On Mutual Inspiration

Read these two posts by my dear friend Amanda about the process of leaving her job at Luther Place Memorial Church in Washington, DC. I met Amanda when I was a Short-Term Recruiter for Lutheran Volunteer Corps in the fall of 2008. Because we worked just down the hall from one another (LVC was founded by, and remains housed by, Luther Place), the other STRs and I got to know Amanda, and kept up with her after I'd moved on to other adventures after that fall. After her year of LVC with the Steinbruck Center, she was hired on at Luther Place to do all sorts of awesome work, including the two artistic pursuits detailed in the blog posts, creating the Bethany’s Women of Praise choir and painting beautiful murals on the doors of the old church.

What I love about Part One is the way choir and conductor learn from each other and inspire each other to reach beyond conventional limits. Amanda is a gifted musician, and is off to study choral conducting with my old friends, but I am willing to bet she learned some lessons from her singers at N Street Village that her incumbent singers (Yale grad students and undergrads) could never have taught. Specifically, what motivates a singer to show up for rehearsal or for a concert? How does a conductor truly engage a choir member, reaching the heart of a singer in order to draw out their best effort, their most impassioned interpretation of a piece of music?

I've been a singer since I can remember, and I learned more about community and hard work in choirs than everywhere else in my life combined. Making music with friends and strangers, I learned that I am powerful and capable of making a difference, but that my individual efforts must always support those with whom I have committed to mutual goals and efforts. Singing was the first thing I was good at, and through choral singing I realized that my own gifts and talents shine brightest not in isolation, but in concert with those who work alongside me. Singing was never about me; it was always about the beautiful music we were able to create together. Likewise, church is never about the pastor, or even the congregation; it's always about the love of God in Jesus that we can show and share with the world. As a singer or as a follower of Jesus, I am one part of a much larger community, serving a larger purpose, participating in and helping to create something wonderful.

In a choir, the conductor must find ways to engage singers and draw out the best music they can produce. A conductor must see (hear?) the best in her singers, and her job is to make them see (hear) that best-ness as well. A conductor needs to look past all the usual foibles (laziness, silliness, apathy, inability, even diva-ness) of a singer to see the passion and talent and artistry that will make the music truly live. She must, in short, be inspired by her singers. And they, of course, must be inspired by her efforts, her knowledge, her ability to communicate the unfamiliar language of music to a singer who has a voice but no idea how to use it.

I have had the privilege of singing for many wonderful conductors. The best of them found the right combination of high expectations and believing in their singers, believing that we were capable of more than we'd dreamed. That's leadership: getting people to commit to a goal, and then challenging them to truly give their all to meet the goal, always reminding them that you see potential for improvement, for greatness, for more success than any of them had expected.

I know this is tending toward rambly nonsense, and the middle of the night has sneaked up on me, but I can't quit before talking a bit about the wonderful Dorothy Day mural that was the subject of the second part of Leaving is Hard. Dorothy Day is the namesake of my first LVC house in Tacoma, Washington, and will always have a special place in my heart. It gives me a deep, abiding hope that a Lutheran congregation is willing to allow the story and image of "St. Dorothy of New York" to be our public face and to inspire our work as the body of Christ in the world. I'm jealous that Luther Place had such a gifted artist to create such a statement (along with murals of Saint Francis and Martin Luther King, Jr.). Most of all I am inspired to look beyond our usual (and usually self-imposed) limitations, to reject conventional constraints and to inspire my congregation to seek bold and creative new ways to communicate the love of God for the whole world.

Now that I may be back in the habit of blogging, I plan to write about some ways forward in this endeavor. From our recent Synod Assembly to Vacation Bible School to new relationships with community groups to the exciting new efforts of the Worship, Outreach, and Congregational Care committees at LCS, the Spirit is alive and at work all around us. By the grace of God, perhaps the above ramblings will coalesce into focused energy toward participating in these Spirit-led works.