Trusting Harmony

The call came around 6:30 last evening. “Anne? This is Sandy. Will you be able to cantor tomorrow morning?” I quickly told her, yes. After having to cancel on her last weekend when we’d made an impromptu visit to my college girl in Rhode Island, I would indeed be at Mass in the morning. I miss being there when I’m out of town. I miss singing with my fellow musicians. “The pope has declared tomorrow a day for Mary. I’d like to do Esurientes”, Sandy continued.  “Could you sing the solo tomorrow? I know it’s late notice....” 

Simply hearing the title of the beautiful song by John Rutter made me smile. “Of course. I’d love to”. 

The music once again began its magic with that phone call. I went to bed humming my solo, remembering the lyrical phrases as I fell asleep. In the morning we headed to St. Joe’s. After greeting everyone’s smiles with my own, I sat down next to Sandy and found my place in the blue composition book. It was time for me to sing. 

*****

When I was a little girl I used to love to hear my Dad sing with his mother. Grammy would harmonize with Dad and I’d sit back in my kitchen chair and smile. Music filled my soul early in life and I learned to harmonize before I could read music. I’d invent tonal harmonies to complement pop songs on the local radio station, and I cemented my ability to sing duets with Dad’s help. “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” was one of our favorites, and “You are My Sunshine” was another. It’s no coincidence that the song became my son’s lullaby years later. 

Dad and I went on the road with our harmonies whenever we visited Nana or Grammy at their nursing homes. We found our way to the piano or organ in the activities room. By then I had learned how to read music and play piano. Dad would take his place at my side and together we’d sing to the residents. Dad did most of the harmonizing, but I continued to take notes on the direction he took each song.

Dad always sang out, his voice strong and melodic, when we went to Mass. However, for years I was too embarrassed to sing at church. I’d sing in the chorus at school, I sang on stage when in musicals, and I’d sing in variety shows, but at church I felt awkward and it seemed no one, at least my own age, was singing. So I was silent. It took a while for me to return to my hometown church singing praise at Mass. But when I did, when I joined Dad and Mom in singing along to every hymn, I felt God’s grace. It was if God was winking at me saying, “THERE! Finally! You’re singing, Anne. Don’t ever stop”.  

*****

As I sang Esurientes at St. Joe’s this morning, the choir added to the magnificent tapestry with their harmonies. My voice was strong and pure and as we took a quick break before Mass began, Sandy remarked how naturally and lyrically I sang the piece now, years after singing the music for the first time. I smiled and said thank you, but I turned my attention to Jesus on the cross. For I know what He has done for me throughout the years. When it comes to music, He knows how much I offer up to Him. And He, in return, fills me with His grace. My soul is refreshed. I am reminded of all that I am able to do for Him, if I will keep a song in my heart. As I began the solo at Communion time, I lost attention for a moment. My mind began to wander, which is not a good thing to have happen when you're singing a solo. As familiar as I am with the song, I needed to be paying attention to my notes and phrasing. Instinctively, Sandy heard me begin to falter and in an instant she guided me safely back. Focused again, I sang my solo without error. But I was once more reminded of how powerful music is for me, how it can return me to my path when I step off, however briefly. 

Music is an oasis. Music, with its modulations reaches deep to comfort us. It is hard to listen to the music of beautiful hymns such as Rutter’s Magnificat without feeling that God is using the artistry to speak intimately with us. But it’s not only church music that has this effect on me. Whenever I have doubt, whenever I forget my way, He brings music to me. Sometimes it’s the next song that comes on the radio, the one that reminds me to have faith. Sometimes it is the song I belt on the stage, the one that throws caution to the wind because no matter what happens, He’ll have my back. Sometimes it is the next hymn I announce to the congregation. 

As cantor today, I read the number of our next hymn. It was a song we had never sang at St. Joe’s, but the minute I turned to it, I began to smile. I remembered hearing the song at St. Martin’s when I was a child. It had been decades. The song began with an introduction that was not set to music; only the lyrics were written. But I knew the tune. 

Gentle woman, quiet light, morning star so strong and bright, 

gentle mother, peaceful dove, 

teach us wisdom; teach us love.

You were chosen by the Father:

You were chosen for the Son, 

You were chosen from all women

and for woman shining one. 

Gentle woman, quiet light, morning star so strong and bright, 
gentle mother, peaceful dove, 
teach us wisdom; teach us love.

As the choir led the congregation, I looked up at Jesus again. I was hearing Dad’s voice singing harmony. Someday, I’m going to stand next to Dad and sing harmony with him again. In God’s choir. I know this to be true. Grammy will be there too. In the meantime, I’ve got some singing ...learning ...teaching... writing... living...loving here on Earth to do. 

As I left the church after Mass, Father Sam stopped me and took my hand, “Thank you for the music”, he said to me. “You are welcome”, I smiled, “so very welcome”. 

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for the music.