I didn't find out until this morning that the couple in charge of parish music is out of town today, and that they wanted me to play bass for their sub. Their sub is one of the best musicians in our parish, and I have kind of a complex about her.
If you performed as a kid, ever at all in any context, you doubtless encountered the pecking-order performers -- the kids who wanted you to know that they were better than you. Or maybe they weren't better than you themselves, but had you noticed that Rhonda was definitely better than you? Maybe in your choir/band/theater troupe/dance class the pecking-order performers were tripping over themselves to tell you that Rhonda had done an especially awesome job with her moment in the spotlight. I remember having to say very firmly to my teenaged self: Talent is not a zero-sum game. Your voice is not worse because hers is beautiful.
This particular musician at my parish brings up many memories, many many memories, of days when I spoke firmly to my teenaged self. In general the culture in our music ministry is the very opposite of a pecking-order culture. It's one of my favorite things about the ministry, actually, the way that the directors balance the need for technical skill with the joy of making music for the glory of God.
That particular joy has been feeding my soul in these uncertain weeks. The world is on fire, COVID-19 cases are exploding, the president is displaying troubling authoritarian tendencies. But for 45 minutes on Saturday afternoons I can sit next to the giant amp with my bass and create a gently percussive musical floor for my musician friends, as the eternal word of God is proclaimed and the people of my parish receive our faithful God in holy communion. This is not what I thought August would look like six months ago, or even three months ago, but the Mass remains an undeserved gift and comfort and also there is something deeply right about a I-IV-V chord progression. I was created to perceive beauty, and to learn to create beauty, in order that I might know more fully the Source of all beauty. In the midst of the unknown, beauty is a powerful solace.
I thought about canceling when I saw the schedule for today, but instead I showed up with my bass. To my surprise, the lead musician showed up late and a little frazzled, and in need of a quick check-in. I had asked Elwood to pray over me before I left home, and in the car on the way to Mass I had said, "Okay, Jesus, I need some IMMEDIATE BRAINWEASEL HELP here." And do you know, the brainweasels were quiet, and the music went smoothly, and I felt prompted afterward to send off a little extra kindness via text.
Today was the feast of St. Alphonsus Liguori, who is one of my particular heavenly friends because he struggled so with scrupulosity. I ask him to pray for me when the NOT GOOD ENOUGH thoughts are getting me down. Maybe it's a little easier when I'm playing the bass than when I'm singing or playing the flute or guitar, because the psalmist's mandate to play "with all your skill" sets the bar pretty low: I haven't played the bass long enough to have much skill. Even so, I played those I-IV-Vs (with some occasional IIs and VIs thrown in) to the best of my ability.
And I have to say: I'm glad I didn't cancel.
Recent Comments