I was feeling very grateful and looked in my library for some references to that word.
“If the only prayer we say in our lifetime is ‘Thank you’ that would suffice” Meister Edkhart
“It puts everything into it’s proper place and perspective Rebbe Nachman
“Taking things with gratitude and not taking things for granted” G. K. Cthesterton
“God is the source of all good, so we must thank Him for it.” Shashiko Mirata
“It’s the breath in our lungs so we pour out our praise to You only” Ingrahm,, Leonard & Jordan(Authors of ”Great are you Lord ‘)
“A good time is a taste of God” John Auelio
Good and perfect advice I have found from these authors. You can look them up and I will tell you where to look if you ask me. (gatorjack75@gmail.com)
One of them is a Hasidic teacher, another a scholar of Islam. There is a Protestant preacher. A Catholic priest. A Suffi seer and poet and a famous British writer. This small compendium is just a start of the wisdom to be found throughout literature. I would earnestly urge reading and searching. This generation does not read in general. A lost art. Primary and secondary schools not long ago encouraged reading the classics.
It seems just recent authors are taught, many of them with political or radical thoughts. Mathematics still depends on scholars of Greece to which we can say thank you to. One of them figured out how to measure the great pyramid by his shadow without a laser sight or a spotting scope! There is brilliance and mystery available in dusty old books. Seek them out, most if not all of them are hardbound. I look in free book kiosks. (I found one on classic Russian authors!) The kiosks resemble nice bird houses.
A great Islam scholar stated that God is the source of all good, so we must thank Him for it
I was once admonished for writing about religion as a columnist and only focusing on the Bible. Recently I have found wisdom from all sources of faith. Why do we say ‘thank you’ many times a day? It’s Life 101 and we all have learned that, even our pets thank us for kindness. We usually don’t purr or lick ears to express gratitude. At least most of us. Our family has ways of doing these things and it’s our deal.
Excitement and pleasure are found in many places. “Hell is excited about your arrival” A quote from C.S. Lewis’ great divorce It’s difficult for me to comprehend my favorite author acknowledging the devil as having any sort of pleasure but what do I know about these things?
As the old paper boys would shout “Read all about it!” It’s pretty good, Norm / Jack
We have all seen the signs at church’s on our drives. Worship at 10. What is that really? How can a church service be also called worship? It would that worship is the most important thing to be conveyed to people driving by, looking for a convenient time to pop in. We know there is teaching or a sermon of some kind. Is that worship? Or is worship singing, music of some kind! Pianos or an organ played by the professional keyboardists?
Memories of a pastor up on the stage, waving his arms, conducting the off key choir of my sister and myself. There, on the solid-tombstone-like sign out by the road, is an announcement of Sunday school. The memories of stiff, starchy shirts and one-day a week shiny black shoes and a suit coat also worn once a week.
Children’s thoughts of school on one of only two days off from ‘regular school’ Incomprehensible words and recitation of forgotten things we were supposed to study quickly on Saturday evening so we looked and sounded perfect. The old flannel graph with cloth cutouts of sheep, shepherds, and Goliath. I did not enjoy Sundays when I was very young.
It was Usually hot in summer and winter and in a basement room with other kids, rolling their eyes at the teacher when she wasn’t looking. The bright side was dinner out at Hart’s with the baked chicken that my Grandpa liked too! The chicken was worth the trip. My only excuse these days for not having a grip on what was being poured into me was the rule we had to be in Sunday school until we were 21. Then we were welcomed into the main church building on the other side of the parking lot.
Now I see what I had not seen in my childhood. Beauty and sermons that take your breath away with the truth of them. The music has the same words. Now with Electric guitars., drums and sound systems that actually work. There is good coffee in the lobby and our friends are there too. There is an eagerness to be with people to experience the Lord and His words. Love letters, scripture. I sing the notes I hear, always have heard. Sometimes I sing Harmonies which can puzzle nearby worshipers. I can tell and so I get back onto the main octave and notes. It’s fun for me to sing loud because the music is loud too.
Not long ago I was joined to a Christ centered music team that sang love songs to the Lord. We traveled a lot and sang at many houses of prayer in Minnesota and Wisconsin. We even had the grace given to sing at Times Square Church in New York City. There was no one else in there but the janitor who let us in. I like to impress people when I mention that event till it comes down to the empty church bit. None of them are empty though are they?
That music starts a life of its own and a path opens up. And so goes the romance of all loves. The love that lasts. The sound of the best sunset you can ever remember. A realization that nothing else even comes near.
How it feels to touch the heart of eternity. Waiting with hushed voices at times, glancing side to side to see that Man that is there. The Man with fire in His eyes. Musicians and scholars seeing for the first time the bridegroom. The singers sing and the scholars dig into old languages, seeking the reason for this romance. The focus. The looking glass of a telescope fixed on light that is impossibly old.
On our side of eternity it seems like the flame on a guttering candle. No one can see what you can see, no one can sing what you can sing. There is no one like Him so open up your eyes and see. Getting to the place where our souls can rest while the fires are banked and steam is rising. A sharp intake of breath. Astonishment and once again time starts anew. The worship, akin to David’s worship in the wilderness or the 40 years of Israel in the desert.
Quite a few times at the end of a session of several hours there is hushed singing with no instruments. The team can hear others from the room also softly singing. They finally stop and there is a feeling that comes to that you can’t lie down and you can’t stand. Absolute silence in the room that is radiating Jesus’s presence. Stunning joy with some tears. People are baptized with John’s water and the Word must be baptized with fire to go into our hearts. A blazing bush drew Moses and a blazing church will draw the world. Music and the truth of scripture are the kindling and you are the fuel that responds to the flames of love coming forth.
“Every poet and musician and artist, except for Grace, is drawn away from the love of the thing he tells, to the love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him.” a.
They are almost invisible, very much so on a web stream broadcast. They move about, trailing thick expensive cables back and forth in their wakes. Appearing to be special force units with communication gear attached to their heads. Obviously someone is telling them what to do and where to go, but what is it they are doing? There are more of them than you can easily see.
Before the service there is a ‘huddle’ at ‘front of house’ (control booth in the sanctuary that controls sound and lights) We gather and share, musicians and techs to solidify and encourage one another. Of course, there is prayer from the worship band leader. It is a very important bonding for those who do their best at presenting Jesus Christ in song to the audience. It is not an opera or a performance. It is a privilege to do so. There is pay for some that work 5 days or so a week setting and rehearsing it all. The camera operators and some techs are volunteers. The best pay for all of us is His presence.
Trolley cameras run on tracks and do those smooth side to side shots just above the audience view. It really helps those watching engage in the worship. There are separate grips at the ends of the track to stop it and push it. That grip job is an excellent class on momentum and velocity. Hand held (often on one’s shoulder) move around and can catch momentary shots of the musicians or their instruments. The director instructs operators where to look, sometimes at the audience that are engaging and worshiping.
Big ‘Jib’ cameras with large booms and complex controls do those impossible flying shots but can focus closely on a keyboard. Those cameras have ‘fences’ around them to prevent people from being hit by the wide range of movement by the operator. Complex camera operation.
Tripod cameras are elevated on platforms and are a real asset too. Sometimes there are remote cameras that are run with a joystick by the director or switcher. They can zoom in and out and swivel. It’s all a’ bit more complex’ compared to the usual cameras we use in our cell phones. It is always distracting when people hold their cell phones up to capture a performance. I wonder if they are really engaged with what is going on before them. A small 8 millimeter would not be quite so intrusive but of course, as a technical dinosaur I have opinions on progress and regress.
Leave video tasks up to the men in black. They have time afterwards to be moved by the totality of the production. A review in the room of a recent set shows the crew how to improve the experience for the viewers so there is nothing seen or felt besides the worship. Working on video production is a thing that can distract from the reasons they are there in the first place. They help Convey story, and the story of Jesus beauty can often be accompanied by tears and spiritual engagement to the audiences. There are ‘huddles’ before every service at ‘front of house’ (control of sound and lights) In the sanctuary to encourage and bond production teams. Prayer is essential at those times as well. Almost akin to the ready room in the military.
Hand held, Jib, tripods all have their positions and are numbered through the comms everyone has. Those Cameras are heavy and very complex. There is a director in touch with them and exact instructions are given as to what to capture, how close and the next shot to prepare for. It’s a choreographed dance. A lot of training and experience for both sides of the production. There are ‘grips’ that make certain the camera operators do not trip nor step on the fiber optic cables that send the video feed, in the control room there are aperture operators that control iris settings, lyrics panels that are just for the screens to show words. It’s fast and fascinating to listen to. Timing and broadcast (simulcast) adds to the complexity.
As with many technical occupations, there is shorthand and acronyms. ME mixed effects, SHADER is a control panel that adjusts camera aperture, MI, musical interlude, Load the band, CP campus Pastor, PUSH go closer with the camera control. I like ABLETON controlled by the drummer to add a CLICK track to the other musicians which sounds a click in the IEM’s they wear to keep everyone on beat (IEM is an in ear monitor) This is a beginning list and at first sounds like another language which it is.
So many sounds bouncing around that must be accounted for and the volumes are carefully set. There is a handheld unit that measures that as a sound tech walks through the room during rehearsal. ( It’s called an SPL sound level pressure.) It’s all highly technical. The control rooms and electronics remind you of Houston’s launch control for spacecraft. Blinking lights and fast button pushing and many screens for each person. Of course, the only sign of failure is an audience confused and the sound booth failure joke is; An audience looking backwards towards the the booth. They know who is screwing up.
The main reason the camera folks are dressed in black is to not be visible on the video feed. The camera iris is quickly set for different light situations and most of the people on the stage are dressed in lighter colors. The lights show those video shots so they can be seen by the viewers. As a result, black does not bounce back (it absorbs light). You can see them if you look for them but it isn’t a distraction on the whole. The lighting is another job that works with the director.
The audio for broadcast is another technical job. That audio engineer that controls the ‘in house’ experience. You can only imagine the electronics, cabling, simulcast and internet connections to be set up and tested every day. One day events involve semi-trailers of equipment and adds a lot of work to those teams. At many churches, many of the team are volunteers and do not get paid for this work. They do it for the joy and camaraderie.
Another volunteer is a time traveler. The job is to be an assistant to the director. The music rehearsal is listened to a half dozen times before hand and the assistant director charts which instrument, and singers are in a certain part of the music. There are soft sections and loud crescendos. Then all that assistant has to do is tell the director and the camera operators which shot is the best depiction of the musicians. Before it happens. 4 bars beforehand, gives everyone time to literally focus on the next solo or high point (or ending soft or quickly) Stage lighting is a factor as well.
the director tells the camera operators what shot is indeed coming up and also when their shot is being broadcast to the screens in house. All the camera operators and other control people have headsets with microphones to help them be part of the dance. It’s beautiful and often breathtaking when it comes together.
The main campus that broadcasts throughout the world has the most precise and skilled media teams. It’s called ‘simulcast’ and if you watch on-line, that is the music you see.
The director sees all the camera shots on separate screens, selects and instructs movement and image constantly. “One push, ready 1, take 1, Four push right, take 4, Five push cymbals, take 5.” As fast as you can read this. Things speed and slow according to the songs. Verse, pre-chorus-chorus. bridge. The sound pushes up to emphasize the chorus as the room gets intense with singing praise to Jesus.
It’s not manipulation, It’s invisible and correct and if done right, no one watching is aware of the team doing this. It is energy, very much the same thing that broadcast and movie directing use. Tell the story and no one thinks about it that is watching. That is a good as it gets. The director gives a brief “great shot” over the comm line now and then and that is very well received. Augustine stated “teaching is essential, praise is sweetness but persuasion is victory”
There is a lot more to production. It’s fascinating and now you know why the team is called ‘the men in black.’ Not seen but essential. It has nothing to do with agent K and J.
“My own eyes are not enough for me. I will through those of others. Reality, even seen through the eyes of many is not enough. I will see what others have invented…literary experience heals the wound, without undermining the privilege of individuality. In reading great literature I become a thousand men and yet remain myself…I may be full of goodness and good sense but still inhabit a tiny world. If I was content to be only myself, and therefore less of a self, I am in prison.” a.
It’s pretty good, Norm Peterson / Jack Gator
picture courtesy of Bjorn Peterson, my son, at a One Thing Conferencewith a hand held camera.
It’s something that comes naturally, growing up locally or even relocating and adapting here.
You’ve used these phrases and everyone around you has such as: “how’d she go dis weekend? Ya get out and get anything?” or “ s’hat new boat easy to launch?” Didge yah go up nort to the lake wit da fam to da cabin or just chill and cook out?” “ Hews she goin? Ya look a little foofed.
It’s perfectly normal and not even noticed unless you are just up from Chicago. Relatives that own a new cabin just around our neighborhood up here. Wisconsin actually has more than ten thousand lakes and the traffic is astounding around weekends. Especially the three day ones on holidays that fall conveniently on Friday or Monday.
I count the out of state license plates just for conversation at interstate bridge highways and on this last three dayer there were a hundred vehicles in rows bumper to bumper separated by quarter mile gaps. Usual comments from us about drivers getting ahead on the double yellow by a few cars. I call it ping ponging. Rushing and getting a few seconds ahead game that we play with anxiety and some skill depending if you are quick enough and like to take chances
On the times I am passed by anxious drivers I hold my breath to avoid the inevitable unburned hydrocarbon emissions from catalytic converter overloads, especially from older Buick’s and pickups that do not display led taillights as new stuff. Oh well, we used to make a lot of money replacing those things and erasing the inevitable check engine lights from the mixture fails of over loaded oxygen sensors.
As I have quoted a few times from C.S. Lewis: “Rushing is not of the devil, it IS the devil” some writers capitalize devil, I don’t, he isn’t worth it, it’s not a ‘proper’ name.
Nowadays I pray after laughing when someone passes me and a quarter mile ahead turns off. Sometimes I count the seconds saved and that really generates humor and puzzlement.
Relax, soon we get to relax with the man who is more alive than any man has ever been. We can watch the universe unfold and drift away and still be alive with him.
“Eternity’s eternal song, is calling to me, calling me home.” Misty Edwards
There is a loss in our communities that seems like a gain! The texting phenomenon has made writing letters obsolete and to many, cheaper and faster. Pen and Ink started to loose ground when the typewriter was introduced. The expense of ink wells, and ink stains was replaced with typewriter ribbons and skill.
I learned to touch type in the military and I got fast. Electric typewriters and carbon paper worked well. With top secret letters there were no carbon copies allowed. Now there is a new skill, typing on the screen of a cell phone. I have not embraced typing with both thumbs while holding a phone. I am fascinated and irritated at our civilization that has become hunched over while walking or standing, holding ‘the phone’ and writing and reading letters of sorts. Texting along with fun emojis and video clips. How about a three pound Bakelite model? I remember our bag phone and of course, my hand held Amateur radio. The ham radio did not need a phone number to talk to someone. A call sign worked but many times the beginning message was; CQ anyone there?
What I am getting around to is the act of writing and reading. Sitting down quietly while doing so.
I love to write and these columns are much easier to type with Word Press as it checks my spelling and syntax as I type. I have a short term memory issue, often real short time when I am physically writing a word and leave off a letter and skip on to the next one. Leaving off a vowel for instance. I can see my mistake and the software catches it and shows it to me. But that is a byline for this column, I revere actual writing with pen or pencil and using a stamp and an envelope to have USPS deliver my letter.
The major point is keeping in touch, not speedily but with intent beyond the rush of our current lives. “Rushing in not from the devil, it Is the devil” I believe that impatience is included. C.S. Lewis
I have sent a few letters lately to some friends. Some of which I have not seen nor heard from in decades. Several of them have never been answered although I know they were received because they were not returned with address unknown or such postal information. Phone calls work too but we are usually in a rush and an unexpected phone call from a friend of years past is surprising and hard to respond to if you are driving or setting down to lunch in a cafe. I like re-reading and even have a manila envelope for personal letters. It’s good. Phone numbers are passe. There used to be a book called a phone directory. They were hanging by a chain in phone booths. The is no cell phone directory hanging there.
Is there someone you send letters to and wonder if they will ever answer? There is also a very important type of letter that is spoken in private! These letters are referred to as prayer. It’s just me and the Lord alone and I tell Him how things are going and ask questions and have requests too. If my heart is calm and I am speaking in truth and love, I know my prayer is being heard. Peaceful and knowing and feeling His presence.
Often it seems my prayers have not been answered. The way I wanted them to be. Healing, provision for me or someone else. There is also the conversion to faith of someone that I have known a long time or just met. Evangelism. God hears these requests and stretches out his mighty arm and strong right hand and fulfills that prayer. Instantly in many ways we do not see and is always a perfect response from Him. Prayer is essential for all of us. Letters to the lover of our souls.
Someone obviously prayed for me to reach out to Christ, years ago, decades. It happened just the way it was supposed to happen. Why did it take so long? I have no idea and there is no answer until I read the book about me that no one this side of eternity can read. As C.S. Lewis says: “Every chapter is better than the last one you read”
“What is truth?” An old question that goes back to Mars Hill in Greece. Also the original question in the garden. “Did god really say?” Also the question that Pilate asked Jesus a few thousand years back. Jesus did not answer as the Truth was standing right in front of Pilate.
He knew this question of all philosophers as an educated citizen of Rome. Pilate spoke and wrote in Greek, Latin and Hebrew. He wrote the sign above Jesus on the cross. In those 3 languages.A letter posted for all to see throughout history. ‘Jesus of Nazareth King of the Jews’ . Some of the locals disagreed and Pilate said what I have written stands.
The very gift of God will be all we need to keep sending those prayers/letters to him. I know so little of these things but I rely on that gift that gives me peace and confidence that my prayers are heard. Faith.
Do you ever wonder what happens when someone you know or someone you just met, says “I’ll pray about it” Do we follow through? I used to fudge it and forget the promise within a short period of time. Those four words were a dismissive phrase for me. Not anymore. I am growing up and taking responsibility for my life and the things I say and do. There is so little time left for me, and for you.
I was on an official Prayer team at a very large church that seats over 2000 people and we were told to stand in front of them just as the service had ended and with lanyards that said prayer, be available to anyone that came ahead. I loved it. Many times no one came, but the few that did are sharp in memory.
I had to be vetted and interviewed to be on that team and that is very correct to do so. You can surmise the interviews that took place. The teams prayed a lot and I learned how to do so from them.
I am now in production at that church, media, and I also love that. Presenting the songs to the room as messages of praise to the Lord right then and there. The professional musicians know that it is much more than having a good time or playing a good song. We all sing with them and we get to touch eternity.
As it is, so shall it always be. Music, an indescribable and fleeting thing. The string is plucked, the drum resonates, the bowed instrument plays one note that blesses the fleeting sound. One second it is there. An eternal second, there is no time involved and the resonance goes into eternity and the joy flows abounding within the players and listeners.
There are many things that liken to music, draftsmanship or painting the light. Again, the romance of the stunning scene to the love of creating the painting. Both the musician and the painter are vulnerable to elevation of self. We do not realize the breaking of our admiration of our talents and contributing one or two notes or a splash of sienna releases real joy and appreciative laughter of the hearing and seeing the Master of all of it.
Images of musicians with the anticipated music played on perfect instruments abound. Especially for ones that have felt the joy and dance with a word sung or a set of notes played. An image from Lewis: “If one could just read the score of that heavenly music, they would never be ill nor grow old.”
So many years, so many bands and sitting in with other bands. I was consumed with applause. For me. A brief smile from a waltzing couple as they swirled past the stage as I played Faded Love is still remembered. The pride of even placing in a fiddle contest would make me proud. Of myself. I am not as fast these days (As I edit this I am 80 years old) and actually, that helps. There were so many instrumentalists in my life and the attaining of blazing speed with difficult passages was the goal and passion of so many. Just listen to bluegrass sometime. The song is over before you can even remember the words. Nice music, don’t misinterpret my words here. Nice music and really nice people play bluegrass. There were, unfortunately, some artists that would overplay and smirk at my waltz’ or jazz. That is OK now, I know who was guiding my music in that instantaneous beauty.
Emulating Bob Wills and his stunningly beautiful waltz’ was my goal. I tried the classic Orange Blossom Special when playing the bar circuit. I would not play it until the third set when the patrons were drunk enough to enjoy my fiddling of that song. I did OK with it, even the double stop slides, but it was not brilliant as the original. Still, it brought hoops and yells and that satisfied my need of acceptance.
I went to playing in the church..not A church, but THE church was my now my wish. A little mandolin to fill in the missing notes that I hear in spirit. The mandolin is referred to as the violin’s ‘walking stick’. (The tuning is the same as the violin) my last worship leader mentioned when the really high notes of vibrato ring out, it made him laugh inside. Good description of joy in worship.
Third position on the mandolin is a LOT easier than on the fiddle. It has frets. Those incredible stratospheric violin passages are pretty swell if your fingers are doing OK and you spend every day in the practice room. Playing Since a person was young child helps. I am in awe and joy when I hear those players. I wonder what they are thinking and feeling during those concertos.
So I needed applause to feel wanted and accepted. Now there is joy in worship heard or played when everything makes a brief tapestry of beauty. Offered to Jesus with love and adoration. It’s the only thing that goes to another plane of experience for me now.
As it is, so shall it always be. Music, an indescribable and fleeting thing. The string is plucked, the drum resonates, the bowed instrument plays one note that blesses the fleeting sound. One second it is there. An eternal second, there is no time involved and the resonance goes into eternity and the joy flows abounding within the players and listeners. Nevertheless, beware!
” Every poet, musician and artist, but for grace, are drawn away from the love of the thing he tells, to love of the telling, till, down in deep hell, they cannot be interested in God at all, but only what they say about Him” C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce
Applause reflects how others in the room feel that too. It’s heart felt. The thing is, that I now know they are really applauding the beauty revealed of Jesus, the creator of worship music hearts and all things. It’s pretty good. Playing or listening, it’s all the same thrill of eternal music on that sea of flaming glass.
We were blessed indeed by grace to avoid the love of the telling when my family worshiped for four years alone in a house of prayer in a storefront on main street in our local town. We had all the sound system stuff and a drum cage too. There were chairs for anyone who wished to be there, but most of the time we were alone. It fostered intimacy with our Lord. When we left after the building was sold, we had a last set that lasted for hours and started it at 7:20 in the evening. After an obvious finishing song, we looked at the clock facing us and it was 7:20.
There it was, three sung notes that flooded memories and several dreams a few days later. The singer was featured as the closing song of a broadcast from Eagle Brook Church. It was Easter Sunday and I had seen the performance earlier in the week at my job at the Blaine campus.
At the Easter Sunday broadcast I was stunned by the song ‘Because He Lives’ sung at the closing. The woman singing was at a live performance I was at several years earlier. It was held at a new Eagle Brook campus in Downtown Minneapolis, close to Christmas. A Jazzy Christmas.
Eagle Brook church Minneapolis Campus
I was an usher at that time and I requested to pray for the music team and the production crew. I stated by telling them that this concert is the Magna Carta of one of the attending people maybe all of them! Looking upon these teams sitting in the seats in front of the stage I began to do a simple prayer that our Lord would guide them to shine out His glory to those people. Especially the ones that were going to be moved in their spirit for the first time in their lives.
After all, it was billed as Jazzy and that is a draw for a lot of music fans. And it was in the big city. It felt good and right to pray for them. At that time I was on the prayer team at the main campus in Lino lakes. Obviously, I love to pray. Anywhere, anytime Jesus tells me to do so.
At the end of that concert, I went up to the third floor balcony to see if the sound was as good as I expected it to be. I listened through the open door and an usher asked me if I would like to have a seat. I hesitated and he said there was one seat and I went in to see that seat. It was right where I sat before with a perfect view and a young woman scooted over so I sat at the very end of the pew that overlooked the whole room. The sound was magnificent and well done.
I was overcome with tears at one of the last songs as it was the song at another concert years before at a church near our home. (that I was reluctant to attend that night) that instantly sank into me at that time and I was convinced that Jesus created all things and me.Mary did you know is the song. “ Mary did you know those tiny hands flung the stars into the sky?” Yes I knew it was so. I always wondered how the universe came about. The big bang didn’t make sense. The song was spoken by one of the choir members and his face was directly facing me.
I have never been the same since. I understand now that is called a testimonial moment.
There I was at this Jazzy concert, years later, crying and holding my hands as high as I can, worshiping Jesus. The woman sitting next to me offered a Kleenex as she was weeping too. I got up to leave and thought I had caught her in my Pendelton shirt somehow and looked down to my left and she was holding my elbow. She said: “ My Father died on this date last year and I felt he was sitting next to me now” I did not know what to say and smiled and said “thank you!” as I left to help distribute hot cocoa to the crowd that was leaving.
I went down soon afterwards, the cocoa volunteers had everything under control, so I walked down to the stage as the crew was taking things down and I told the singers what had happened. Angie and T, just sat down on the stage, folded up in a way, and I thanked them for doing so well that night.
A few weeks later at the pre-service huddle at Lino Lakes, by Front of house booth I saw T there and again thanked her for her being there at the jazzy concert and singing that beautiful song. She said, “The whole concert was for you and what happened there” I did not know what to say. It was another moment I have never forgotten.
This year when I saw her sing at that simulcast I knew it was her. She had been through a lot of physical medical issues that were shown to us before that last song in a short video. I listened closely.
It was her. Those last three notes of the song she sang were almost similar in pitch and spirit as that concert three years ago. Operatic and powerful. I hardly moved off of my chair when the broadcast was over and the room began to mingle and talk. Chatting was impossible for me. Even afterwards when we all ate a wonderful prime rib dinner prepared by one of the members of that group, Dale, I could not speak. What would I say?
I dreamed about it that night and the next and decided to write this column. It’s a Very personal experience and tenderly unforgettable. One of the most significant things I have been gifted with by Jesus. His gifts are like that often, unexpected, perfect and beautiful.
We’ve all heard it before in some context; “ you’re so emotional!” My response now to that is
asking, What is wrong with that? We are reluctant to endorse or engage with emotion in many situations. Many psychobabble voices tell us to calm down, damp down our emotions and be calm and ‘clear headed’ I am not sure that is appropriate. I get emotional reading a book or listening to Beethoven’s beauty. Weeping with pleasure and letting my emotions release it.
I have recently been trained in helping people to engage with emotions presented by ‘performance’ in worship music. Live performance, seen on a screen. It’s the same way we watch and listen without knowing we do so. Our eyes are drawn to different things as we move through our lives. We watch and are engaged with our surroundings. Constantly scanning the roads for dangers or beauty. Looking at the dash gauges. We don’t just stare straight ahead, we move our heads and eyes to see the world passing by us.
I have been taught that those are the natural movements and as an example: When zooming in on a singer ( it’s called pushing in) we don’t do it fast. Unnatural, it causes a distraction. We change focus as we look near or far and that is controlled as well. We open or close our iris according to dim or bright reflections or light. That’s called shading. The excitement in video production is different angles and being shown changes and solos we miss if looking elsewhere.
There are also many facets to production that are not noticed but essential. Lighting with movement, color, focus and the use of ‘haze’ to show light beams which catch our eye and help us focus where the light is showing us. Sound, very important and very technical for music and speech. To hear everything clearly, the spectrum of frequencies and to not overpower but to enhance experiences. If the sound feedback happens with a loud hum or a singer overpowers other singers, the room full of people instinctively swivel their heads to the place they know this control is. It’s called a sound booth solo and sound booths are called ‘front of house’ (more media lingo)
It’s an art and if well done, not noticeable if done well, to a person watching or in the room during a live production. Movies are complex and a good example of these things too. You don’t even notice the technical camera work and perfect sound and dialogue that conveys a story. The story engages you and emotions below the surface, sometimes with excitement or tears.
What is our story? The real stuff, the romance between us and Christ. God the Father lifts His eternal baton, Jesus intercedes for our failures and the Holy Spirit whispers songs of Faith and love to us.
Emotion is a gift from God. I can only imagine Biblical descriptions that movies try to capture. The parting of the Red sea, burning bushes and the sea of glass mingled with fire. Do those things stir you? I have heard about production, “oh that’s done to get you emotional” Of course not. As the song says, I can only imagine being there and seeing these things. Ask Him when you show up at those Gates of Heaven. I believe He will be delighted to take you there and be one of those in the Cloud of Witness’. I will ask to help with the run through in the Holy Production for you if I get there first. You will be an operator and we can work together with a lot of help from the Producer and Director. Eternal Productions bring you the reality of all life.
It began in my childhood. A realization that there was something that delighted and puzzled. While playing on my sisters piano I began to tear up over the slow melody of the moonlight Sonata. Soon, after walking home alone, from grade school, the song was more important than lunch with Casey Jones and Roundhouse Rodney on the TV. It made the school go away. All of it. The forbidden room of his sisters was his at noon and life began anew. Sis’ lunch was at Junior high school and there was no chance of her discovering the invasion. After all, I was born exactly two months after D-Day and understood invasion. I never heard her play on that upright when I was home. She probably waited until I was not there.
A knowing of music is where it began and I still work in that genre. Hearing a song being played or sung for the first time and hearing it afterwards, sometimes audibly like a very soft echo. Recordings, live or remembered have the same effect. Usually the first two measures or so. I even hear the silly song that our new washing machine makes to tell us it is done till it fades!
It then began to occur in a way that an old friend, Judy Larsen, called it the “Twink” or being ‘on all the time’ I see what way the music is trending and also know which notes would fit in to enhance enjoyment and anyone playing or listening to the extra notes. I recently found a CD I was on, recorded in 1979 at the Grizzly Den in Osceola. It was a country swing band, Dandelion Wine. A lot of jazzy stuff and fiddle tunes that I used to play in contests. A few mistakes here and there, but it was pretty good. I also played fiddle with Dave Dudley, a local CW artist with his own bar, Dudley vile, during those times. I also began to want applause on the faces of the audience waltzing past the stage.
My family now is put off by some of the songs like ‘Gotta get drunk’ and ‘ Swinging doors and a jukebox, my new home has a flashing neon sign’ It paid the bills with double bookings that can still see be seen as faint penciled gig dates on the kitchen cabinet door frames that had the old black wall phone nearby. (Soft wood, #2 pencils.) that was before post it notes had been invented. (Early Eighties}
Sometimes it was rhythm changes too. I was known by the square dance band , Duck for the Oyster, as the ‘rhythm monster'(enjoyed often by the band.) Signature and talented music readers can either have fun with it or get puzzled and irritated. Sometimes sung words in syncopation with the written ones. It works. Because I had poor vision and couldn’t read the sheet music in front of me.
One time I thought I had been scheduled to play violin/fiddle with a duet and got up on the stage with them and began to do so. They were a solid duet and they kept looking back at me with puzzlement. I was blocked from engaging with them and so quickly withdrew from the stage. I muttered about my fiddle having issues to keep them at ease. It was OK with me, I didn’t know their set list either.
My improvised music additions led to unexpected events. I was asked by Jerry Garcia to join his group in California, The Grateful Dead, after a jam session in Minneapolis. Why? “Because I liked what you added!” was the reply. I was flattered as there were a dozen guitarists in a circle playing at the same time. All eager to show their talent to the famous musician. I said “thank you but I can’t do that.” California meant meant death from drugs. That band is all dead now. Grateful? Not sure about that. Read about it in Motorcycle pilgrimage 5 and 40 acres of musicians.
Lately there have been other downloads of words that come to me that are not musical. They are answers to prayer requests or just visions of events in words that come unbidden. They just come. Uppermost and undeniable. Often in prayer for some situation for someone I just met or has asked me for prayer. Things uttered that can’t be made up. Situations that arrive fully formed and often, I am reluctant to utter them. Is this just me thinking or is it You Lord? This can be a problem. Discerning our own opinions or thoughts.
There is an opportunity for me to speak these words from the Spirit to someone else. I realize that Wisdom has come with these words at times. Not to speak them would hinder the person being prayed for. Often it is fear leading to my hesitancy to tell of the difficulties that follow the vision. Being a conduit at times can be shocking and my thoughts can get in the way. Mistaking my own wounds for healing others wounds. Jesus is so kind and won’t let me go when it is important to him. I refuse with a shrug and His gentle insistence keeps my attention until I do His will. I tell people sometimes He is the most kind and wise nag I have ever met.
A story I just read was about a Jesuit priest in his middle nighties that got off of a train and saw a very beautiful woman coming towards him with a policeman next to her. She said “It’s him, He’s the one!” The priest sad he was so flattered that he pleaded guilty and spent a month in jail. (De Mello)
The wisdom of the old desert fathers has also helped a lot. Words are just words and silence can be a very good choice. Listening is required of us. Quieting response to people speaking and simply listening to them and the Spirit then conveys understanding. , It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson and Jack Gator
I have noticed an uptick in velocities lately. 65 is the new 55. The speed limit signs used to say 55 day 45 at night.Not only on the highways and byways but everywhere. Rear ended in the baking supplies aisle as I was looking for canned garbanzo beans. Little did I know they were in the next aisle. Found them and fronted the shelf as there were only a half dozen back a ways. Pulled them up (it’s called ‘fronting’ in the retail biz) I thought that was a kind thing to do. I missed them first time around and I am certain there is ‘someone’ out there that needs them too.
I began to notice traffic in the carts had picked up since I entered the big box store. The speed of the carts picked up, and I found a check out lane that was staffed and began to wait my turn. It’s always easy to pass the time by reading the scandal magazines with gossip about the royal family. I got rear ended again. A lot of downward smile remnants and avoidance of eye contact. I have written a column about this called ‘anxiety’ but this time I remembered my recent church experiences. ‘Be anxious for nothing’ from a short book called Philippians, chapter 4.
I am a volunteer at what people refer to as a Mega church. Beautiful place to be and I have made many friends with staff and other volunteers. It’s easy in the earlier mornings because there are very few of us around. We wear name tags which helps those of us that have loose pages in our memory name section. I have an excuse for my internal Roledex missing entries. Seizures a half decade ago. Usual complaints we all have. The electrical system in me got a few circuit breakers tripped and corroded. A little rewiring needed. After a few months, we all remember each others names. Usually.
I stay at my volunteer position all morning from 0700 and leave around thirteen hundred hours. By that time, the parking lot is fairly empty and it is easy to find my way My son who is on staff as production director (I am the assistant director) drives us and buys me a crafted press near Forest lake on our way in. Perfect time for Father/Son chats as well. thepicture above is my son at the directors console
We spend a lot of our time in the media production room and have breakfast at VC (volunteer central). In between services we get to go into the lobby and chat with people and relax. Sometimes I go into the ‘green room’ where the musicians relax and pray with them It’s a pleasant Sunday in church. I am at comfortable there and since I am there every Sunday, I am a familiar person. A lot of volunteers are there on one Sunday a month.
The usual flow is somewhat different. Within minutes after the service is over, it is almost impossible to enter the main sanctuary and work your way to the front. The salmon upstream with four to five abreast coming at you. No one makes room and it is puzzling and scary in some ways. It feels like a fire alarm has gone off. The worshipers have spoken to God and I want to ask if He spoke to them. I like hearing about those things.
Same deal in the lobby and the parking lot. There are orange cones volunteers put out and police directing the outlets to the frontage road. It’s a lot like leaving the airport. A lot of give and take getting out of the lot. One message encouraged us to give way once in a while to someone waiting to get in line. “you don’t have to be Mother Theresa and let everyone in, there are cars behind you as well”. Just pay attention and move but slowly.
Why do we rush about? I can understand a crock pot miles away or a plane scheduled. It’s that way everywhere, always. Not just in this church.
I would love to chat about this mornings worship, the music, the soul scratching messages. The lobby food is all gone, the coffee shop is closed and it feels like we should now wave goodbye to a pleasant ‘restful’ holy day. The musicians leave as soon as the second service is over. After the second service begins, the food is put away in VC and the cleanup starts.
I like the big lobby in between the 9 and 11 services. People leaving and going but the atmosphere is gentile and relaxed. Some people go to both! We do, we have to. When the second service is over, the camera operators come in to our control room and hang up their electronics and badges and we mention a few shots that really were perfectly, and artistically done
We have a good half and hour to shut it all down and say our goodbyes to staff that are hard at work cleaning and making certain of their tasks. I like going through the corridor between our control room and the musician’s ‘green room’ and trying my hand at a double flip on the plastic hatchet throw target. Sometimes tickling the ivories on a old baby grand that is there with the rest of the stage and cables.
That area I Sometimes refer to as the ‘junk drawer’ corridor. A big electric lift platform next to a work bench with a microphone being soldered. Which hadn’t been touched in 6 months It feels like our shop at home with neat stuff. I soldered it last week with my learned skill building short wave transmitters. A delicate touch is required. I still love the smell of rosin core solder.
Alone among several thousand people and in this instance there is someone beside me and with me and is always for me. He turns His face towards me and gives me peace. I can introduce you to Him if you are interested. I would love to, no rush. It’s pretty good,
Jack gators grace notes 