Thursday, August 23, 2007

 

"A frustrated professional musician"

(backposting) A very interesting URC worship service in the morning, then more work on the music, including a discussion. It was wide-ranging, but we got quite hung up on the question of how to reconcile the desire for the highest quality music (and worship for God) with the wish to include people of varying abilities. I really struggle, these days, with singing in Christmas choirs, and decline the invitation, usually. I don't mind listening, but there are times when I want to create the very best I can. I struggle with the fact that it's difficult to explain that I feel pain when not worshipping to the best of what I can achieve, just as someone may feel pain when they feel excluded from music making. Brenda, a professional musician on the course who will give up a large part of that when she's ordained, discussed this in some depth with me, and it was she who said "you're a frustrated professional musician".

I think she's right. Although I made a very conscious decision not to become a musician, and I think it was a good one, there come times in our lives when we realise how big those decisions were. I have very little opportunity for high-standard music-making at the moment, and I really miss it: particularly when I _do_ get the chance, which I have done on this course, in particular with the madrigal group. I really don't think I realised what good musicians we were at King's, and actually how good a musician I have the capability of being, thanks be to God. But it's a burden, too...

Had feedback on my service yesterday morning from Cathy, on the staff. Very helpful, and generally positive, which I'm pleased about.

A discusssion on the church in "cyberspace" (yuck), at which we talked at length about SecondLife and the Anglican Cathedral there. People raised some very good questions, quite a few of which I had no answers to.

Final rehearsals for tomorrow's Review...

Oh, and Andrew and I saw a Merlin today, which had killed and was protecting a dead blackbird. What a privilege!

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