For T: Soli Deo Gloria

What an absolutely wonderful weekend this is turning out to be -- wonderful and heartwrenching.  This weekend, in my church family, is all about T.  


This weekend we celebrate Thomas Coker's 25 years in ministry at South Main Baptist Church and 50 years in ministry.  That is the wonderfulness of it all.  Then he retires.  That is the heartwrenching part.  


The celebration has been true to South Main's longstanding tradition of doing things well, in excellence, decently  and in order.  Earlier this afternoon we had a concert featuring just about all of our music ministry, and including participation by returning "alumni."  What a joyous time we had.  The music in all respects was top notch, from our kindergarten group to, well, our more seasoned members.  


Let's digress for a moment, for just a little "TC" background:  Thomas has pursued an excellence in music at South Main Baptist that sets our music ministry apart from what people normally expect of a church choir.  We have done (and done well) sacred works like King David, Elijah, Messiah, Requiem (Brahms & Rutter), Mass in G (V. Williams) and more; and we have done (and, again, done well) Broadway shows, including Hello Dolly, The Wizard of Oz, Man of LaMancha, Into the Woods, and even more.  It is difficult for someone who thinks she has a decently-rounded background to be hit in the face with "stuff I've never even thought about doing."  He has had to drag this writer out of her box, sometimes kicking and screaming.  Often inwardly questioning his song selection, she was reminded of telling the choirs she directed, It's not about what you want or even like, it's about helping worshipers make a connection to God, reinforcing the theme of worship through music.  Being whipped by the sermon she had so often preached to others, she had to swallow hard, dig in, and yield to T's directions.  In learning that song, whichever one, she learned to love what she had previously professed to loathe.


Near the end of the concert, Pastor Steve Wells asked us to show our appreciation for Thomas, and there erupted a standing ovation like none I had ever witnessed!  Thomas, in the style of a true minister, would not, could not take a bow.  Obviously moved by this outpouring of  love and appreciation, he stood with right hand over heart.  It seemed that he may have even been a bit uncomfortable by the demonstration.  At one point he raised his hands, both index fingers pointing upward.  Had we been at a baseball, football or basketball game, the raised fingers would most likely be followed by a chant:  WE'RE NUMBER ONE!  WE'RE NUMBER ONE!  


Not so in the instant case.  When I saw the ascending fingers, I knew instantaneously Thomas was thinking soli deo gloria -- to God alone be the glory.   Soli deo gloria has been T's tagline since before I knew him.  And from my observations, it is the way he has lived his life of ministry.  Time and again, whether Bach to Broadway or King David or Elijah or My Eternal King -- going over and over . . .  and over and over . . . and over . . . whatever section of music, pesky phrase, or that single vowel that is just not right . . . over and over . . . it was not about getting it just right to justify it being dubbed excellent, but getting in just right to give glory and honor to God by giving Him our very best.  


T's got things in proper perspective:  God gave us His very best, and we should give Him no less.


Thank you, Thomas, for knowing, and showing the real importance of music ministry done well.


Soli deo gloria. 
To God -- and God alone -- be the glory.

For Daryl: I REFUSE to Say Goodbye!

Tomorrow is a special day at South Main Baptist Church.  We have been blessed -- and spoiled -- by this wonderful young man who has enriched our worship, and for those of us who had the opportunity to commune with him, our lives in other ways as well.  To say he is a joy to work with, and under, sounds understated and trite.

When playing the organ or directing our choirs (voice or handbells)  he is fiercely focused, concentrated and intentional, with a commanding presence that says "stay with me now, work with me here" without being brash, harsh, or overbearing.  When communing with him he is sweet, personable and funny, with a smile that makes me want to call him "son."

He makes the organ an extension of himself -- or is it the other way around?  And he is one of the few musicians I know who flawlessly transitions from organ to piano.  (For me, the only thing these two instruments have in common is the keyboard.  Most folks think if you can play one you can play the other; the truth is that just isn't true!)

When Daryl came to South Main Baptist in 2003, he was already an awesome talent.  We have had the privilege of watching him grow.  He has a knack for choosing music for worship that is appropriate, thought provoking, and soul-stirring.  Despite his mastery at the pipe organ, one song I will remember for years to come was his piano prelude "I Gave My Life for Thee."  I have never heard anything quite so moving.

Daryl's interpretive abilities are second to none.  I will not forget that he came to me and asked for "pointers" on playing gospel music during the time we were preparing to celebrate South Main's 100th birthday.  We spent a few minutes in the sanctuary working on gospel music nuances.  I remember saying "That's it!  You got it!"  He replied, "but I don't feel it yet."   But he really did get it!  He later played works of my very favorite 20th century composer, the late Glenn Edward Burleigh, who was a classically trained and phenomenal pianist.  Glenn had a way of integrated all genres of music into his compositions which, still, give his music a unique style and sound -- NOT the stereotypical three-chord ditties many automatically dub as "gospel music."  When Daryl plays Burleigh, it is as if Glenn himself is sitting at the piano.

So what does all that have to do with tomorrow being a special day at South Main Baptist Church?  Well, it is Daryl's last day as our organist and music associate.  Even while we are happy for his taking the next step in his music ministry career, I cannot help but nurse my aching heart.   So, I will not say "goodbye," Daryl, just "see you later."  And, indeed, I shall.

Remembering Glenn Edward Burleigh

Since finishing Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, a mammoth work comprised of more than 40 CDs, the time spent in my Jeep (which is more than I care to think of) has been made bearable by some odd music CDs -- a mixed bag including Il Divo, Rodrigo, Shirley Ceasar, Frank Sinatra & Quincy Jones, Michael Bolton, the Chicago soundtrack, Mozart's 41st Symphony (I don't know what orchestra or conductor, nor do I care to know) and Part II of Glenn Edward Burleigh's Christmas cantata, Born to Die. I listed Bureligh's recording last because once I reached that one I have continually pressed its disc number to restart it from the beginning once it has played through. And one must dispell the notion that Born to Die is fraught with songs of tinkling bells, hay rides, snow and other such nonsense. Born to Die is pure Gospel -- Good News -- about the coming of Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah, the Savior of the world. Born to Die tells not just the who -- the story of the birth of Jesus -- but the how and the why -- the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus so that the world might be saved. [see John 3:16-17, The Holy Bible]

For those of you who are not familiar with Burleigh's music, his lyrics are well grounded in the Holy Bible, sometimes verbatim (depending on the translation), and his writing style is all over the musical spectrum. While he may be best known as the composer of Order of My Steps, a traditional gospel song, Burleigh's musical compositions are infused with many different genres. He was classically trained in music and reborn of the Holy Spirit. That is a tremendous combination! Some people are of the school of thought that there is a tedious sameness about music of the faithful. Not so. Hymns and anthems are dull and plodding, old and stale, only if one refuses to see that the words give them new life whenever sung by those who understand and appreciate their meaning. While this writer believes there is no tedious sameness to the music of the faithful, she recognizes well that only very infrequently someone like Burleigh comes along, sharing his faith through his fingertips in a way that is foreign to most. (That is, because folks tend to expect the dull, plodding, old, stale, and tedious sameness ad nauseum, of "church" music.) In fact, she knows of only one other, whose musicianship she has experienced from a performance perspective, but has yet to experience his compositions or arrangements. Perhaps one day . . . but for now, back to Burleigh.

I first experienced Glenn's music when he was the Minister of Music at Good Hope Baptist Church here in Houston, Texas. That was a couple of decades (and then some) ago, as my very much now grown up daughter was just a child. While we had never met, I remember approaching him after a concert at Good Hope and telling him that his music is timeless and I believe it will be sung for decades and decades to come. Several years later it was my blessed pleasure to meet him face-to-face and work with him on his music catalog. After he left Houston we stayed in touch, though infrequently. That was okay, because his music was always near. Picking up a familiar piece of Burleigh's music was like picking up a telephone for a brief conversation with him. Picking up a new piece of Burleigh's music was like learning something new about him. In that way, even though I spoke with him only occasionally, saw him perhaps once or twice a year when he came to Houston, and exchanged emails now and then, he was as near as sitting at a piano and playing one of his songs, or just singing one, even in my head, only to be heard by me and my God.

And God is a fitting subject on which to end this writing. For it is not so much Glenn Burleigh as it was his willingness to empty himself and allow the Spirit of God to fill him in such a way as to express and live out his faith through his music, touching countless lives, even those who know not that the music is of his hand, from his mind and heart, and even those who are yet to hear it.

Thank You, God, for Your unmerited favor that manifested itself in the life of Glenn Edward Burleigh and Your gift to us through him -- music for now and years to come.

Into the Woods

Every year my church's music ministry does a summer musical production one weekend in August. We call it "Bach to Broadway." It started in our Fellowship Hall (long before my time) on a small stage and subsequently moved to the Activities Building on our campus with a larger stage, props, and the whole package. A relative newcomer (this is just my sixth year at South Main Baptist Church in Houston, Texas), I have not seen many, but the ones I have experienced have been top-notch productions, including Man of La Mancha, Hello Dolly, and The Sound of Music. This year's offering, the 20th, Into the Woods, is no exception. In this work, Stephen Sondheim weaves a tapestry of fairy tales -- Cinderella, Jack and the Beanstalk, Little Red Riding Hood and Rapunzel, sprinkles in some notable mentions (Snow White and Sleeping Beauty), and uses that foundation for the story of a baker and his wife who want to start a family. And, of course, there is a witch. There's always a witch.

What is so blessedly amazing is how easily one can be caught up in the moment of this artistic work, and the spirit of authenticity the cast of 31 brings to the stage. Yes, Into the Woods is about fairy tales. The Woods, for this writer, symbolized a place of refuge, assistance, turmoil and transformation. It seems that when one goes into the woods, one emerges as not quite the same person as before. And there are lessons to be learned from Into the Woods. What makes it possible to hear and see those messages is not being distracted by self-centered, indifferent or negative spirits. The members of the cast, even those who never uttered a word, gave themselves over to their characters, and brought me into their story. I felt the dismay of the baker and his wife who wanted a child. I saw the ends to which the baker's wife would go to get what they needed to break the witch's spell. (Not unlike the way we excuse unethical, immoral and treacherous behavior -- you know -- the end justifies the means. Not!) I saw the straying eyes of the two princes as they forsook their respective wives in search of something/someone different. Now, that's really hitting home, don't you think? I saw a crowd willing to sacrifice the life of another -- in order to save their on skin.

Being a fan of performing arts (especially opera) for decades, I am most appreciative of live performances. While the seating in Jones Hall and the Wortham Theater Center in Houston may be cushier and more comfortable, I cannot say that the performances are any better. (And the refreshments at intermission cannot hold a candle to our cookies, cupcakes, fresh fruit and punches, whether from the perspective of price and quality [free and fresh at SMBC].)

How dare I compare my church's musical offerings to that of professional performances? Like this: They may build bigger sets, but that's about it.