Gratuitous Ecumenical Musickal Posting (TM)

A good day on the religious musick front.

First, I cannot help but puff just a bit about the middle Llama-ette's triumph this morning. Although at eight years the youngest member of her youth choir, she nonetheless got a solo verse in today's Offeratory Anthem at what from here on out I will refer to as Robbo's Former Episcopal Church, or RFEC. It was a modern, peppy affair in 5/4 time, the verse of which ought to have had the Dave Brubeck Quartet speed-dialing their copyright lawyers had they been aware of it. She had been quite worried about performing all by herself, and we spent a fair bit of time yesterday practicing together, self counseling her to remember her breathing and to sing as loud as she could. I needn't have been concerned: the gel marched forward when the time came, puffed up her cheeks, rolled her eyes, and struck the notes, as a former golf course starter of my acquaintence used to say, "with great vigah". Furthermore, as she was singing into a mic, the plaster was positively falling from the ceiling by the time she was done. (She wasn't alone in her achievement, by the way. The entire chorus of seven girls - ranging in age from eight to about twelve - positively nailed it this morning. Not only that, they knew that they did. This I attribute to the talent and patience of their director.)

After the service was over at RFEC, I scuttled over to my new digs for Mass. And here again I got a treat: not only was I perfectly familiar with all three of the hymns served up (each of which I have sung many times in my Anglican past), I also happened to be surrounded for once with people who were interested in trying to sing them. Given such cover, I did not feel the slightest bit self-conscious indulging in them.

Speaking of my new digs, let me just share a bit of a rant about them. I happen to love almost everything about my new Catholic parish except this: the church itself is hidious - Eisenhower Moderne at its worst. Not only does its circular shape and central altar remind me irresistably of the Jupiter II, but it is supplied with about eight exit doors all around the circuit. This allows people to scuttle off almost literally whilst still mumbling the Host. I was taught that nobody leaves before the Recessional, and that when one does leave, one goes out the front, shaking the Padre's hand and saying "Good Morning" along the way.

Hmph! I've known for a long time that God was gently but irresistably shooing me into the Tiber, but I used to just look at it from the perspective of what Rome would do for me. Is it possible that given my sensibilities about hymnody and Mass etiquette, Himself might also have been thinking of what I might be able to do for Rome?