Mega-Rehearsal!

I wish I could get close enough to capture faces, but I am usually chained to the piano. The expressions of joy, concentration, and faithfulness on people's faces are sights to behold. One lady who plays brass, rings bells, and sings with the choir in our congregation was there Tuesday night as long as Cantor (6:00-9:00). To everyone attending Holy Week services, give your faithful musicians an extra pat on the back this week. Even better, send chocolate. And pray for them, that they may have strength and health and protection from the attacks of Satan, who likes nothing better than to go after pastors and musicians right before Christmas and Easter. God bless you as we enter the Great Three Days, and soli Deo gloria!

 Rehearsing "Christ is Risen, He is Risen Indeed."

 Our wonderful choir and director.

Our "oboe" player for Good Friday.  

"You part the waters like this."

See You at the Party

In addition to the Tenebrae, our congregation has an afternoon Good Friday service. It is not technically a Tre Ore ("Three Hours") service because it does not start at noon and end at 3:00. It is also not three hours long, but it does have many of the elements of the Tre Ore (the reading of the Passion narrative, and the Bidding Prayer, for example). The service is held at 4:00 p.m.; from 12:00 until 3:00 our pastors are available for individual Confession and Absolution.

I normally attend the Tenebrae rather than the afternoon service because that's where I am needed to serve as a musician. And although I might personally choose to attend both services, asking young children to do so is pressing my luck. So I have not always attended the afternoon service. But yesterday I did, and now I don't think I will ever want to miss it again (and since my last baby is now 5 years old, I don't think I'll have to). I don't know why--maybe I am just finally growing up--but I have never been more engaged in the reading of the Passion than I was yesterday afternoon. It was broken into segments and interspersed with stanzas of "O Sacred Head, Now Wounded" and was followed by a homily during which Pastor pointed us to the various parts of Jesus' body and how they received the punishment that should have been ours. Then we sang, "Stricken, Smitten, and Afflicted," the final two stanzas of which speak Law and Gospel as clearly as anything I can think of:

Ye who think of sin but lightly
Nor suppose the evil great
Here may view its nature rightly,
Here its guilt may estimate.
Mark the sacrifice appointed,
See who bears the awful load;
'Tis the Word, the Lord's anointed,
Son of Man and Son of God.

Here we have a firm foundation,
Here the refuge of the lost:
Christ the Rock of our salvation,
Is the name of which we boast;
Lamb of God, for sinners wounded,
Sacrifice to cancel guilt!
None shall ever be confounded
Who on Him their hope have built.

By the end of the hymn I felt as though I could look Satan himself in the eye and without flinching tell the old buzzard to "Get lost! I have Jesus on my side!"

Of course I couldn't have. Not of my own power, anyway. And neither can you. But we who wear the name of Jesus may boast indeed, because it is He who stands between us and Satan and who in our stead 2000 years ago told Satan to "Get lost!" And He continues to do so today and every day in a million different ways, each time we flee to Him who is our refuge.

It is finished. The battle is won. I'm going to the victory celebration.

Are you?

The Great Three Days

Today begins the Triduum, the three days leading up to Easter and comprised of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil (or as I learned to call it in my Roman Catholic days, Holy Saturday). I love this time of the church year not only for the obvious reason--its centrality to my Christian faith--but also for some more selfish reasons. At least in our family, it is a celebration that comes without a lot of worldly trappings and temptations. There are no cards to send, no shopping to do, no decorations to put up, no presents to wrap, and no holiday parties to attend. Oh, we do try to have a special Easter dinner, but if finances allow we go out to do it. And we do leave a gift for each of our children to find on Easter morning. But it's modest compared to what they receive at Christmas, and it doesn't come from the Easter bunny. I have thought in the past about sending out Easter cards--isn't Easter, after all, THE culmination of God's promise to His children? If ever there were a day to celebrate by sending cards to Christian friends, it seems this is it. But I have never really seriously considered it, especially since I do well to get the Christmas cards done each year. And while I might try to find something special with which to adorn the table or entry way of our home--maybe setting out some fresh cut flowers or spring-themed knick-knacks, for example--that's the extent of my Easter decorating (if I even do that).

So instead of getting caught up in the trappings, as I am wont to do at Christmas, and instead of getting stressed out as a result of all those trappings, I find myself going into the Great Three Days with a sense of calm and focus. I can call off school and not feel guilty about it. Even with the increased rehearsals and services that make heavy demands on this family of musicians, today I feel not that life is accelerating beyond my control but that it is slowing down, allowing me time to reflect and pray. For the next three days everything else will fade into the background while the central focus of each day is the evening worship service that will once again relate the greatest love story ever told.

I plan over the next three days to post some musical excerpts from the Triduum services at my parish. I hope you'll stop back by.

"My song is love unknown,

My Savior's love to me,

Love to the loveless shown

That they might lovely be.

Oh, who am I

That for my sake

My Lord should take
Frail flesh and die.

Here might I stay and sing,

No story so divine!

Never was love, dear King,

Never was grief like Thine.

This is my friend,

In whose sweet praise

I all my days

Could gladly spend!"

("My Song Is Love Unknown," Stanzas 1 & 7, Lutheran Service Book 430)

Triduum Tableaux

Triduum - The "great three days" of Jesus' Passion, death, and resurrection, beginning the evening of Maundy Thursday and continuing through the celebration of Easter Sunday.

Tableau - a vivid image, scene or picture.

As I reflect on the Triduum weekend, here are a few of the tableaux that come to mind:

The bittersweet lump in my throat while watching the stripping of the altar at the conclusion of the Maundy Thursday service as cantors and congregation responsively sang Psalm 136: "Give thanks to the Lord for He is good; His mercy endures forever."

Trying to warm up with the adult choir on Good Friday amidst a virtual forest of Easter lilies in my church's "Multi-Purpose Room" . . . it was like singing in a flower shop (not great for the more allergic among us)! It's not supposed to smell like Easter on Good Friday, but the lilies had arrived and needed a place to be. Multi-Purpose Room indeed! (It also serves as a meeting place and Sunday School classroom as well as the day school lunchroom.)

Accompanying my husband on piano while he sang "Why Do the Nations So Furiously Rage Together?" (Psalm 2) from Handel's Messiah and wondering how anyone's fingers could possibly play all those notes at such a raging and furious tempo (I will admit that thanks to some carefully planned edits, these fingers didn't).

The Litany (prayers) sung in a darkened sanctuary at the conclusion of the Good Friday Tenebrae, followed by the congregation's whispered Lord's Prayer, the final crying out of Jesus ("Eloi, Eloi, Lama Sabachthani?") and taking away of the Christ candle, the drum roll and strepitus signifying the closing of Jesus' tomb (as I tried to reassure my nervous 4-year-old), and the return of the Christ candle (signifying Jesus' impending resurrection) while the sweet voice of a child (in this case, my own little girl) sang a cappella the words of Paul Gerhardt: "O wondrous Love, what have You done! The Father offers up His Son, Desiring our salvation. O Love, how strong You are to save! You lay the One into the grave Who built the earth's foundation."

Rejoicing in the adult baptism that took place at our Easter Vigil service, and then hearing the amazing news that Pope Benedict baptized a Muslim man at the Easter Vigil in Rome. Read more about it here.

Waking up at 4:15 a.m. on Sunday morning and not minding one bit because it's Easter and Christ is risen! . . . then hurrying to put on the crock pot and fill the Easter basket before leaving for sunrise service.

Driving to church with my children at 5:45 a.m. and noting with wonder the full moon that due to atmospheric conditions (or something else?) was exhibiting a most unusual glow this day, resulting in vertical and horizontal beams of light emanating from it so as to create a cross shape in the sky . . . the vertical beam was highly pronounced, the horizontal beam less so, but nevertheless, the cross was there, shining in the darkness and leaving me speechless. I stopped at an intersection and tried to take a photo, but time was short and conditions didn't cooperate, so this picture in words will have to suffice. Wow.

Warming up with the adult choir once again on Sunday morning in the Multi-Purpose Room, this time while shivering with cold because the outside door had been left open to help dissipate the haze of smoke wafting in from whatever had burned next door in the kitchen as the youth prepared Easter breakfast.

Enjoying that mouth-watering Easter breakfast (eggs, pancakes, Canadian bacon, pastries, coffee and orange juice) served restaurant, not buffet style, in peace with my husband and two older children while the youngest slumbered at home with Grandma (I picked them both up for a later service).

Thinking to myself during communion that one of the reasons I prefer male lay ministers (aside from its being Biblical) is that there is nothing so touching as seeing those big, strong, tall men humbly serving their brothers and sisters in Christ as, with the utmost care, they carry the very blood of the Saviour and carefully bend down to lift that life-giving chalice to waiting lips while gently gazing into the communicant's face and pronouncing the gift of Christ's blood, "shed for you."

Preparing to accompany the youth choir on organ while my husband (the cantor) and friend (assistant cantor) nervously double-checked stops and pedals for me . . . . I say this not with resentment but with appreciation for their care . . . I am not an organist and need all the help I can get on the rare occasions I lower myself on that bench!

Playing percussion on the Tanzanian hymn "Christ Has Arisen, Alleluia!" (LSB 466) with my two older children as well as the same friend mentioned in the previous line while my husband played piano . . . it was joyful, and all we needed to complete the picture was some of these.

Playing the piano while my daughter's choir sang the Gerhardt hymn "Awake My Heart with Gladness" (full text here) to music by an especially gifted contemporary composer (see more of his stuff here and here).

Listening to my husband play and sing his way through eight liturgies in four days and realizing that having never had another cantor during my 20-plus years in the LCMS I am one blessed Lutheran indeed.

Helping my 4-year-old look for his "Ow-We-Woo-Ya" (Alleluia) butterfly (photo below).




Noting with satisfaction the "Closed" status of many of the retail businesses in our neighborhood as we drove home after services . . . though not as many were closed as on Christmas Day.

Coming home to a waiting crock pot full of this lady's ham and potato casserole (thanks for the recipe, Glenda!)

Returning from taking my mother home Easter evening to discover my four-year-old bleeding from the forehead . . . . a closer look revealed a deep cut in need of more than a bandage. . . . so off to the ER we went. Five stitches and a couple of days later he is doing just fine, but we still can't figure out exactly how one gets a cut on the forehead from running into the refrigerator (no one saw it happen, so we have to rely on his version of events, and all we know is that he was chasing the dog, or vice versa, and somehow the refrigerator attacked him!)