Mentors, Part 2

What distinguishes Pavarotti from Domingo, or from, say, the master of music candidate giving their umpteenth recital in the hopes of making it to the big leagues, the lead role in a Puccini or Donizetti opera?

Granted, you have to have the technique down. That’s a no brainer. If you can’t keep your notes in tune and zip through the virtuosic literature then you don’t stand a chance anywhere. That’s just practice, practice, practice. But there is one thing you cannot learn in the practice room, at least not all on your own: Musicianship.

Most of what I learned about musicianship I learned from one person, Richard “Dad” Hoffland. He and his wife labored over the Millikin University choir for many years, finally retiring in 1991. I had the fortune of singing under his direction for four tours. His musicianship was, in modern parlance, old school. If this link works, give it a try, if you want an example of his conducting. There wasn’t a composition that he would conduct that didn’t have something extra, something special, something undeniably and irrevocably influenced by the way he directed the choir. He had a certain “style” as it were. And the musicianship. Boy howdy. If you didn’t become a real musician just by singing under his baton, then you just simply weren’t paying attention.

What does this have to do with “Apostolic” music, you may be wondering? That is, if you have gotten this far, and didn’t stop reading immediately upon coming across the “O” word. People seem to have a special hatred for certain genres of music. The “O” word is high among the list.

If you can get past the occasional out-of-tune solos in some of our churches (I realize there are places where these are more the norm than occasional, perhaps due to some nepotic or otherwise inbred or lazy acculturative tendencies), and if you can get past the general unpreparedness some folks bring to their leading worship or singing specials (again, refer to the parenthetical comment above), and if the musicians are attentive to the singer, and the singer is able to get past the notes and get to the music, you may be able to hear what I mean. I imagine I will get some flack for not putting any emphasis here on the worship. That is fine and well deserved. I will address that in a future post.

Oh. And by the way, I don’t have a strong preference in the Pavarotti vs. Domingo argument. I like Domingo’s voice. I like Pavarotti’s bearing. Pavarotti is the king of the dramatic (overly or melodramatic, some would say) whereas Domingo is in a class all by himself. There’s a hundred of ‘em, if not a thousand, but the artiste verité is one in a million. Or a billion. For a representative comparison, give Domingo a listen, then listen to Pavarotti singing the same aria.

Music Mentors, Part 1

Who are your music mentors? I have a few. I’ll start with one from my delicate high school years.

Most folks I have encountered who have studied classical piano for any length of time have what can best be referred to as a love-hate relationship with the instrument. They love it. But they hate it. They love to hate it. It’s not really the piano’s fault. Playing piano well (doing ANYTHING well, for that matter) takes a lot, I mean, a LOT of practice. Hours and hours. And hours and hours. And I just didn’t put in the required effort.

Mrs. Philpott was my first piano teacher. Lovely name for a piano teacher, don’t you think? She lived over on Canterbury Lane. Picturesque address, isn’t it? I just made it up. I think she lived on . . . well forget it. Something Lane. I don't remember too much of those early years, only, that, well, I preferred to play by ear rather than by note. I would ask Mrs. Philpott to demonstrate a particular passage that I struggled with, then I wouldn’t have to learn to read music. I could just play it back just as I had heard it. I had a good memory for it, I suppose.

Whatever happened with Old Mrs. Philpott, is one for the unsolved mysteries of life. Dr. Kelly, on the other hand, is a completely different story. He was a man from a different generation. Born in 1921 or maybe it was 1923 or 1919, he was one of those tortured souls. Tortured by his love for the piano. He played it constantly. He loved it, more than anything. He practiced ferociously, whipping through degree after degree until finally earning the equivalent of a D.M.A. from Northwestern University. His love for music consumes him. His passion for it, unbounded.

As a piano teacher, Dr. Kelly was a stern, uncompromising taskmaster. He had a pointer he would use, with which he would point to items in the musical score that you had missed, or alternatively, he would use it to tap you on the shoulder to indicate it was time to stop playing because you forgot something or missed something or what have you.

I didn’t always practice as much as I should have. To be completely honest, I don’t recall ever practicing very much in my pre-college days. I practiced just enough to get by. And it was eventually enough to get me into a performance program in college. Dr. Kelly was never very pleased with my playing, at least, hardly ever. And he would berate me for being involved in any extra-curricular activity at school, high school musical, tennis, soccer. Anything that kept me away from time that should be devoted to practicing the piano was . . . can we say that he was jealous for my music time? I did end up quitting piano under his tutelage, about halfway through my junior year of high school (coinciding roughly with the high school musical). Early in my senior year, we had a time of patching together the rough places of our relationship and he helped me get a program ready for my applications to colleges.

He was from a generation where hard work was the expectation, the norm. Anything less is simply inadequate and to be reprimanded. Hard work, it would seem, has gone from being commonplace to being largely absent in the last few decades.

Who is jealous for your time today? Who is expecting more from you than you think you are capable of giving? You do have it in you. Let God help to bring it out of you.

How do YOU Know?

Someone suggested that I discuss how I know I’m called to music ministry. I would like to first apologize for this late entry. I am currently having my computer worked on by a friend whom I believe is working in a calling that God has given him. I plan to use this friend to reinforce my opinion. While I am extremely tired; I will try to write more than a simple one-line answer.

My friend is an extremely intelligent and talented computer engineer. He is probably the most sought after PC company in our county. One day, a lady from our church was seeking someone to donate a website to raise money to purchase a wheel chair accessible van. Not only did this particular friend donate the website, but he came to our church and donated the labor, a lot of the hardware and software, and another website for our church. The “greatness” of my friend’s skills need not be discussed to make this point. Just know that he was helping any churches in our area with these things because he is passionate about it being done and it being done well; and beyond that, being done correctly.

I’ve visited this man’s house and had to leave because he was in some kind of “computer code zone” and could not communicate with me. He knows that this is his calling because it, at times can consume him. He operates effectively in this ministry, correctly and insists that it be done well. These are great qualities to have when operating in a ministry. Even though none of us are perfect, God will see these qualities and improve us to be what we need to be to get the job done where we’re at.

There is no doubt that many people have different responses to the question of how they knew they were “called” to do something. Some say that they saw visions or dreamed dreams. Some say they were prophesied to. I say that it was a natural occurrence in my life.

I know that this may not even be coherent, but I don’t care. It’s too late to go back through this and start erasing and replacing stuff. But I believe one way for people to know they are called to something is the natural manifestation of that ministry in their lives. Please note that Saul was called to be king and it was his qualities that became associated with those that would be king. Then David came with a totally new set of qualities. There is not much of a “standard” set for people being “called” into certain ministries. God needs a willing vessel that will allow Him to equip and qualify them. Just as SSD said, God needs laborers. We shouldn’t feel like God only wants to use certain people in certain ministries. He’ll use whoever will allow Him to use them. Sometimes that willingness can bring a “calling.”

God bless!

Praise Singing

Consider the praise singer; lovely to behold, always sings in tune (or even in harmony), always at church on time (or even a few minutes before the start of service to review the song list with the worship leader). Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be at pre-service prayer. Maybe I’ll be at pre-service prayer. You just never know with some people.

Praise singers are an unheralded, underappreciated, and, all-too-often, under-miked group of folks. Yes, it’s a thankless job being a praise singer. For some it’s simply doing time before reaching the big leagues of being a worship leader. For others, it’s a terminal station in ministry—no ambition to lead worship, or simply lacking the talent, good looks, or opportunity to do so.

Why aren’t there more men that are praise singers? Are they not as lovely to behold? Are they less likely to sing in tune? Are they less likely to be to church on time? Or is it that there are just fewer of them?

How many praise singers should you have? One for every twenty-five members in the congregation? Once you reach that twenty-sixth regular member, time to add another praise singer? Three at fifty-one; four at seventy-six? Or is there some other matrix for calculating the correct number of praise singers of which I am unaware?

What is the reason for praise singers? Are they the “back-up” singers in case the worship leader forgets the words, doesn’t quite know the tune, or is too lost in worship to sing straight?

And what about the congregation that doesn’t utilize a “worship leader” proper, the one with the person behind the keyboard or guitar slung around shoulder where the band is sitting and nobody singing from behind the pulpit? Should you still have a praise singer (or two) even if you don’t have the traditional worship leader?

And people, can I just make a few pleas? Would you please sing in the microphone? So I can hear you? Pretty please? Do I have to ask again? Can you please, please smile? Or at least don’t look like you are suffering or terrified or miserable. And please, wear something nice. No denim.

Yes. I am trying to provoke you. No. I am not really serious on some of the points outlined above. But I would love to hear your thoughts!

Where's MY white light?

Yesterday, a friend asked me if I felt a call to the music ministry. What a great question! And I don't even have to think hard about it. The answer is a resounding - No.

Never have, really.

I've had plenty of piano lessons, choir practices, college classes, etc. But I've never had the blinding white light from Heaven, or that burning conviction in my heart that I should be a musician. And yet, there I am every Sunday moring, leading worship at my church.

Part of me envies those people who know music is their destiny. It would be so comforting to have that certainty, especially on those Sunday mornings when I pick the wrong songs, or hit some sour notes, or things just stink in general.

Part of me thinks that we put too much of a premium on "callings." Should I pack up my chorus book and let everyone sing acappella because I never had a musical epiphany? And what about those people that most every music leader has dealt with. The ones that "know" they're called to be a soloist, even though their vocal abilities don't match their confidence.

Callings are a risky topic, since God doesn't send us a signed affidavit that we can whip out as proof. But hard work and hours of practice are indisputable. God needs laborers for the field, and I feel like I shouldn't sit around and wait for an engraved invitation.

What if . . . ?

The question that almost everyone asks themselves is, “What if things had turned out different for me?” What if I couldn’t play any instruments? What if I couldn’t teach choir? What would I be doing? Obviously, the answer will be different for just about everybody, but I’m going to explore what I would be doing if I was not involved in music.

It’s natural to assume that I would just focus on preaching since that is another ministry God has given me. But the truth is that I received the calling to preach while following the path my musical calling had me on. So, imagining that I would not have received the calling to preach, I would have to say that I would probably try video/visual ministry things. I know that covers a lot of things, but I’ll break it down for you.

Even now as a music minister, I’m always concerned with whether or not the words on the video screen are correct and that they are displayed on time. Working in this ministry challenges one to think and be considerate of others. And I like knowing that I did something at the end of the day that helped somebody.

I also like the freedom of creativity that comes with working in the visual ministry. One gets select background slides, fonts, and other things that people see on the video screen. So, not only do you get to help people, you get to do it in YOUR style.

I also like the idea of working the video camera, getting the right angles at the right times. This is great because you get to be a part of making something that lasts forever. When things are videoed, one tends to want his work to look good because it’s not going to just disappear one day.
Now after I’ve said all that, you may wonder, “Why don’t you get into that ministry?” Well, I am involved in that ministry, just not as in depth as some of the things I spoke about. This involvement comes naturally with being the music minister. So, I’m happy. I get to be involved in the visual media ministry while following my calling to others.

When I grow up I want to be......

One of my college professors told me that a person should only pursue a music degree if there was nothing else they could do. In other words, if that is the only apparent talent, if there are absolutely no other interests, then that avenue would be wise. I've often pondered that as I've walked this rough road of the music profession. Now, many people look at me like I have a monkey on my head when I say that, as they proclaim, "I'm so jealous of you - you get to set around and do music, listen to music, write music and get paid for it!" Oh if that were only true. Forget all the lonely, painful hours of practicing that often never lead to the conclusion you or your professor want. Forget the nervous breakdowns before concerts.....forget all that. It's all rosey.

So what about music makes it a difficult profession? Well, for starters, It's feast or famine. Unfortunately, it's been famine for me. I have friends I went to school with who play for the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and make three times - literally three times - as much money as I make. I've searched for a happy medium (although the "three-times" amount would be fine) but have never found it. It's a lot of part-time work - very little opportunity for full-time employment in music. Now, granted, I've been blessed to have a full-time music teaching position at Gateway College of Evangelism for the past 14 years (wow - has it been THAT long?). As anyone would guess, music MINISTRY gets treated much like any other ministry when it comes to pay. But I chose this route, right? I take full responsibility for that.

The other difficulty, among many, that I"ll point out is dealing with all those lovely egos. I just can't seem to acquire enought sense to stop pursing a doctoral program, which is suprising considering the results I've often had. It's dog-eat-dog, at least in my experience. Sometimes I wonder if some of those schools even WANT students! And the critiques are so very personal. I've experienced my deepest hurts during interviews with music professors - THAT I can say with certainty. But I m ust also say that some of the most humble, broken people I know are musicians.

So what would I do if I weren't a music educator? Hmmm....so many dreams. I always wanted to be a chiropractor - almost went to school for that. If I weren't so "old" I'd probably try it even now - that and the fact that I have to do math - a "four-letter-word" in my book. That aside, I would like to be involved in history at some level. I heard of a guy who archives American music for foreign countries - a job he has through the State Department. That would be neat. History and music. I'd like to do tours for famous landmarks, like Monticello or Mt Vernon. Or, I'd like to be involved in WWII history somehow.

But here I am - setting here in my office at Gateway typing this blog surrounded by music. I love it and appreciate it the joy it has afforded me, no doubt. But sometimes I just want to throw all my scores out the window and sell the piano and walk away. For now, I'll stay on this roller coaster and see where it leads.

I'm reading- "Where is God When It Hurts" by Philip Yancey (favorite author) and "Mourning Into Dancing" by Henri Nouwen