The choir was all abuzz about the weather, this morning. My carpool buddy Ben, and I, don't ever remember such a winter storm happening on a Sunday morning as long as we've been in the choir (4+ years). But happen it did. As we crawled along the freeway at 30-40 MPH, swerving this way and that, we felt deep relief as we finally pulled into the Conference Center parking lot. We only had 5 minutes or so to go get changed and up into the loft for rehearsal. But we thought that if there was any day that the choir leadership was going to waive the penalty for latecomers, it was going to be today.
With the weather the way it was, the Tabernacle wasn't too full, although there were more there than I thought there was going to be. The program went well and I think my most-loved song of the day was "The Morning Breaks." The comfort of knowing that Someone is guiding and leading us today--in a world where secular leadership does very little to help solve the ills of society--is a reality that I'm grateful for. And I'll be grateful for when I can finally go home. " Jehovah speaks! Let earth give ear, and Gentile nations turn and live.
His mighty arm is making bare, his covenant people to receive."
After the broadcast, we continued rehearsing selections from The Messiah. Tickets for this upcoming concert "sold out" in about 15 minutes, though I hear there are still seats available at one of the watch-on-the-big-screen locations.
Other than that, the speeding train continues moving forward for the Choir. There isn't too much to see out the train window for right now, but that always changes...often.
Until next time, God be with you.
As the years just continue to speed by, I find myself singing--almost defiantly yelling along--to an upbeat song by the 80s band called The Origin, in which they proclaim over and over and over again, "I'm not growing old!" Alas, though, I realize that no matter how much I sing, or yell, or wish that phrase to be true, it is not. I AM growing old. At least, old-er. And this year I'm really feeling it.
On the broadcast today, we sang the well-known song from Fiddler on the Roof, sung by the main character Tevye, called Sunrise, Sunset. To me, the music itself is very melancholy, and invokes a sentimental sadness that makes the lyrics all the more poignant. Lyrics that I can relate to, more than I would like:
Is this the little girl i carried?
Is this the little boy at play?
I don't remember growing older,
When did they?
When did she get to be a beauty?
When did he grow to be so tall?
Wasn't it yesterday when they were small?
Sunrise sunset, sunrise, sunset,
Swiftly flow the days,
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers,
Blossoming even as they gaze...
Sunrise sunset, sunrise, sunset!
Swiftly fly the years,
One season following another,
Laden with happiness and tears...
UG!
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| Rebekah & Josh then |
To know why these lyrics tugged at my heartstrings today, is to understand my two oldest children. My oldest, Rebekah, just left home last September, for college, and she is now off serving a mission in London. My second oldest, Joshua, is currently in his senior year of high school and will be headed off to college in the Fall. So as I sang the first verse of this song today, I had all of these memories surface of
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| Rebekah & Josh now |
when my two oldest were still little. And as the song continued, every single lyric ringed true. When did they grow older? Wasn't it just yesterday they were small? Why have the days gone by so quickly? And how is it they can suddenly transform into adults even as I continue to gaze upon them (i.e. transform right in front of my eyes)!
Even the reference to sunflowers is completely appropriate. Why did the author of the song choose sunflowers out of all the other kinds of flowers? Well, I don't for sure. But two unique attributes of sunflowers relate very well to kids. First, the flower grows very quickly. In fact, it can reach up to 12 feet in the matter of only six months. Second, the face of the flower follows the sun throughout the day. And for me, that relates to how kids quickly absorb light and knowledge ALL THE TIME. And before you know it, they take what you taught them and then they're off!
At any rate, while I did manage to keep my emotions in check, those emotions were there, nonetheless. Don't get me wrong, I'm completely and utterly proud of my kids (the two oldest and the three after them), but sometimes I just struggle with change and long to go back to the years when they wanted to held, cuddled, and reassured that everything would be OK. How about it? Could I do that for just a few minutes? My wife and I would take even 30 seconds.
I think I can now finally relate to Tevye.
Until next time, God be with you.
Today we sung several patriotic songs in honor of President's Day. My favorite was God of Our Fathers, which caused me to feel an assurance that God is still at the helm of this great country--though I know there are plenty who would scoff at that statement. "How could He be at the helm as things continue to deteriorate from a moral and religious standpoint?" some might say. To that I would respond: There are plenty of examples throughout history of righteous leaders with few followers. God's hand is always extended and following Christ is always a path that's available. It's just that many people choose not to reach for that hand or follow Christ's path.
The two sentences of lyrics that I appreciated today were the following:
Thy true religion in our hearts increase.
Thy bounteous goodness nourish us in peace.
While I tend to focus on the problems this country has, of it's lack of wholesome and effective leadership, and of people choosing to be divided rather than united, I need to remember that our basic freedoms are still in tact, and that there are still people who have good hearts and want to do the right thing. My hope is that God and Christ's true religion will, indeed, increase within our hearts so that we can receive the blessings of peace as we navigate this troubled nation.
So next time I get really frustrated with Congress or our President's decisions or the crime rate or the next school shooting or the rise of pornography and drug addiction or people showing less respect or a hundred other things, I need to trust in God, engage in actions that will help curb society's ills, and simply be kind and involved in others' lives. If we don't watch over each other, who will?
Until next time, God be with you.
While the official Spoken Word today centered on the theme of LOVE, there's one song we sang ("Call of the Champions") that paid honor to the Winter Olympics that just began this weekend. And it's about the Olympics I wanted to say a few words.
The Olympics, of course, is a time to celebrate both physical and mental achievement. It's a time when athletes from all around the world can come together, compete, and become a gold, silver, or bronze champion. I find it fascinating that these athletes train for years and years to perfect their skills and talents, and then have one chance--one moment--to prove that the thousands of hours of hard work and discipline have made them worthy to wear a winning medal. As we watch them compete, we cheer when they flawlessly spin on the ice or speed down the slopes without crashing. We also cringe and feel terrible when we do see them crash or endure imperfect landings. We marvel when the difference between a gold and silver medal may be just a tenth of a second, or one-hundreth of a point. So close, so close!
What we may fail to think about, though (at least I do), is that just being in the Olympics is an incredible accomplishment. Heck, even finishing last is nothing to be sad about. Placing 20th in some event, one could still say, "Hey, I'm the 20th best snowboarder in the entire world!" Yet, such individuals don't get much attention from the media. In some degree, we are a "winner-mentality" society and our focus is typically on the three top slots when it comes to the Olympics.
As I was thinking about all of this, I thought about how we are all, each one of us, in the Olympics of life. EACH DAY is our opportunity to perform, do our best, and choose to be happy with the results. Sure, we'll have times we fall, crash, or under-perform. We may even have days where we feel like we didn't deserve any sort of medal. But that's OK because at least we're a part of this thing called life and are trying. And as we try, we strive to attach hope and optimism to our efforts, and, in the words of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, "pursue personal improvement in a way that doesn’t include...feeling depressed or demolishing our self-esteem."
I don't know what the non-medal achieving Olympic athletes think of themselves as they finish the games and head back home. But they are certainly champions in my book. They are, and all of the rest of us are, in our efforts to move forward and make it our best performance every day.
Until next time, God be with you.
Occasionally the choir leadership brings up the fact that the men of the choir don't look very "engaged" when they sing. They don't sparkle. At least, most of us, anyway. But this time, the topic was brought up both on Thursday at rehearsal, and then again on Sunday before the broadcast. Thus the men were instructed to spend some time and really watch themselves--and then to make whatever tweaks were necessary to look like they actually enjoyed singing in the choir (the common suggestion was to "lift the eyebrows a bit").
So...did the admonishment work?
I'll let you be the judge.
Here are a few screenshots from today's broadcast.
Did we SPARKLE? (click to enlarge)
Aside from the specific "sparkle" assignment the men had, the songs we sang today were all ones I really liked.
Standing on the Promises: One of my favorites! Helps me feel full of faith, knowing God will deliver.
The Lord is My Shepherd: Quiet, contemplative, reassuring.
Lift Up Your Heads: A selection from Handel's Messiah, a majestic and regal reminder that Christ is our King of glory.
Be Still My Soul: This gentle hymn reminds me that amidst all of the trials and hardships, I need to take time to just...be still.
O What a Beautiful Mornin': This one helps me feel optimistic.
O Praise Ye the Lord: I wasn't as familiar with this one, but as I was singing it, it made me want to be a little more grateful during those times I tend not to be.
Lastly, after the broadcast, we had our first of nine extra rehearsals for our upcoming concert of Handel's Messiah. If you are a fan of this musical masterpiece, plan on joining us on March 22 or 23. It will also be live-streamed!
Until next time, God be with you.
One would think that there's no song the Mormon Tabernacle Choir knows better than the iconic Climb Every Mountain. It is, after all, one of our signature pieces and one that we sing quite often each year. As such, you'd assume that we could just sing that song, on demand, without any (or very little) rehearsing needed.
Nope!
As we rehearsed it Thursday night, the conductor stopped us a total of 25 times (yes, I counted) to fix this or that. Such stops were mostly related to intonation issues and after stop 10, I just kept thinking, "Really, we're that bad at singing this song? How could that be?"
I immediately thought about how this experience related to life in general. Most of us--at least the people who I know--sometimes get into a habit of just "going through the motions". It's like we flip on the "automatic pilot" switch and expect the results to be just as good as the last time we did whatever we're doing--all without much thought or effort. The problem is, by nature, we tend to gravitate to a result that's really only average.
It's only by switching OFF auto-pilot and re-engaging ourselves that we can ascend upwards and obtain a result that's not ordinary, but extraordinary. As our conductors in the choir always say, we need to think! Concentrate on what we're doing and treat every step (or note) as something that deserves our attention and our very best. Then, we will have a product that's truly worth sharing--one that truly taps into, and capitalizes on, our potential.
On another note, the whole reason we were singing Climb Every Mountain Thursday night was not because we were going to perform it anytime soon, but because it was being used as a try-out piece for the individual who was auditioning for the part-time organist position. While those auditions are going on, the Choir has already selected its new full-time organist, Brian Mathias. You can read all about him, HERE. Welcome to the family, Brian!
Lastly, next week we start extra rehearsals for the upcoming Easter Concert (Handel's Messiah). The choir has had a few weeks of no extra rehearsals lately. Which has been nice. But we will now say a fond farewell to those "normal" Sundays and say a hello to the new normal Sundays.
Until next week, God be with you.
One of the challenges of being in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir is being completely focused during rehearsals--and particularly during performances. I'm one of those people who sometimes has a difficult time with this because of what's going on out in the audience. It's not that the audience members are doing anything wrong or being distracting, it's just that I want them to have the best experience possible.
As they walk in, I see them heading towards seats closest to the choir and orchestra--only to be course-corrected by the ushers (who have been instructed to keep the audience in certain sections). I see some who sometimes get past the ushers, get comfortable, and then be told they have to go find another spot. I sometimes see a large number of prime viewing rows on the main floor be blocked off by "reserved" signs and wonder if that makes other people feel less important and frustrated. I see several people who sit alone and it makes me instinctively sad. I want to go sit next to them and give them a personal welcome (though I realize some may prefer isolation or simply be OK with it). I get frustrated when people who have come to watch us rehearse aren't greeted until most of them have actually left already.
And the list goes on.
I have to remember, though, a very important fact of life: we all have a part to play and, to the extent possible, I need to let go of those things I have no control over. It does me absolutely no good to worry about any of the scenarios described above. In fact, said scenarios are a distraction and take away from my own part to play: a focused, unified singer. I should have faith that the ushers can handle the audience (we love you, ushers--you sometimes have a very hard job!), I should let the director decide when it's best to extend a welcome, and I should let individual audience members manage their own musical and spiritual experience. And then after letting go of all of those things, I can do what I've been asked to do, and what I love to do, much more efficiently and effectively.
I suppose there's a life lesson here no matter who you are and what each day entails for you. Play your part, avoid distractions, keep your "eye on the prize", and life will be better. I can promise you it will.
Until next time, God be with you.
