In which our hero speaks in the late evening, concerning the things of his morning....
This morning, as is my joyous custom, I went to church.
Big surprise, right?
This week, Kantor is gone and thus it was necessary for me to take up the duties normally performed by the choir; that is, the chanting of the Introit, Gradual, and Alleluia. I sat in the choir loft and performed my duties in their due order.
However, herein lies the rub.
I am having serious voice trouble. I don't know what caused it, but during a rehearsal last week I felt something odd in my voice, and it has been hit and miss ever since. My voice teacher chalked it up to fatigue and stress, and, with hope, it will recover after a brief respite. If not, I will have to visit an ENT specialist and figure out what is wrong.
Either way, it may mean a bit of a change in tack concerning how and when I use my voice.
But, I digress--as usual-- for I was talking about Christ and the Church....
I was able to serve in my duties as cantor, but that was it. I had to refrain from speaking the liturgy, or singing the hymns. I was effectively mute for the entirety of the early and late services. Which is really a shame, the hymns were generally excellent today.
I had one serious bonus to my morning this morning. Because I was acting as cantor, I was in the choir loft with my God-Brother, Pendragon. Pendragon is a little guy with Down Syndrome. He doesn't talk and he communicates mostly by sign-language. And today, we spent the service together in silence.
Silent, but confessing.
Neither of us could speak the liturgy, however, as the Service progressed we went through the rubrics. When the congregation said, "The Lord be with you" we opened our hands with the blessing. We bowed for the Sanctus, genuflected for the Creed, and crossed ourselves for the Gospel. Pendragon would chime in by saying, "Amen" in sign and I would open his hymnal to the hymns so we could read along.
And this made me reflect, as I often have, on the orderly, repeated, structured, physically active conduct of the Service. I could not speak, but I could participate in the ceremonies which I have learned and have become a part of my understanding and memory. But even more than for me, these things matter for little kids, especially little ones like Pendragon. From the youngest age they can learn to participate, to discipline their bodies in God's sanctuary, and to recognize the significance of what is going on. Then, as they grow older they learn the significance of those things that they have always had.
I have a friend who told me that that most beautiful confession they had ever witnessed had been the spontaneous, heartfelt prayer of little child asking for protection for his family.
The most beautiful confession I have ever seen, was a five-year-old with Down Syndrome, beckoning me to join him at the rail to kneel and confess...
Thanks for reading.
Showing posts with label winning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winning. Show all posts
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
Escape
In which our hero gets away from it all....
On certain satellite radio services, there is a particular station which plays schmaltzy, jazz-lounge-ish music. The station alternated announcers and each one had a different manner in which they delivered the primary tagline. All of them over delivered it and consequentially sounded absurd doing so.
Apart from the fact that the music was insipid and the announcers unbelievable, what they were proposing was ridiculous. You are listening to satellite radio, which almost necessarily means driving, which, in my mind, is the absolute most polar opposite thing from 'getting away from it all.' Driving is death, and panic, and fire, and burglars, and demons, and madmen, and thieves, and charlatans, and scoundrels, and villains......
{This section of the manuscript has been removed by the NSA to preserve the life-force and sanity of the general populace}
.... it's just wretched.
So then, the purpose of this spiel.
This weekend, I got away from it all. I have been having a terrible time getting acclimated to being at school; acclimating to not spending time with my bros; not being in control of my own schedule; not getting to spend all day with my niece when she was here. I feel like I don't have time, even though I am on top of my studies, and am really faring better than fair. I love the work. I love my music. So, why the stress and lack of restiveness?
Je ne sais pas.
Whatever it is; I got away. I had homework that needed to be done, sure. But homework can wait for the lonesome hours. I didn't have a plan, sure. It was all impromptu, the only plan being that friends were in town, and I was going to spend every second I could in their incomparable society. I put the hazards and care of my life away and immersed myself in the mutual consolation of the brethren.
And there were stories for the telling, and roads to be run. There was trudging through trees, and foolishness in fields. We gandered at greenery and milled in modalities. We spoke, or were silent. Cried out, or said nothing at all. We posed for portraiture and laughed til it hurt. We talked of everything, and nothing, of cabbages, and even of kings; discourse in dialectics of didactics of demeanor and distraction. Words were exchanged, at cost or gain (and non cared the more which for.)
A day marked by the sheer unbridled happiness of a soul and mind at rest. Sure there was thinking, there might have even been some level of worry at times.
But what are such things, when one is among his friends?
Thanks for reading.
On certain satellite radio services, there is a particular station which plays schmaltzy, jazz-lounge-ish music. The station alternated announcers and each one had a different manner in which they delivered the primary tagline. All of them over delivered it and consequentially sounded absurd doing so.
Apart from the fact that the music was insipid and the announcers unbelievable, what they were proposing was ridiculous. You are listening to satellite radio, which almost necessarily means driving, which, in my mind, is the absolute most polar opposite thing from 'getting away from it all.' Driving is death, and panic, and fire, and burglars, and demons, and madmen, and thieves, and charlatans, and scoundrels, and villains......
{This section of the manuscript has been removed by the NSA to preserve the life-force and sanity of the general populace}
.... it's just wretched.
So then, the purpose of this spiel.
This weekend, I got away from it all. I have been having a terrible time getting acclimated to being at school; acclimating to not spending time with my bros; not being in control of my own schedule; not getting to spend all day with my niece when she was here. I feel like I don't have time, even though I am on top of my studies, and am really faring better than fair. I love the work. I love my music. So, why the stress and lack of restiveness?
Je ne sais pas.
Whatever it is; I got away. I had homework that needed to be done, sure. But homework can wait for the lonesome hours. I didn't have a plan, sure. It was all impromptu, the only plan being that friends were in town, and I was going to spend every second I could in their incomparable society. I put the hazards and care of my life away and immersed myself in the mutual consolation of the brethren.
And there were stories for the telling, and roads to be run. There was trudging through trees, and foolishness in fields. We gandered at greenery and milled in modalities. We spoke, or were silent. Cried out, or said nothing at all. We posed for portraiture and laughed til it hurt. We talked of everything, and nothing, of cabbages, and even of kings; discourse in dialectics of didactics of demeanor and distraction. Words were exchanged, at cost or gain (and non cared the more which for.)
A day marked by the sheer unbridled happiness of a soul and mind at rest. Sure there was thinking, there might have even been some level of worry at times.
But what are such things, when one is among his friends?
Thanks for reading.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
I See What You Did There....
In which our Hero reflects on the wisdom of certain class requirements....
I am now several weeks into my classes, they are going very well, I have scored A's on all my tests so far. With this I am well and truly pleased. However even thus so well disposed as I am, I still stress out... this does not probably bode well for the future. This weekend a lot of that tension was at least lightened, if not removed.
My weekend began on Friday night, as many weekends do. I had decided on Wednesday that I wanted to see the Heartland Chamber Chorale Festival Chorus perform "Carmina Burana" with the Ft. Wayne Ballet. I was able, due to the help of a friend, to get a job ushering so that I did not have to pay. I had never heard "Carmina Burana" all the way through from beginning to end, and so, I was blown off my feet. It was an excellent performance, the Ballet was marvelous and the choir sang beautifully.
My weekend continued with Saturday, as weekends must. On Saturday evening, having spent my afternoon doing homework, I attended the Ft. Wayne Philharmonic's season opening concert. Rachmaninoff and Dvorak, absolutely sublime. I came out of that concert tired from just watching the pianist play the Rachmaninoff, feeling generally giddy having heard the spectacular Dvorak concerto.
My weekend is ending with Sunday, as it always will. Today, I went to church and had the supreme joy in participating and listening to the music of the Church, hymn and chant and high-thanksgiving. After church there was a welcome brunch for the Seminary students, a jovial affair, as always. Afterwards I came home and sat around doing nothing until it was time to leave for the French Baroque recital at IPFW. Not nearly as grand scale as either of the other concerts, but definitely well worth listening to; lovely pieces being played on stringed instruments of that time period.
Ah, but you must be saying, "Why? Why go on so long with seemingly no end, and no point, in sight?" and now friends, I will state my hypothesis. The IPFW Department of Music requires that its students attend ten performances in the community every semester. The point being that if you cannot manage that much, you have no business studying music; you have to be interested in music to study it. But I think it serves a dual purpose, I think that it also serves to calm down stressed-out music majors. It is almost impossible for me to imagine feeling stressed at all while sitting and listening to a live performance of some variety. It is a very relaxing experience. You cannot really spend any time worrying if you are busy listening to the music.
But now I must prepare for the week. With a performance on Tuesday and theory picking up in tempo, (yuk yuk) I will have an interesting and busy week ahead of me. At least, as I approach the week, I will have the memory of such beautiful music.
I am now several weeks into my classes, they are going very well, I have scored A's on all my tests so far. With this I am well and truly pleased. However even thus so well disposed as I am, I still stress out... this does not probably bode well for the future. This weekend a lot of that tension was at least lightened, if not removed.
My weekend began on Friday night, as many weekends do. I had decided on Wednesday that I wanted to see the Heartland Chamber Chorale Festival Chorus perform "Carmina Burana" with the Ft. Wayne Ballet. I was able, due to the help of a friend, to get a job ushering so that I did not have to pay. I had never heard "Carmina Burana" all the way through from beginning to end, and so, I was blown off my feet. It was an excellent performance, the Ballet was marvelous and the choir sang beautifully.
My weekend continued with Saturday, as weekends must. On Saturday evening, having spent my afternoon doing homework, I attended the Ft. Wayne Philharmonic's season opening concert. Rachmaninoff and Dvorak, absolutely sublime. I came out of that concert tired from just watching the pianist play the Rachmaninoff, feeling generally giddy having heard the spectacular Dvorak concerto.
My weekend is ending with Sunday, as it always will. Today, I went to church and had the supreme joy in participating and listening to the music of the Church, hymn and chant and high-thanksgiving. After church there was a welcome brunch for the Seminary students, a jovial affair, as always. Afterwards I came home and sat around doing nothing until it was time to leave for the French Baroque recital at IPFW. Not nearly as grand scale as either of the other concerts, but definitely well worth listening to; lovely pieces being played on stringed instruments of that time period.
Ah, but you must be saying, "Why? Why go on so long with seemingly no end, and no point, in sight?" and now friends, I will state my hypothesis. The IPFW Department of Music requires that its students attend ten performances in the community every semester. The point being that if you cannot manage that much, you have no business studying music; you have to be interested in music to study it. But I think it serves a dual purpose, I think that it also serves to calm down stressed-out music majors. It is almost impossible for me to imagine feeling stressed at all while sitting and listening to a live performance of some variety. It is a very relaxing experience. You cannot really spend any time worrying if you are busy listening to the music.
But now I must prepare for the week. With a performance on Tuesday and theory picking up in tempo, (yuk yuk) I will have an interesting and busy week ahead of me. At least, as I approach the week, I will have the memory of such beautiful music.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Rule Brittania!
In which our hero makes everything right with the world as he leads the English peoples to glorious victory against the lesser nations of the world.
The year is 1735; the peoples of the world have seen the fall of the Swedes, the United Provinces, the Portuguese and the Prussians; the peoples of Great Britain have proven themselves the economic, military, and technological power in the world. But this power had two great obstacles; the Brits only had fifteen years to overthrow their greatest adversaries, the Spaniards and the Frenchies, both in Europe and in their American holdings.
In the late end of the year, they made their move. In the single largest coordinated campaign in the history of line warfare. In two different theaters, the Americas and Europe, they attack with a force numbering in the tens of thousands; heavy cavalry, line infantry, 12lb howitzers and cannon, dragoons and a navy built to decide naval combat in the Atlantic for generations to come. They acted decisively, taking Brussels and the Netherlands in a matter of days; meanwhile their American counterpart army took one of the Spanish isles in the Caribbean. The French immediately begged for peace, offering large sums of gold in exchange for preservation. The Brits, being well versed in the art of haggling, bled them for all they were worth and peace was reached, for a time.
The Spaniards however remained resolute, attempting in various and sundry ways to weaken their English opponents, blockading ports and threatening trade routes, but they underestimated the resolve of the English merchant vessels and were summarily vanquished.
And then, four years into the war, treachery. A long time trading partner of the English, Denmark, thinking that they were too distracted by the combat with the Spaniards, declared war on them, hoping to take them by surprise and take their Swedish holdings. But the Danes were foolish in this, for, in secret, within the region of Sweden, the English had assembled a massive army, more than capable of taking Denmark, and, when the time was right, they struck, taking Denmark and all the surrounding territory in a single swift stroke.
Now back across the Atlantic to the American theater.
The English, having taken several territories and now trying to manage the subjugation of the local populace, were not prepared when the Spanish brought up a large, albeit ragamuffin, army from Lower Louisiana. They hit the English army hard and forced them to withdraw into a nearby city, to refit and resupply. The English waited, bringing up reinforcements from Georgia and down from the Iroquois territories, which I believe it is needless to say did not belong to the Iroquois any longer.
After sufficient forces were mustered, they struck, wiping out the Spaniard's unrefined peasant army in one swift stroke.
After that, the Spanish began to fold, losing the Regions of Portugal, Gibraltar, Louisiana, Madrid, Florida, Hispaniola and Cuba.
The French, having been at war with the great English sovereignty off and on, lost France and Quebec, their great strongholds in Europe an America, respectively.
Having achieved their Great goals, the British Empire went on to be the great power in world.
And everybody lived, happily. ever. after.... Amen.
The year is 1735; the peoples of the world have seen the fall of the Swedes, the United Provinces, the Portuguese and the Prussians; the peoples of Great Britain have proven themselves the economic, military, and technological power in the world. But this power had two great obstacles; the Brits only had fifteen years to overthrow their greatest adversaries, the Spaniards and the Frenchies, both in Europe and in their American holdings.
In the late end of the year, they made their move. In the single largest coordinated campaign in the history of line warfare. In two different theaters, the Americas and Europe, they attack with a force numbering in the tens of thousands; heavy cavalry, line infantry, 12lb howitzers and cannon, dragoons and a navy built to decide naval combat in the Atlantic for generations to come. They acted decisively, taking Brussels and the Netherlands in a matter of days; meanwhile their American counterpart army took one of the Spanish isles in the Caribbean. The French immediately begged for peace, offering large sums of gold in exchange for preservation. The Brits, being well versed in the art of haggling, bled them for all they were worth and peace was reached, for a time.
The Spaniards however remained resolute, attempting in various and sundry ways to weaken their English opponents, blockading ports and threatening trade routes, but they underestimated the resolve of the English merchant vessels and were summarily vanquished.
And then, four years into the war, treachery. A long time trading partner of the English, Denmark, thinking that they were too distracted by the combat with the Spaniards, declared war on them, hoping to take them by surprise and take their Swedish holdings. But the Danes were foolish in this, for, in secret, within the region of Sweden, the English had assembled a massive army, more than capable of taking Denmark, and, when the time was right, they struck, taking Denmark and all the surrounding territory in a single swift stroke.
Now back across the Atlantic to the American theater.
The English, having taken several territories and now trying to manage the subjugation of the local populace, were not prepared when the Spanish brought up a large, albeit ragamuffin, army from Lower Louisiana. They hit the English army hard and forced them to withdraw into a nearby city, to refit and resupply. The English waited, bringing up reinforcements from Georgia and down from the Iroquois territories, which I believe it is needless to say did not belong to the Iroquois any longer.
After sufficient forces were mustered, they struck, wiping out the Spaniard's unrefined peasant army in one swift stroke.
After that, the Spanish began to fold, losing the Regions of Portugal, Gibraltar, Louisiana, Madrid, Florida, Hispaniola and Cuba.
The French, having been at war with the great English sovereignty off and on, lost France and Quebec, their great strongholds in Europe an America, respectively.
Having achieved their Great goals, the British Empire went on to be the great power in world.
And everybody lived, happily. ever. after.... Amen.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
This Week With Oscy
In which our hero smack-talks at video games....
This week we have Oscy: Those of mutual acquaintance will know to whom I refer.
Needless to say he is a good friend and an excellent smack-talker. He is visiting this week to help us break-in the new HD tv.
I love watching him and my little brother play MW: II together; it's funny stuff. They sit and communicate strategies to each other, or smack-talking each other depending on how things are going.
The itinerary for Oscy's stay has been as follows....
Day one: We took Oscy home with us after Wednesday Divine Service; we then proceeded to fritter away the rest of the afternoon playing "ESV: Skyrim" and chatting about the game and the previous entries in the series; we enjoyed a wonderful meal provided by the grace of God through the agency of his servant, teh Mama; after dinner, we carried on with the playing of "Skyrim", staying up much later than is entirely wholesome.
Day two--thus far--: The day started for the three of us with another Divine Service, after which we stayed at church to drink coffee and chat for an hour; we then went home and spent most of the day, you guessed it, playing video games; we took a hiatus from the gaming and attended our churches Thursday night Divine Service -aren't we pious- and when we came back we watched "The King's Speech" a very good movie.
As of right now, even as I write this, they are attempting great feats of video gaming prowess.
Neither of them has dared the other to eat anything gross yet, but it's coming.
Ah, I love having Oscy over.
This week we have Oscy: Those of mutual acquaintance will know to whom I refer.
Needless to say he is a good friend and an excellent smack-talker. He is visiting this week to help us break-in the new HD tv.
I love watching him and my little brother play MW: II together; it's funny stuff. They sit and communicate strategies to each other, or smack-talking each other depending on how things are going.
The itinerary for Oscy's stay has been as follows....
Day one: We took Oscy home with us after Wednesday Divine Service; we then proceeded to fritter away the rest of the afternoon playing "ESV: Skyrim" and chatting about the game and the previous entries in the series; we enjoyed a wonderful meal provided by the grace of God through the agency of his servant, teh Mama; after dinner, we carried on with the playing of "Skyrim", staying up much later than is entirely wholesome.
Day two--thus far--: The day started for the three of us with another Divine Service, after which we stayed at church to drink coffee and chat for an hour; we then went home and spent most of the day, you guessed it, playing video games; we took a hiatus from the gaming and attended our churches Thursday night Divine Service -aren't we pious- and when we came back we watched "The King's Speech" a very good movie.
As of right now, even as I write this, they are attempting great feats of video gaming prowess.
Neither of them has dared the other to eat anything gross yet, but it's coming.
Ah, I love having Oscy over.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
A Tall Tale of Trade
I have a tale for you, my friends. A tale of hardship and struggle. A tale of four colonies struggling to survive in a rugged landscape....
Once upon a time, a great fleet of ships searching for a new home arrived on a bountiful island, Catan. They immediately struck out into this vast new land in an attempt to find their place. Many went north searching for wealth where there was wheat and brick, and the brick in that land was good. Some made their home on the far end of the island; they lived in peace with all despite being the greatest military power, and chose to devote their days to defending the land from robbers.
And then their were those who took for themselves the southern portion of the island. They were shrewd traders. They quickly expanded, claiming for their own the entirety of the south. They bade their time, working trades with the other colonies slowly positioning themselves into the perfect position. And then it happened...a merchant came to the local governor and said his favorite word in the world: monopoly. The shrewd merchant had discovered a way in which their colony could claim ownership of all brick produced on the island. The governor mobilized, and within a month the governors of the other colonies were informed of the treachery. They prayed for robbers to descend on the merchant colony, but no robbers came.
At that time, the local economy saw a great uptick in production; wood, grain and sheep were in great supply and the governor of the southern colony had great ambitions. He wished to build cities, and a great road that would make his colony the dominant force in the land but he had no ore to build his cities. Then, being a clever and shrewd merchant, he contacted his neighboring colony in the north. He offered them massive deals on brick if only they would give him a little ore. One of the neighboring colonies jumped at the chance because they hadn't any brick due to the recent monopoly. And so the governor had everything he needed and that day he commissioned the building of a great new city and a new settlement in the north as well as his great road.
Within the month, all the colonies on the island were either abandoned or they were controlled by the shrewd merchant governor. The End.
Well, there is our story. It's a story of hardship and struggle, but mostly it is the story of one governor's magnificent brilliance in wiping the floor with his opponents.
Once upon a time, a great fleet of ships searching for a new home arrived on a bountiful island, Catan. They immediately struck out into this vast new land in an attempt to find their place. Many went north searching for wealth where there was wheat and brick, and the brick in that land was good. Some made their home on the far end of the island; they lived in peace with all despite being the greatest military power, and chose to devote their days to defending the land from robbers.
And then their were those who took for themselves the southern portion of the island. They were shrewd traders. They quickly expanded, claiming for their own the entirety of the south. They bade their time, working trades with the other colonies slowly positioning themselves into the perfect position. And then it happened...a merchant came to the local governor and said his favorite word in the world: monopoly. The shrewd merchant had discovered a way in which their colony could claim ownership of all brick produced on the island. The governor mobilized, and within a month the governors of the other colonies were informed of the treachery. They prayed for robbers to descend on the merchant colony, but no robbers came.
At that time, the local economy saw a great uptick in production; wood, grain and sheep were in great supply and the governor of the southern colony had great ambitions. He wished to build cities, and a great road that would make his colony the dominant force in the land but he had no ore to build his cities. Then, being a clever and shrewd merchant, he contacted his neighboring colony in the north. He offered them massive deals on brick if only they would give him a little ore. One of the neighboring colonies jumped at the chance because they hadn't any brick due to the recent monopoly. And so the governor had everything he needed and that day he commissioned the building of a great new city and a new settlement in the north as well as his great road.
Within the month, all the colonies on the island were either abandoned or they were controlled by the shrewd merchant governor. The End.
Well, there is our story. It's a story of hardship and struggle, but mostly it is the story of one governor's magnificent brilliance in wiping the floor with his opponents.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)