I sing in the choir of my church. We have a musical director who is very talented and we have put together some pretty fantastic holiday musicals over the years. This year we did a Christmas contata called “Gloria Deo”. We had a 20 piece orchestra complete with tympanny and percussion, and we have been working on the music for several months.
I am a tenor. Not a great tenor, but ok. I sometimes have a hard time finding the first note of a phrase, but once I do I can pretty much nail the rest of it. I don’t read music very well at all. Phil sits next to me. He plays piano and has pretty good pitch. I match him for the most part and somehow we make it through each Sunday and special performances. I have been singing in the choir for less than a year, and he has been in it for over 30, and he takes special care to help me along.
Saturday we had our final rehearsal for last night’s (Sunday’s) performance. The orchestra was with us and we felt pretty good about how it was coming together. The reprise ends with a dramatic phrase “in excelsius DEO!!!” with the tenors going way high and holding the “O” of Deo for quite a bit. Phil, of course nailed it. I struggled. Phil encouraged me and said to relax and just try to match him in pitch, or he would help me find a lower note that would fit the chord.
We were all worried bacause they were calling for the first snow of the season Sunday afternoon and that would really hurt attendance for our 7pm performance. Phil said it would be great if it started snowing while we sang “Still, Still, Still”, since it opens with “Still, still, still one can hear the falling snow…”. People could walk out of the church and feel like Christmas had begun with a bit of the white stuff after a Christmas musical.
Practice was over about 1pm, and we all went on our separate ways. I went home with my kids. Phil took his son to play tennis. At 4pm a friend of mine came to the door.
“Phil just had a heart attack. He’s dead”.
WHAT? Phil is fine. I just sat next to him inchoir rehearsal 3 hours ago!
We went to Phil’s house and sat in stunned silence with his family. People came and went all evening. The choir discussed scrapping the musical. Phil was a core part of the choir.
Would Phil want us to sing Sunday night? Yes he would. Finally his brother, a bass who sits a few people to Phil’s right spoke up. “If it were the other way around, Phil would be there for us.” With that it was decided. We would sing.
There were tears and prayers in the choir room as we prepared to take our places. The prelude began and the choir walked into the choir loft. We looked out at a packed room. Over 700 people. For us that is huge. Our director announced that we had lost a brother less than 24 hours ago, and the music this evening would me in his memory. When he took his place to direct the orchestra and the choir, his eyes teared briefly as he saw the blank place we left between us where Phil should be seated.
We plunged into the music. We sang from the bottom of our hearts. I have to say that it was the performance of a lifetime. We sang of a newborn baby come to save the world. We sang of peace on earth. We sang of love. The reprise was coming. That troublesome final note. It came. I nailed it. I mean NAILED it. The type of nailing it that causes your lips to quiver as the note coming out of your mouth exactly matches those around you and serves to fill out that chord the voices are forming. After that note…silence…1…2…3silence…4…5…a lone clap…then another…then an eruption. Then as one the congregation leapt to its feet. There was not a dry eye in the choir. With the help of God, and certainly Phil singing along, we had lifted out voices in praise during our dark hour.
The choir quickly changed out of our robes and went to join our families in the congregation. We heard “fantastic”, “beautiful”, “gorgeous”, “incredible”…but we knew that the glory was not ours.
As the doors opened as the first people began to leave, a hushed whisper went up. snow! We went to the doors and sure enough, as Phil had hoped, a gentle snow was falling and the troubled world we had left when we entered the church was covered in a blanket of new snow.
Love those around you! Treasure this season with them. Honor the newborn Baby who has been born to show you how to love!
Still, still, still, one can hear the falling snow…
Gloria In Excelsis Deo!
Merry Christmas to you all.