There is "The" God

Early this afternoon Daryl Robinson stirred hearts with an eclectic and thoughtful mix of music as only he can deliver via his primary instrument -- pipe organ.  His recital was the first in a series called "First Fridays" co-sponsored by the Sacred Heart Co-Cathedral and the University of Houston's school of music.  

The Co-Cathedral’s structure at 1111 St. Joseph Parkway is relatively new.  During its construction it was frequently highlighted by various media as the building took shape and trappings and furnishings of every secularly-dubbed sacred kind and character were brought in to adorn the place with just the right marble, just the right statuary, just the right stained glass, blah, blah, blah.  It is indeed a magnificent structure, and a haven on the south end of downtown Houston – a place that I dread frequenting because of the traffic, noise, unfriendly parking (especially if one needs an accessible [politically correct word for handicapped space]), and especially the all-too-often unfriendly, self-possessed, self-absorbed people.  I had never visited the Co-Cathedral.  I am not Catholic and have never thought of worshiping there, and I do not see it as an attraction to tour – like going to the Museum of Fine Arts (no offense to the folks who have done this).  

As the sanctuary emptied of folks who attended the 12:10 mass, those of us who came for the recital joined those who chose to stay after the mass.  I took a seat about midway -- just a few feet from what appeared to be a small, very still pool of water in a raised marble platform (which I assumed to be part of the trappings of some Catholic ritual).  The organ, it turns out, is not in a place of prominence in the front, but in the choir loft above the main entrance in the back of the sanctuary. 

Without a word, Daryl began playing at the appointed time.  Some folks turned around to see Daryl – as much as could be seen of a man of medium height sitting at the instrument ensconced in the southeast corner of the loft.  Actually, it is hard to blame them for wanting to see.  The stuff that  Daryl executes with precision, excellence and grace, is sometimes difficult for one to actually believe comes from only 10 fingers and two feet.  As the sound of the organ filled the room I sat still and closed my eyes.  My first and continuing thought was only God could make something like this happen.  

Some will ask what’s God got to do with it?  Well, ask away!  And I am happy to answer:

• God made the dirt from which He created humankind.
• God gave humankind the thoughts, dreams, will, desire and ability to design great houses of worship – even knowing that our worship will not always be in spirit and truth (and that subject will be put aside for another time).
• God gave some the technology to make what others conceived in their minds, possible to construct.
• God gave others the skills and physical stamina to do the work to make the concept as outlined on paper and electronics, tangible.
• God stirred the hearts of others to make the financial commitments that brought all of the other elements together for the finished project -- even if they did it for the tax deduction or publicity.
• God created music.  Those 12 half-tones and the infinite ways in which they have been combined for millennia have done more to soothe the hearts, minds and souls of people all over the world, and even draw people of diverse nations, ethnicities, cultures and beliefs together on common ground, even in war, than anything else and anyone else other than Jesus, the Christ Himself, the Son of the Living, Almighty God.  
• And God brought Mr. & Mrs. Robinson together; they had a son and named him Daryl.   And for most of his young life, Daryl has embraced the art and honed his skills of making beautiful music.

Daryl’s Bach piece so moved one man that at its end he emitted an involuntary, audible cry, shaking me from my solitude (yes, it was as if I was alone in that huge room, enveloped in the music of the Almighty via Daryl’s hands).  I didn't recognize the man who could barely contain himself – or so I observed  – through my own tears.  

Daryl's mastery of the pipe organ is absolutely phenomenal.  Most folks with a degree of talent even approaching that which Daryl possesses would be so stuck on themselves they wouldn't even be approachable.  I am proud and pleased to call him son -- sweetie  -- dear or whatever comes to mind -- and that regardless of how I tag him for the moment, he responds with understanding that my labels are just an expression of my affection for him, and by extension, our God who made everything possible, creating us out of love.

A suggestion to any who is in doubt about God being behind all of this:  get your own dirt and do your own thing.

May the peace of God be with you always; may His goodness and mercy ever follow you. 

Elitism Everywhere

One has not begun to appreciate the choral repertoire until one is familiar with Palestrina.


This smug little response was made to the question "What are your favorite choral works to sing" posted on Facebook questions.  The response is elitist, exclusive, divisive, and just downright snotty -- reeking of a strong implication that the appreciation of choral music which excludes certain choral works could not possibly be "appreciation."   


Being one whose musical style has been described as "too white for black" and "too black for white," this writer is content to straddle the fence and land on either side in comfort.   Sometime ago, many evenings were spent jumping from one side of the fence to the other:  first to Sleepy Hollow, a restaurant/piano bar in Town & Country Village in Houston, sitting in for Russ White, the consummate all-around pianist.  When Russ took his breaks, Andrea would play and sometimes sing old standards like I Left My Heart in San Francisco and My Funny Valentine.  Then she would zip across town to the Wunderbar on Southmore in the Third Ward area and end the night listening to Iola Broussard belt out jazz and blues standards.   Other evenings were spent, spellbound, at the opera or symphony.  And then -- on Sunday morning -- generally multiple worship services incorporating all genres of religious music, from songs based on African melodies (the harmonies for which were nonexistent -- and damn the musician who would tried to create them!), to incredible hymns, the compositions of which were paid for with life's experiences, to soul-stirring gospel, to centuries old anthems that made one's heart soar to the heavens.  With such musical wealth, how can one have "A" favorite?  Is there one and only one way to touch one's heart?  If so, what a tiny heart one must have!  


So, what has this to do with elitism everywhere?  Simply this:  a narrow scope of any one area can be indicative of a narrow scope of the big picture.  True, everyone is entitled to one's own opinions and preferences.  Still, how far does one go with that?  


Try this:  One has only begun to appreciate automobiles until one is familiar with the Koeniggsegg Trevita, which, at $2.21 million (according to Forbes) is the world's most expensive car.  


Just curious:  What about the automobile that is right for you?   That you can afford?  That serves you well?  


Or, try this:  One has only begun to appreciate flowers until one is familiar with Cannas or Calla Lilys.


Just curious:  What about those daisies your child or spouse picked out of the front yard and brought to you in a mason jar?


Or, try this:  One has only begun to appreciate beauty until one is familiar with Julia Roberts, Kim Kardashian, Katy Perry, . . . ????


Just curious:   Who is truly beautiful to you?  Is he/she someone with the right look on the outside? Is that all that matters?  If so, what happens when the look fades?  What about the person behind the look?


Now, try this:  One has only begun to appreciate -- freedom -- education -- others -- until one is familiar with --- ????


So, what does it for you?   Is your appreciation of freedom based on your having rights that others do not enjoy?  Is your appreciation of education exclusive to you and yours, or something to which all should have access?  Is your appreciation of others based on whether or not they look, act, speak and think like you?  


Or can you appreciate that while we may be 99% alike, the 1% that makes us different from each other is the special something that God put in each us for the sake of variety and diversity -- to expound on the miracle of His creation?  Is there but one type of fruit?  Flower?   Dog?   Bird?   Man?   Woman?  Culture?  Absolutely not!


The differences in all of us make elitism in any realm a smear on the big picture of creation, and an absolute slap in the face of the Creator.


How dare any of us -- what right have any of us -- to slap the face of the Creator?