Epilogue

Hello friends.

I wasn’t originally planning on writing another entry on this blog, but as I was on a walk the other day, it occurred to me that the documenting of my Tabernacle Choir journey wouldn’t be complete without sharing how things have been after leaving the Choir.

What makes this difficult is trying to isolate the effects that leaving the Choir have had on me versus the effects that my life in general have had on me. It’s like dropping two pebbles into a lake. The resulting ripples run into and overlap each other, making it almost impossible to distinguish which ripple originated with which pebble.  That said, I’ll do my best.

Let’s start with what I’ve missed.
(I’ve had seven months to think about this)

I originally thought that I’d miss the people the most—or perhaps the singing. But if I’m honest with myself, what I miss most is being a part of something big, something grand, something that impacts thousands (if not millions) week to week. It was much more validating than I thought. Growing up as a closeted gay kid and continuing into my adult years, I became a validation junkie. I needed it to survive. And while I’m well on the road to tapping into internal validation these days (as hard as it’s been to learn how to do that), I very much noticed the absence of validation that the Choir once gave me.

Closely linked to that was how the Choir had become an integral part of my identity. For eleven years, whenever people I knew saw me, they’d typically ask how my Choir experience was going. It was the first thing they’d ask about. I felt important. I felt their admiration. I felt like I was someone special—part of an elite club with a bunch of perks that no one else got.

So yeah, I miss all of that.

As mentioned, I do miss the singing. I’ve loved singing my entire life and there are very few experiences that rival singing a song I love, with people I love, to people all over the world, accompanied by one of the grandest organs in the world and an incredibly talented orchestra.

I certainly miss the people, too. I miss the conversations with my carpool group as we rode into the Tabernacle. I miss the basses that sat all around me and helped me sing to my fullest potential. And I miss the conversations during the breaks and the dedicated 1x1 time afforded to choir members as we went on tour.

Keeping with the honesty theme, I have to admit that I also miss thinking that the friendships I had with certain people would surely survive (and continue flourishing) even after Choir was over—that such friendships were not of convenience but were real, deep, and meaningful. But for several such friendships, that turned out not to be the case. In fact one in particular ended up causing me a lot of pain. But what do you do when someone doesn’t trust you anymore? What results is a trail of past experiences and meaningful memories that are suddenly tarnished and tainted. It stings. And it's hard to realize that what could have been "see you later" turned into an actual "goodbye". 

Any regrets, you may ask? Sure, I have some of those. I try not to dwell on them, but they remain. Things I wish would have happened differently? Yep. I have some of those too. The biggest one of those happened during my last three weeks in choir. President Leavitt had reached out to remind me that my temple recommend had expired and that I needed to renew it (a requirement for being in the Choir). He had no way of knowing that I was in the process of stepping away from the Church, that I was still grieving over the decision to divorce, and that I was trying so hard to just feel solid ground under my feet. To his credit, he did open the door to conversation saying that if I wanted to meet with him, that was an option. But what I really needed at that particular point in my life, was someone to say “Hey Ryan. I’d really like to meet with you and try and understand whatever challenges you may have that are preventing you from renewing your recommend. Would you please come visit with me so I can listen and we can work on a path forward?” I don’t know if that may have been too much to ask. President Leavitt is a good man with a huge responsibility of overseeing the entire choir organization. So I get it. But honestly, the response I described is what I needed and it didn’t come. So I just left, feeling a bit like I was misunderstood and that I was getting kicked out (even though I realize I only had myself to blame). It was a hard way to end an eleven-year experience of a lifetime.

I don’t miss the routine, or getting up early on Sunday mornings, or singing some of the songs we did, or wearing decades-old suits, or enduring recording sessions, or singing at General Conference. I also don’t miss the growing dissonance I felt at Choir as my faith was shifting and I increasingly felt more and more like an imposter. I had stopped attending church, I couldn’t support the prophet and apostles on various issues and teachings, and I had begun paying my tithing dollars to both charities I loved and to a dear friend in Mexico who had fallen on hard times and needed temporary assistance just to put food on his table. All of these things disqualified me from a temple recommend which only added to the dissonance.

At any rate, the passing of time always helps to miss things less. So I’m grateful for that. I tried attending a different choir for a time just last month, but ultimately realized it was too soon to do that (it just reminded me of Tab Choir and the difficult ending I went through). Instead, I’ve begun writing a memoir, continue to go out to lunch or dinner with friends about twice a week, make trips up to USU or down to Happy Valley to see my kids and my grand kids, hang out with my 17-yr old son (I get him every other week), have one-sided conversations with my cat, listen to interesting podcasts, have begun doing some meditation, am currently looking into volunteering with various LGBTQ+ organizations, attend a monthly bookclub (with other gay Gay/Bi guys I’m friends with) and maintain a good relationship with my ex-wife (whom I’m happy to report is getting remarried soon!). Leaving the church has been challenging in many respects, but I feel at peace with my decision and still work to maintain a close relationship with my Savior. While I haven’t yet dived into dating, I do hope to meet a guy one day who I can love and be loved by. Until then, the things listed above will hopefully stave off some of the loneliness that occupies part of my reality.

Wrapping this up (thanks for staying with me!), I just want to say thank you to my choir friends who have continued to offer a hand of friendship. It’s meant more to me than I can say. And despite how tumultuous my last couple of years in the Tabernacle Choir were, I’ll always be grateful for the experience in so many ways. I may not resonate with some of the songs the Choir sings or some of the organization’s membership policies, but their music brings a lot of peace to many. With peace being something that’s sometimes hard to find and difficult to hold onto, I feel fortunate to have been part of something that helps peace be easier to find and easier to embrace.

Love you all!

PS: A shout out to Music & the Spoken Word's very own Derrick Porter who actually was kind enough to text me today and see how I was doing. He's been nothing but kind and supportive since I met him and I continue to be grateful to count him as a friend!

TCATS #498 - The End

My friends.
The time has come to say goodbye. 😢

Today I officially ended my ten+ years in the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square. My journey out of the Choir is a complicated one and probably a story best suited for another time. But if you've been a faithful reader of this blog, you've probably been able to identify most of the elements that have contributed to my sooner-than-once-expected departure. In March of this year, it became clear to me that I would leave sometime during 2024. And shortly after that, I hatched a specific plan to leave near the end of September-- which would have allowed me to go on one last tour and to sing a few more times in the Tabernacle. But a couple of weeks ago, that plan was rather abruptly and emotionally altered and I knew I could no longer stay.

So, as quietly as possible, and after 1000+ rehearsals and 500+ performances, I left right after today's broadcast while everyone else stayed to rehearse tour music.  After saying hello to my pseudo-nephew Garrett who was in town (and is a huge Choir fan!), I made sure the suits I had worn were free of anything in their pockets; I turned in all of my music; and I left my security badge and car pass in my music locker. I then walked through the Tabernacle halls one last time, accompanied by my good friend Siope, taking a few mental snapshots with my mind and remembering back to those many times I had felt happy and excited to be there. After some good discussion with Siope and after Willy (who I drove in with) was done with his Spirit of God rehearsal, I drove out of the parking lot for the last time and headed home.

Amidst the sadness of today, I also felt a lot of deep gratitude in my heart. Specifically, gratitude for....

1. The People. There were several individuals who I became very close friends with during my time in the Choir. There were others who consistently said hello, gave me a smile, and asked how I was doing every time they saw me. And then there were those who I rarely got to interact with, but who fell into the "familiar face" category and who I respected for their contributions and dedication. But regardless of which "friendship bucket" people were in, I am profoundly grateful for each one of them and how they impacted my life--in so many different and vitally important ways.

2. The Music. It is true that many of the songs I've sung over the past ten years with the Choir no longer bring me the inspiration or spiritual feelings they once did. That said, there are still several that resonate with my soul (and always will). Some of these include: All People That on Earth Do Dwell, It Is Well With My Soul, The Wexford Carol, Psalm 148, Brother James' Air, Simple Gifts, My Song in the Night, His Voice as The Sound, Nella Fantasia, Alleluia (Caccini), We Thank Thee Lord for This New Day, One Person, Hold On, and Fill the World With Love. These songs and several others lifted me, encouraged me, and made me feel seen and loved. 

3. The Experiences. The experiences that stand out the most to me are three-fold. First, the Christmas concerts. These concerts were always filled with beautiful music, wonder, awe, excitement, and reverence. I will be forever grateful to have been a part of them.
Second, the tours. The tours (despite the stress and difficult emotions they caused) helped provide opportunities to get to know choir members better and to love and serve those around the world. They opened my eyes to the universal power of music on a grander scale.
Third, the many meaningful conversations, hugs of encouragement, and lightheartedness that occurred during the rehearsal/performance breaks are moments that will always be treasured. And now that I think about it, an added fourth to this list would be the unique connection I'd feel standing next to a good friend while singing a soul-resonating song we both loved. It's a feeling that I suspect is impossible to replicate in any other way.

In closing, I could make a rather long list of things I won't miss, haha, but I'd prefer ending my final blog entry on a more positive note. 

One of the most important lessons I've learned during the past ten years is the powerful impact just one person can make. Over and over and over again, it was easy for my brain to side with the seemingly logical argument that because I was only one amongst 400+ other singers, that I didn't really matter--that my voice (and everything that makes me, me) didn't matter. This argument was compounded by decades of shame and self-hatred and voices crying out in my head "Of course you don't matter."

But I do matter!
We all do!

This has been true through my entire journey behind the notes.  
And it will continue to be true in my current faith and life journey to "destination unknown."

ANY TIME we connect with another human being with the intention to uplift, to love, to understand, and to respect, something very meaningful takes place. Perhaps one of the most meaningful things of all.

Thank you so much for adding your witness to this journey I've been on with the Tabernacle Choir. And a special shout-out to my ex-wife, to my children, and to my closest friends. Your love and support have been amazing.

Whether in this life or the next, God be with you 'till we meet again. 🫶

 

PS: To my fellow choir members: my apologies if you felt slighted in me not telling you I was leaving. It just needed to be this way. Thanks for your understanding.

TCATS #497 - Of Derrick, Tickets, and the Olympics

Last Sunday, I was observing the Choir from the audience seats since I wasn't eligible to sing in the broadcast (I had missed Thursday's rehearsal). For some reason, I decided to sit on the 2nd row of the section--which is odd because I normally sit much farther back. As I sat there, I noticed plenty of staff members busy doing a variety of things to make sure everything was going to go smoothly. I also noticed Derrick Porter (the new voice of the Spoken Word) among them and didn't think much of it until he ended his conversations and came over and introduced himself to me and a friend I was sitting next to. For the next 5-7 minutes, he and I talked about various ways that kind of connected us (he saw my name tag and asked about other Pitt individuals I was related to and things launched from there). Apparently my dad was the one who helped convert someone who later became Derrick's mission president. And that mission president had a son who, it turns out, I ended up hiring at IBM back in the early 90s. It was also discovered that he had gone to school with my sister. Anyway, he was very friendly, very kind, and I was honestly in awe of how much time he took to talk with me. We even exchanged a few texts later that day and he said some things that were very helpful and insightful to me personally as I continue to figure out my life and which path I want to end up on. 

All to say, I'm thoroughly impressed with Derrick Porter and very much look forward to hearing all of the future Spoken Word messages he'll be sharing with the world. He doesn't just talk the talk. He walks the walk. He's a Christ-like person who I'm honored to call friend.

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In other, not so uplifting news, I've been really frustrated with the way the Church has handled the distribution of tickets to concerts being held in Florida and Georgia (our tour destination in September). There's been zero official communication to the Choir about the tickets and when I went onto the website to get some the first day they were available, the site was asking for a code. What code?! I finally was able to bypass that and request some tickets--only to get an email saying "Thanks for requesting tickets to an upcoming Tabernacle Choir event. More information regarding your request for tickets will be sent by the hosting arena."

Sigh.

After waiting a couple of weeks, we finally received this internal info: "IF tickets become available, we will provide a code...".

Thankfully, a Choir staff member put me in contact with another staff member who tried to explain why this hadn't been rolled out very well and asked me to send him an email with my ticket request. He said he'd see what he can do. At least it's something. Something I'll put my hope in.

I get that the Church has every right to withhold tickets so they can be given to non-members in the hopes that they will be inspired and want to know more about the Church. But I don't think it's unreasonable to ask that a block of tickets be reserved for friends/family of Choir members who happen to live in the areas we'll be visiting. There may be important reasons why such friends and family members are being invited. As is the case for me.

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In my last thought for today, I wanted to give a nod to the Choir's performance of "Call of the Champions" today. It was very inspiring. Composer John Williams can seriously do no wrong. He's brilliant--and this music of his was perfect today as we look forward to watching the Summer Olympics play out soon in France. It was nice, too, for the Choir to end the broadcast on this song. 

And that's it, folks. 

Until next time, God be with you.

TCATS #496 - Messages from the Moutains

Today's MSW theme was all about mountains--including not only some of the songs we sang, but the spoken message itself. I thought it would be fun to do a little critical analysis of all of the messages we received today about mountains. 

First off, let's tackle the three songs about mountains:

ANYONE CAN MOVE A MOUNTAIN 

Anyone can move a mountain if he really tries.
Anyone can move a mountain, [but] you must realize it will take a little time, [and] a lot of faith. [So] make up your mind and you'll arrive at where you strive to go.

So never be afraid to dream for that's what you must do.
If you never dream at all then your dreams can't come true.
Anyone can move a mountain, everyone should know. Just believe it and you'll find it's so.

Analysis: At a very high level, I appreciate what this song is telling us. It's attempting to bolster our confidence in the notion that we can move the mountains in our lives. We can conquer hardships and come out on top. But honestly, this isn't always the case. There are some mountains we cannot move. The song's lyrics are implying that mountains (trials) absolutely can be moved (overcome) if we have enough faith, if we just believe, and if we strive hard enough. I don't agree. And I know many people in my life whose mental health would suffer if they put their belief in this song's message. Should we try to overcome trials? Sure. And there are many we will overcome. But we need to remember that this song's formula doesn't ALWAYS work. (As an aside, there's a logical fallacy in saying that dreams can't come true if you never dream. Because if you don't dream at all, then there are no dreams to come true or not come true...)

CLIMB EVERY MOUNTAIN

Climb every mountain, search high and low.
Follow every byway, every path you know.

Climb every mountain, ford every stream.
Follow every rainbow,‘till you find your dream.

A dream that will need all the love you can give,
Every day of your life for as long as you live.

Analysis: For me, this is a song about figuring out life. It's about taking opportunities (and proactively making opportunities) to gain experiences and figure out what you really want. Such a course of action will include ups and downs, a lot of dedication and love, and a lot of hope and luck as well. So no doubt this song is inspiring (and I usually get a few chills when I sing it). However, on the flip side, using the word "every" repeatedly in this song can sometimes cause me to feel sad and frustrated and critical of myself. If I don't climb every mountain and every byway and every path and every rainbow each and every day, I'm not going to find what I'm looking for--I'm not going to be happy. It's a lot of pressure! Don't mess up! Don't let opportunities pass you by or else! (As an aside, the lyric "every path you know" doesn't quite seem to fit with the rest of the song since it's likely we'd be trying paths we don't know on our journey to find our end goal.)

ON GREAT LONE HILLS 

On great, lone hills, where tempests brood and gather
Primeval Earth, against primeval sky,
We, faring forth, possessed by fervent longing,
Have found a throne, eternal and high.
Have knelt at last in wordless adoration,
Till fire and whirlwind have both gone by.

With ardent song we greet the golden morning.
By faith upborne, remember not the night.
The whole wide world, triumphant hails the dawning.
God walks abroad in garments of might,
The hills, behold, are now a path of splendor,
Transfigured all, and all crowned with light.

Analysis: Ok, ok. So "hills" are not "mountains". I agree. But let's just go with it, shall we? It's difficult to analyze this song because I'm not entirely sure what it's talking about. But I'll do my best. The first set of lyrics seems to paint a very bleak picture about life. It's like we start our life's journey without God and encounter a lot of difficult realities and trials. But because of our intense longing to find a higher power, we end up accomplishing that and kneel in humility before the God who loves us.

The next set of lyrics paints a much happier picture now that we have God in our lives. We see the world around us for what it is--evidence of God's love. In fact, we see God everywhere. And the lone hills are now hills that if crossed, lead to light, truth, and goodness. 

Anyway, I'm on board with the lyrics, although I find myself wishing for two things. First, whereas I've had the time to study these lyrics and ponder on the meanings of various words used here, most listeners don't have that luxury. So using less-common words (brood, primeval, faring, ardent, upborne, etc) makes it difficult (for some, at least) to understand the overall message. Second, I take issue with "remember not the night." I may be way off base here with interpreting that line, but often "night" is associated with negative emotions like confusion, pain, and hardship. But let's not forget that pain leads to growth and further understanding. The "nights" in our lives are not something to forget.

Well, this is turning into a very long post. So I'll just end with a sentence or two from the spoken word I liked the most. 

"Maybe it’s not the elevation of the peak but the work it took to get there that brings us closer to God. It’s our willingness to climb the mountain—-not just the mountain-—that’s sacred to the Lord." (Derrick Porter, 6/30/24)

Until next time, God be with you.

TCATS #495 - Hello Derrick Porter

Derrick Porter.
He's the new guy in town. 

For at least a few loyal fans of Music & the Spoken Word, I'm sure the transition from Lloyd to Derrick has been met with a little hesitancy and trepidation. After all, 34 years is a long time. Lloyd's style, his voice, his smile, his insights, and his convictions have all given way to a certain brand of familiarity and trust. And that's hard for loyalists to let go of. 

But, as they say, all good things must come to an end.

Derrick started things out by greeting the audience members this morning. Shortly thereafter, the program started. His spoken word message was all about the transition, as well addressing topics of connection, joy, and focusing on Christ. Personally, I think he did a nice job and look forward to hearing more from him. I especially appreciated his message today about connection.

Having Derrick as the Spoken Word host wasn't the only thing that changed today. Elements of the program itself also changed. Instead of Derrick introducing the program like Lloyd Newell did during the first 30 seconds, there is now a woman's voice that does that. The same woman also closes out the program at the end. Some guys next to me today, after hearing the voice, said it sounded AI-generated. While I hope that's not the case, I can see why it might be. Since she only speaks less than probably 20 seconds total, using AI for timing and convenience purposes might have been why they chose to go with that option. I'll see if I can find out for sure.

For me personally, today's experience with the Tabernacle Choir was okay. I seemed to be plagued with fighting off some voices in my head telling me I shouldn't be there and nobody wanted me there. Also for some reason, I was in a very reclusive mood and didn't really say all that much to anyone. I did add one change of my own to the program though. It's the first time I wore glasses. The words on the teleprompter were becoming increasingly hard to see, so I thought it was about time. I've had glasses for years but just rarely wear them. Now though, with words becoming blurry, I had a definite need for increased clarity. And I very much enjoyed the change.

Looking to the future, I only have about 15-20 Sundays left in my choir service. It's a strange thought, but the time has come. The voices in my head are winning, my views about the Church are changing, and to be honest, I just really miss my friend Wes. 

Until next time, God be with you.

TCATS #494 - Personal Guests & Farewell to Lloyd

I had the privilege of having my mother and my great aunt join me for rehearsal this past Thursday. As choir members, we can invite people we know to come on Thursday nights and have them enjoy a "Tabernacle Choir experience". They sit in the loft next to all of us, they are given music to read from, and then near the end of rehearsal they are introduced to the Choir by Mack himself. Mack bases these introductions off of a short biography each guest is asked to write up and submit beforehand.

At any rate, it was fun to see both of them have such a good experience. And it was fun riding home with them afterwards to hear their perspective on what they thought about it all. Their comments centered on how much they enjoyed the music, the people sitting next to them (who were all very kind and accommodating), and getting to testify of Christ as they sang the music. They were also struck on how "get down to business" Mack was and how carefully they had to listen to make sure they were understanding all of the instructions being given. 

Around 9:05 or so and after the introductions, the guests were excused from the loft while the rest of the choir continued rehearsing. I left with the guest group and once we were down near the front of the audience seats, one of the Choir photographers took a picture of my mom and aunt Winnie and then a picture of all of us (including my brother Jordan who had come). We talked a bit with the Pres. and Sis. Porter (who my mom knew from years ago) and then we left! 

Personally, along with seeing my mom and aunt so happy, it was nice to have something "new" as part of my Thursday Choir experience. It also made me a little more grateful for having the opportunity to sing with the Choir in the first place.

Switching gears, today was Lloyd Newell's last broadcast. For the past 34 years, he's been the voice of Music & the Spoken Word and as you can imagine, he and his wife were a bit emotional today as they said goodbye to this very significant part of their lives. Lloyd had hand-picked the song selections today and the spoken word appropriately focused on CHANGE. 

Several choir members around me got a little emotional as we sang "God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again" to Bro. & Sis. Newell as a final farewell. While I was thankful for his service and consider him a brilliant writer and speaker (he composed over 1700 spoken word messages or mini-sermons during his tenure), I didn't find myself getting too emotional. I acknowledge I have been touched on numerous occasions from his spoken word messages, but I also look forward to seeing how Derrick Porter (his replacement) will fill his shoes. Maybe he'll walk in the same style as Lloyd. Or maybe, just maybe, he'll do things a little differently. 

Oh, and before I end this entry, it was announced on Thursday that the Choir's next tour destination (next Feb) is Lima, Peru. I won't be around for that one, but I'm glad the Choir gets to go to such a beautiful destination and mingle with/sing to the people there. 

Until next time, God be with you.

L to R: brother Jordan, my mom Linda, Aunt Winnie, and me!

TCATS #493 - Of Holst and Parades

There are two thoughts I wanted to share today regarding my experience this week in the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square.

First, out of all of the songs we sang, my favorite was titled "O God Beyond All Praising", by Gustav Holst. The song is based on the THAXTED tune, which Gustav came up with himself (and which tune has been used for several other songs over the years). Thaxted is actually the name of an English village where Holst grew up. At any rate, it's a very pretty song and one that found a way into my soul this morning. The lyrics that Michael Perry came up with for the song are certainly praiseworthy, but for some reason just the tune itself is what impacted me the most. It seemed to strengthen my tether to the Divine.

Second, one of our Choir presidency members stood before us this morning and informed us that music turn-in was canceled (which is rare if one has been scheduled) and that we were encouraged not to go over to the Tabernacle because of the Pride parade that was happening fairly close by. We were also told that if we really did need to go over there, that we weren't to take any pictures. 

Without any further background or context or explanation given, I was left to try and figure out the reasons behind this request. From a risk management perspective, perhaps the Choir presidency was trying to avoid the unlikely possibility of one of the parade-watchers being unkind to a choir member (or vice versa)? That somehow choir members wouldn't be welcome to view the festivities? That, because of our large numbers, we'd get in the way of others wanting to participate? Or was it to avoid a potential PR issue in the which choir members were photographed or videoed by the media as they watched the parade--thereby implicitly showing their support of the LGBTQ+ community? I don't know. I wish some additional details had been provided because it felt a little like we were being asked not to support the parade and thus the community it represents. 

Funny thing is, since the west gate of Temple Square was closed (which was nearest the parade), if we had returned our music, we would have had to go through the north gate which would have kept us quite a bit away from the parade. And speaking of the parade, it was actually taking place on 1st south--a block away from Temple Square (blocks in SLC are quite large). Anyway, it was just one of those times I was confused and in the absence of an explanation, was left to feel a bit offended. 

If I'm wrong in my interpretation of what was said, I'll be the first to apologize. Just trying to make sense of it all.

After the parking garage at the Conference Center was mostly cleared out and Choir members had gone home, I walked over to the parade to show support generally, but also to support someone I knew who was participating in it. Along with the excitement and energy, my friend in the parade summed it up best with a text he sent me: "Today I experienced a community of love and support well beyond anything I've ever experienced [elsewhere]. Most of all, there [was] no judgment here."

Until next time, God be with you.