the story, we can also add these traits.

• Leadership
• Initiative
• Faith
• Confidence
• Lovingness
• Kindness

It just keeps getting worse doesn't it! She's out of control!

How can we go from heroic princesses to a stereotype of helpless, destructive princesses? I think the answer lies in the concept of duty. In The Princess and the Goblin, Irene understands that being royal comes with demands. This sense of duty instills deep senses of responsibility and morality, which require her to be able to act independently, resolutely, and strongly when doing good is the hard or unpopular choice. If we lose this sense of duty, this sense of responsibility, this sense of morality, we are left with superficiality. Princesses are left with nothing they are obligated to do, so society makes them pretty objects to envy and desire. And without duty, society has replaced selflessness and responsibility with selfishness and self-absorption. When the right to be a privileged princess is demanded while avoiding being demanded of, it's no wonder morality disappears along with duty.

I mentioned before that it is obvious the book cover designer was not trying to appeal to males in its design choice. I find this to be too bad. Sure the title has "the princess" in it, but what we have is a fairy tale with two heroes: the princess Irene, and the miner Curdie. There is absolutely no reason the heroism of both of these characters can't be appreciated by both boys and girls. But I'm a man who likes princess books, so what do I know?

Reading Again: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (Chapters 1-3), An ordinary Rabbit with an extraordinary waistcoat and watch.

[Alice] was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself "Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!" (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet [. . .]

Oh, Alice. Alice the naive and, at least so far, cat-obsessed. Alice the hesitant to exert the simple effort to pick flowers, but Alice the quick to chase after Rabbits at the simple look of a watch.

Right off, Alice forces one to confront the age old question: If a talking Rabbit with a waistcoat and pocket-watch ran by, how long would it take before I noticed something out of the ordinary was happening? Another way of asking this question might be the following: How perceptive am I?

Thinking about this question makes me confront how I often exert minimal effort in perceiving my environment. Often, I focus my perception only to what I consider useful at that given time and largely ignore everything else. I filter out background noise or I ignore details of buildings/signs with no direct bearing on my safe driving. I suppose this is a necessary and useful skill since I can only process so much stimuli at one time, but I sometimes wonder if it makes me miss out on Wonderland in the moment.

If I really payed attention, how many more wonder-filled moments would I find everyday? Responsibility and real life require me to filter, but Alice helps remind me to remember to perceive both the ordinary and the extraordinary. Sometimes, like Alice, it will take thinking back and reflection to fully grasp some of what happens, but my Adventures in Fort Waynederland are happening whether I perceive them or not. I should probably pay attention before it's "too late."