Hallelujah

One of the songs on the album was Hallelujah from Christ on the Mount of Olives by Beethoven, and it was amazingly competent for 12- and 13-year-olds.

When I was in high school in Binghamton (upstate NY) in the late 1960s, my sister Leslie, another black teenage girl, and I were invited to visit the classroom of the junior high school in suburban Vestal. The reason, if I’m remembering correctly (and it was over 40 years ago) was that the only black teenagers they saw were ones on television, and in those days, that was mighty few.

Interestingly, the male teacher of this music class was black, who was likely the only one, and therefore one more than there was at the time at Binghamton Central HS.

We sat and talked and answered questions, and the session seemingly did what it was intended to do, i.e., to let the Vestal kids get to know us as people. This was neither the first nor the last time my sister and I were involved in such an ambassadorship.

What was most interesting to me, though, is that they had put out an album of music, pressed onto vinyl. It was mostly classical and public domain folk tunes. The cover, though, was blank. they gave us each a copy and I remember coloring it with a bunch of geometric designs. And while I’m not sure I still have my copy, my sister definitely has hers.

One of the songs on the album was Hallelujah from Christ on the Mount of Olives by Beethoven, and it was amazingly competent for 12- and 13-year-olds. I thought of that today because it’s one of the songs we are performing for Easter this morning.

Here are a few versions:
Piano and choir
With orchestra- soft (crank it up!)
With orchestra
Solo organ
More like we’ll sound like

 

MIRACLES post

went home, never heard from any of those people again, and this event had almost no long-term impact on my life.

Copyright 2006 by Sidney Harris

Have you ever experienced something that no rational explanation can describe? I did once.

I was living in Schenectady near Albany in the spring of 1978, and I asked out this amazingly beautiful young woman who worked at Albany Savings Bank; at least one parent was from Brazil. Her response was that I could go to church with her sometime.

So one Sunday afternoon, she and some friends picked me up and took me to a church in Troy, a really eclectic group of congregants.

At some point in this LONG service, the pastor went around and asked each person if they had been saved by the blood of Jesus Christ. Though I had had a “saved” experience when I was nine, I was in my theologically doubting period, so I didn’t raise my hand.

After this, the folks converged on us unwashed folks. We went to the altar, and they began chanting GEEEE-ZUS GEEEE-ZUS. And in a relatively short time, I was talking in a language I did not understand; apparently, I was speaking in tongues! And they gave me some clothes to change into so that I could have a full-emersion baptism downstairs.

I went home, never heard from any of those people again, and this event had almost no long-term impact on my life.

So do you have any events in your life you cannot explain?

***

The Miracles－Love Machine

 

Blame/Guilt in the Liturgy

Damn thing tears me up every time. EVERY TIME.

When I was growing up in the AME Zion church, there was a part of the liturgy called the Prayer of Humble Access, which we said every time we had communion; in our church, that was the first Sunday of the month. The prayer has long Anglican roots; the 1662 revision, which is at least a century after the original, reads: We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy: Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body, and our souls washed through his most precious blood, and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen. I have to say that that line about the crumbs under the Table always bothered me as a child. It’s supposed to be a humble prayer, not a groveling one.

Conversely, there’s a good Lenten hymn called Ah, Holy Jesus. The second verse: Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon thee? Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone thee! ‘Twas I, Lord Jesus, I was denied thee; I crucified thee. Damn thing tears me up every time. EVERY TIME. I have to wonder if it’s the music that makes it more moving for me, whereas I find the prayer pedantic.

Probably. We do a lot of music in our current service, such as the psalter, and while I’m quite fond of it, at least one woman in the congregation finds it stressful because she’s trying to get it right.

 

EARTH DAY Question

Not only are we going to be saving money during the heating and cooling seasons, but we are getting a federal tax refund that is over $1000 larger than it would have been had we not spent the few thousand dollars to insulate.

Far from my naivete on the first Earth Day 41 years ago, I realize that we have to make some substantial changes if we are going to keep old Mother Earth healthy. Sure there are the BIG issues of industrial pollution and the like to address. But I also find it necessary to look in the mirror to see what I’M doing.

By far, the most significant thing that we’ve done is getting our attic insulated. I should note that we were motivated in no small part by a tax advantage that was available in 2010 but unfortunately is no longer the case. Not only are we going to be saving money during the heating and cooling seasons, but we are getting a federal tax refund that is over $1000 larger than it would have been had we not spent the few thousand dollars to insulate.

We’re still doing the compost thing.

Living where we do, we can walk to the daughter’s school, the post office (which will probably close due to budget cuts), an Indian restaurant, a pizzeria, a pharmacy/drug store, a movie theater, and a supermarket. No small thing, I suppose. Other places are at a bikeable distance or on the bus line, and there are at least four bus routes within a block of my house.

So what are you doing, or want to be doing, to help on Earth Day?

 

Monday Thursday

It’s like splurging on a big wedding, and the groom doesn’t show up.

When I was a child, I never understood the idea of Monday being on a Thursday. I mean, I knew it was a tough week for Jesus, and would only get worse. But why Monday? Oh wait, I have late word that it is actually Maundy Thursday, which may be derived “from the Latin mandatum, the first word of the phrase ‘Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos’ (“A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you”), the statement by Jesus in the Gospel of John (13:34) by which Jesus explained to the Apostles the significance of his action of washing their feet.” Or not.

I had commented on someone’s blog recently, and I mentioned a pastor that I used to have in the past decade. My observation about him, indeed his own casting of himself, made him more of a Lenten person than an Easter person. Goodness knows I love good, depressing Lenten music, for instance, as much as anyone. But if someone is stuck there, it’s like — my goodness, I just thought of a probably inappropriate analogy!

OK, it’s like splurging on a big wedding, and the groom doesn’t show up. I was thinking of that because a number of church hymns use this somewhat odd imagery of Christ as the bridegroom and the church as the bride. I get it, but still, find it a bit peculiar, and I’d think it might be off-putting to some.

Musicians and choirs involved with churches often call this “hell week” because of all the extra services. I’m fairly tired myself, so that’ll be it for today.

Ramblin' with Roger
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