Five years ago, almost to the day (2/9/14), was my first Music & the Spoken Word broadcast. I remember the experience vividly--who I was sitting by, which row I was on, how I was feeling, and how excited I was. Just a clip from my blog on that day: "What a rush singing with
the choir today for Music and the Spoken Word! Can't quite describe all
the feelings I was having. Nervous, humble, excited. . .and always
wondering when the camera was coming my way (which apparently it did a
few times). Overall, I was just grateful once again for being able to
sing with this choir. I was praying the most that my testimony, fused
with the music and lyrics of today's numbers, would touch someone's
heart and inspire them to be just a little better."
*Interestingly enough, today's rehearsal before the broadcast will probably go down as one of the most frustrating for our dear director, Mack. Intonation issues, rhythm issues, placement issues...especially for one of the songs we were rehearsing, "Lovely Appear". However, it was very gratifying to see how happy Mack was after we performed that song on the broadcast. It must have gone very well because there was a smile on his face afterwards, along with a thumbs-up!
*So on Thursday night for rehearsal, evidence of dress code changes for the women was easy to spot. Following the announcement that sister missionaries around the world could now wear dress pants/slacks, the presidency of the Choir decided to extend that same dress code change to the women of the choir (since, after all, those in the choir ARE called to be musical missionaries). Many of the women rejoiced at the change and several took a pic to commemorate the historical dress code modification.
*On Thursday, as well, President Jarrett told us that they wouldn't be able to tell us about our 2020 Tour destination in February, like had been previously announced. Not sure what's going on behind the scenes, but I suppose the announcement will be coming out soon.
*With my son leaving on a mission just this past Wednesday, I'm a bit of an emotional mess. Up, down, and every which way. While choir this week was good, I'm grateful for my patient choir brethren who had to put up with a somber Ryan. Lots of trials going on right now, and I'm not sure how I feel about everything. But things are easier to get through with a good support system at home, with friends who reach out, and with a God who definitely looks at us as kids as kids worth bothering about.
Until next time, God be with you.
I'm standing in a very spacious, brilliantly-white building that doesn't seem to have a roof. Millions are gathered, and I sense that my loved ones are with me--somewhere--though I can't actually see them. Somehow, even though we're there, together, we're also there just as individuals, waiting. Waiting for the last laborers to join us. There's a sense of urgency for those last few people to come. Time is running out and I'm anxious to see if anyone else I know will come through a set of doors, over in one of the corners. I notice, though, that the once steady-stream of people coming through those doors has now turned into a trickle and I wonder, and hope, there will be more.
I begin to sense there are only a few minutes left and then God will have gathered in the last of His sheep. Such an exciting time! So many people I know have fought the good fight and finished the race. They have overcome incredible personal challenges and with faith in their Savior, they have finally made it home. My joy, though, is not yet complete as I keep looking at the doors. I get the strong impression there is someone I know and love who is not yet with us. And I can tell from the music playing that only a minute or so remains. The chorus of voices, the swelling of the strings, the crescendos of sound are now retreating--becoming less and less. The voices are calling upon all of us to rejoice, but how can I completely rejoice when there's someone else who needs to come through that door?
I slowly move closer towards the doors. Perhaps only 15 seconds remain in the song. Tears spring to my eyes as I'm forced to confront the possibility of someone I love not joining in the invitation to rejoice. Then it happens. As the last "rejoice" is sung, the doors quietly open one last time and the last laborer walks through. It is him. He has come! My tears turn to those of happiness and of wonder, mercy, and grace. My soul fills with immense gratitude as I give him a big hug of love and relief. And though the song has ended and we wait quietly for Christ to appear, my soul inwardly continues to sing that one word. The word I can now wholeheartedly endorse: Rejoice!
This emotionally draining narrative above is what goes on in my head and heart every time we sing All People That on Earth Do Dwell. I don't know why, but it does. I don't even know who the last laborer truly is in this story, strangely enough. I never get to see his face. But after the song is over, I'm left to ponder the reality that we're all laborers. We're all on this journey. Some started a long time ago, while others joined just recently or have yet to join. But wherever we all are, I hope we can live with a sense of urgency to love and allow others to love us. After all, that last laborer may very well choose to walk through those doors because of us--because the love we showed them helped them become the person they wanted to be, and the person God wanted them to be.
Until next time, God be with you.
Whenever there's something that comes up in life that takes me away from attending Choir, I'm usually quick to point out how much I really missed being with my fellow Choir singers. However, I won't say that today because of how much I enjoyed being with my family today at our Church's worship service. My son Joshua, who'll be leaving our family soon to serve a two-year mission in Albania, spoke to the congregation today and did a marvelous job bearing testimony of Jesus Christ. My wife and I sat there, enveloped in the Spirit, tearing up at how much our little boy had grown up and how he had developed such a firm and unyielding testimony of his own.
I wouldn't have missed those few minutes for anything.
One of the songs the choir sang today (and which I rehearsed with them on Thursday) was "Thou Lovely Source of True Delight" (link from today's broadcast here, while it lasts). There are two sentences that fit in with a lesson my wife gave me and our kids at home this evening:
Jesus, my Lord, my life, my light
Oh come with blissful ray.
Break radiant through the shades of night
And chase my fears away.
On top of Josh leaving soon--joining his sister in preaching the Gospel--there's a lot of uncertainty in the Pitt home right now with a variety of things. What's going to happen with this? What about that? How do we think the Lord will direct out path with this? What am I supposed to think about that? What if we have to go to Plan B with this? Will we have enough faith if this happens but not that? A thought from today's spoken word sums it up by saying, "Fear and uncertainty crash and swirl all around us, and we feel that all we can do is hold on for dear life—if we could only find something to hold onto."
It's the light of Christ that can break through the fear, the uncertainty, and all of the vexing questions that plague us from day to day. It can literally chase our fears away. So for my wife and I, we're choosing to have faith that the light we seek will, indeed, come and illuminate the path--if only for a minute or two--so we can take those next few steps forward. And if we stumble over rocks or have to take unplanned detours, or realize that instead of going left, we have to go right, then we'll just go right and know that God's perfect plan is just that--perfect.
After all...why would we want any other plan?
Until next time, God be with you.
Given that tomorrow is Martin Luther King Jr Day, the choir, orchestra, and bells all joined together to present a program honoring the heritage of African-Americans and their fight for civil rights. All of the songs we sang/performed were spirituals and aside from "The Little Light of Mine", all of the others were ones that were new to me. So, it was both rewarding and humbling to learn these songs and sing the lyrics that speak of longing, of hoping, of struggling, and of obtaining rest.
Joining us on the program was special guest Robert Sims who has performed with the choir in the past, several years ago. He did a marvelous job, as did his piano accompanist. After the broadcast, we had them face the choir (as is tradition with any special guest), and watch us as we sang "God Be With You" to them. I'm not sure why that is always such a highlight, but every time I get to be a part of that experience, it really touches me. Maybe it's because we're literally singing to
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| Robert Sims |
"the one". Or maybe it's because of the words themselves and the realization that we may not meet or see this person for the rest of our mortal journey. Maybe it's because it's obvious how much the experience is affecting the one we're singing to (they usually tear up). Perhaps it's just a sweet combination of all those reasons. :)
I'm grateful for the progress this nation has made in combating racism and prejudice in all its forms. There's obviously still work to be done. Singing these songs today made me feel closer to all those who have had to struggle with feeling equal and loved and I'm grateful for all of those individuals and organizations around the world that work so hard to promote peace and love for all mankind.
Until next time, God be with you.
Throughout my experience in the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square, I've often wondered about the contribution each individual person makes--given the choir's large size. I mean, on any given performance, there may be over 360 singers who are contributing to the overall sound and presentation. That's a lot of people. So does it really matter when I, or any other person, isn't there?
There are plenty who would say "no", I imagine. I used to think that myself. We talk a lot about the power of unity and why it's so important to "be one". And indeed it is. In the Choir, we strive to be one in purpose and one in heart. We want our audience members around the world to feel that "oneness" and to receive our combined message of hope, of peace, and of love. So is there really a difference between a 359-person choir and a 360-person choir if the 359-person choir can still achieve that unity?
I would argue YES.
I wrote awhile ago about how the choir is made up of a lot of different people. We each have our strengths and our personalized experiences. We each have our unique challenges and fears that we're trying to conquer. We each have a very individualized testimony of why we're all here and what matters most to us. It's almost as if we're each a very long mathematical formula, or a quilt with a very complicated pattern, or a meandering path on a mountain made up of unique twists, and turns, and elevation changes.
But even though we're unique, there are others in the world who are similar to us. They share similar burdens, have similar experiences, and conquer similar fears. They connect with who we are, at our core, and are influenced by our compassion and our empathy. Call them our "soul buddies" if you will.
So as singers, when we put everything who makes us, us, into our voices, combining the beautiful medium of communication (the song) with the sum total of our souls, we each end up influencing different people. Annie in California, Julio in Mexico, Monique in France, and Illiyan in Bulgaria hear the same united voices, but their souls are most affected and influenced by that one person who is their soul buddy. They feel the strength of the unified sound which is a combination of all of the unique voices. But they connect with that one voice. That one voice that can so effectively lift them and leave them with a feeling that they are not alone.
While I certainly can't prove my "influence theory", it works for me. Partly because it makes sense, partly because it just feels right, and partly because it helps me personally--in those moments when I'm feeling like I don't really matter. When such moments come, I have to remind myself that I do matter. A reminder that isn't just for me--but for my soul buddies who are counting on me.
Until next time, God be with you.
From time to time, I just like to include a few random comments on my blog and today is one of those days. So thanks for reading an entry that is pretty much "theme-less"!
*We performed the first Music & Spoken Word of the year 2019 with our blue blazers, grey slacks, and "gold" tie (I've never really liked that classification because technically it's more orange than gold). There's a possibility that this year we'll be getting a new suit (light grey, perhaps?) to replace the white jacket, but I cannot confirm or deny that possibility. Still, it sure would be nice. Don't get me wrong...I'm really grateful for this singing and missionary opportunity and am glad to wear whatever. But most of our suits are dark (dark blue, dark grey, black, etc) so a lighter color would, in my opinion, be GREAT.
*I never get tired of singing "How Firm a Foundation". If there was any song that sent the spirit soaring across the audience (and over the airwaves and through fiber optics), it was this one. My 2nd favorite today was "The Garden". Willy and I were commenting on the ride home how much we like that one and how much Ryan Murphy gets into conducting it. Ryan's commentary, too, about parts of the song, why he arranged it the way he did, and his overall perspective on things, are always welcome and appreciated.
*The NEW choir members were in attendance today (30+), observing the broadcast from the bench seats closest to the loft. Woohoo! It's always great to start a new year with new people who are so extremely happy to launch into their uniquely new calling. They will be going through four months of choir school, and then will join us in May as they graduate from that into members of the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square.
*My home ward meets at 9AM this year and as such, I won't be able to attend. It's hard not being able to worship with my family and ward friends each Sunday. But, serving in the Church (and serving other people in general) always incorporates and requires sacrifice. And this year, not being able to attend my home ward will definitely be ones of those sacrifices.
*After the broadcast was over today, the four of us in the carpool had to hurry as quick as we could so that two of us could try and make church by 10:30. (Ben and Alan meet at 10:30, while Willy and myself meet at 9) I guess we'll need to downsize our socializing and work on getting out of the Tabernacle and onto the road, in very short order. :)
*I was inspired this past week to learn the words to an aforementioned song, The Garden. It wasn't a song that we were asked to memorize. But I wanted to learn the words anyway and knew that my friend Wes would have surely done the same thing had he not been attending to other very important events (he blessed his baby today). I think I'll make it a goal this year to memorize more music even if we're not officially asked to. It makes singing songs just that much better.
Until next time, God be with you.
With the ending of 2018, my year #5 in the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square comes to a close. Year five is significant only because it's technically fulfilling the minimum requirement agreed upon when joining the choir. People often ask me how long I plan to stay in the choir and I'm never exactly sure what to say to that question. For now though, I plan to continue this journey as I still feel like I have things to contribute, experiences to go through, and people to influence (and be influenced by). So...on to 2019!
My blog post last week captured some interesting choir "stats" for 2018 and if that's something you might find interesting, you can click HERE to view those. In that post, I mentioned that Siope (fellow choir member) would be publishing his annual infographic, and sure enough, he did so today. Here's how it looks. Thanks Siope for the great job you always do in capturing the events of each year! (click to enlarge)
For some additional stats and tidbits, including how many songs we sung, the most worn tie, the most sung song, etc., click HERE.
With that, I just want to say again how grateful I am for the experiences I've had this year in the choir. Words seem to fail me when trying to adequately express all of my feelings and thoughts about this past year. But suffice it to say, I'm just very grateful. Grateful for the music, the people, the experiences, the opportunities, and the love I feel when singing. And I'm thankful for a very supportive wife and for my five kids who support me week in and week out.
Until next time, God be with you.
