Grace for the choir conductor

Several months ago, my choir was invited to perform at a large conference involving delegates and leaders from different church denominations within Finland.  The MC had asked if she could interview me before we sang.  I assumed she was going to ask me questions about the choir or about our repertoire and was somewhat taken aback when she began with, ¨the theme for our weekend is grace.  I would like to know -- what is grace for you, as a choir director? ¨

Although my initial reaction was one of surprise, I knew immediately the question was a good one.  However, coming up with an appropriate answer, on the spot in front of so many people, made me feel a bit jittery.  I decided to begin carefully, ¨grace is when all your singers turn up at the right time, to the right place, with the correct music and appropriate attire.¨  This answer garnered a few chuckles from both choir and audience, giving me courage to continue.  ¨Grace is also leading a group of individuals from different nations, who speak different languages, are different in age, but who as a group, have decisively come together to communicate and understand one another in order to create beautiful music.¨

I have continued to reflect on this question since the conference.  My choir is much like any group of people -- families, churches, clubs, organizations, colleagues on the job -- you name it. To be sure, there is a distinct difference in that this is a voluntary group and no one is forced to join if they don't want to; however, occasionally singers admit to me they didn't choose the choir -- they just felt called to be there.  This honest admittance, often said in passing, has brought me to humility in my role as the director, since Finland is a nation rich in choral groups.  The truth is that we as a society have become more and more consumer oriented -- if you don't like your new smartphone, you can easily return it for another, and if the church you are attending isn't meeting your needs, why not try visiting the one down the street, or better yet, skip the inconvenience of getting dressed on a Sunday and instead listen to online sermons delivered by an eminent preacher, from the comfort of your own living room.  We have a hard time committing to things nowadays because there are a myriad of distractions and activities to choose from.

The consumer mentality however, often does not prioritize nor fully recognize grace.  Grace overlooks an abundance of imperfections.  If we choose to sit at home alone, we miss out on the opportunity to experience God's grace though interacting with others.  Grace gives us the strength to see past our differences so that we can lend a hand to our neighbour, build a church together, invite a refugee family for lunch, or travel to a foreign land with our choir to make beautiful music.  There is something very powerful that happens when a group of individuals sing together -- the intertwining of individual voices creates a fabric of glorious sound that, as Beethoven reminds us in the final movement of his Ninth Symphony, is reflective of our shared humanity -- humanity that would not exist if it were not for His grace.

The Lost Coin

It has been a few weeks since I could attend my current church (been traveling a lot), but I was really convicted by the message yesterday. The pastor preached on the parable of the lost coin and how one woman searched and searched until she found it. Historians believe this coin may have been her wedding dowry and so when she found it, she rejoices with friends and neighbours alike. 

Here is what bothers me -- we as believers are supposed to go after that lost coin. We are supposed to encourage one another to draw closer to the Lord, tell the world all about the love of Christ that we ourselves have experienced, and pray for those in need. 

For some reason, we don't do it.  Instead, we talk about our jobs, our families, even our church and our friends and our hobbies. I think part of the issue stems from false assumptions that we ourselves are imperfect and therefore incapable of really mirroring Christ's love to a world that really needs it.  Of course, this isn't true and we can absolutely be real and authentic even through our failures and imperfections.  Another reason for this apathy, at least in my case, is that we don't want people to think we are crazy or fanatical even though we know Jesus was pretty fanatical and He went through a lot of trouble to show His love for us, didn't He?

It is the week before Easter, a week where things slow down and most people (at least in my part of the world) have a few days of vacation, and therefore a good time for us to ask ourselves and each other -- do we truly understand what happened at the cross and the grace and love we have received?  Do we know where our peace comes from, and do we know where we are going if we were to die tomorrow?  It struck me again this morning that the only thing that gets us to heaven is our authentic relationship with the Lord and desire to follow Him totally -- not money, career, family ties, fame, and not even the talents He has given us here on earth will bring us eternal life.

And once we know where we are going, are we prepared to go after that one coin -- pray over it, light a candle, sweep away the dirt if we need to -- in order to bring that one person into the Kingdom of God?  

I have never been a missionary nor been good about sharing my faith, and suddenly, this Easter, my heart burns for the lost and for the prodigal sons and daughters out there. 

May this Easter be a time where we can examine our hearts and dare to do the things we are called to do.  May we be the ones who go after that single lost coin -- all for His glory. 

Moving day

     It is now almost midnight, I haven't yet finished packing, and tomorrow is moving day!  Around me are boxes, some only half packed, and it is hard to believe that three years ago, I got on a plane with just two suitcases to start a new life in a foreign land.   Where all my belongings have come from, I can only make a rough estimate -- many households things (furniture, dishes, decorations) came from friends, and others I of course purchased myself along the way.

     Over the past several days, I have attempted to purge... give, discard or donate items I no longer need.   However, it occurs to me that humans spend an incredible amount of energy and time accumulating stuff -- material belongings that often hold sentimental or monetary value, stuff we often become attached to, without being totally conscious of it.   Without a doubt, these items may well be useful and beneficial, even if at the same time we could live without most of it.  Ask anyone who has just come through a natural disaster and lost all their material belongings and although devastated, they are certainly happy to be alive.

     I treasure experiences too.  Climbing the Great wall of China, a helicopter ride over Hawaii, para-sailing off the shores of Malaysia, exploring the architecture in Prague or swimming in Israel's dead sea are certainly unforgettable moments.  I can certainly understand why some people go backpacking for months on end, leaving behind all that is familiar and instead trading it for the thrill of exploring new territory. 

     However, I think there is something more in it for us than simply collecting experiences or material belongings.  Sometimes it is a glimpse of something just out of reach -- that desire to explore, to be inspired, to be more alive than before, to live life to the fullest.

     And with that, tomorrow begins a new day and a new chapter of my life as I leave this home full of memories behind, and enter into another.  

Hospitality

       I took a moment last night to flip through my guest book, which dates back to the fall of 2012, and was pleasantly surprised to see how many friends have come through my home in that span of time.  From casual after-work tea gatherings, to an impromptu spring party, I must confess that I enjoy having people over.  Reading through the comments, I note that many of them are written in languages other than English (almost all of my visitors being non-native English speakers), and a fair number of them are accompanied by sketches or drawings, some of which are truly amusing!  It is interesting to see that many of my guests come out of town, or are otherwise passing through en route to another destination; however, there are also posts from several friends who frequent my place often and write simply "thank you very much for everything -- again!"  I also notice that several "regular" visitors manage to sneak by without signing the book, but for the most part, it provides a fairly reliable record of those who have come for a visit.

     It's true, good friends who stimulate, encourage, challenge, uplift you -- what would life be otherwise?   Birthday celebrations (mine and those of others!), Christmas caroling evening, ladies-only clothes-swapping party (complete with chocolate covered strawberries!), Independence day dinner, Saturday morning brunches.... and the list goes on.  And how lovely it is to engage in lively discourse on all manner of topics, or just catch up on daily life, over a cup of tea and home baked carrot cake?   When you enter someone's home, you also enter into a part of their life you otherwise might not get a glimpse of.  Much of my home furnishings were gifts or hand-me-downs from friends leaving the city, and I love to recount to my guests how I came to possess each one.   

      Recently, a friend lamented that people just don't invite others over anymore for a full meal as it is quite costly -- instead, we busy people tend to go out to eat, splitting the bill, of course.  And yet, however nice it is to have a vast restaurant selection to chose from and to be served, it just isn't the same as being in someone's home!  

      A wise friend once told me "hospitality must be practised." Coming from one who is forever opening her home to others (and makes the best baked salmon I've ever had!), I was surprised to hear her reminder that just like anything else, if you wish to be a good hostess, you must actively and regularly make the decision to invite someone over.  And for me, the invitation is only the beginning.... then I take some time to plan the menu (sometimes I try a new recipe, but many times I return to something that has been tried, tested, and enjoyed by many), and for more elaborate gatherings, advance preparation is required.   I for one, love the process of creating interesting meals to suit various palettes, but above all, I love spending time with people and having them at my table.  So to all my past and future guests -- thank you for gracing my home with your presence!

 

The power of encouragement

      This year, I wrote Christmas cards for the first time in a long time.  I didn't go out and buy anything fancy -- in fact, I had exactly a dozen cards which I had purchased the previous year during a fundraiser and had never used.  I began writing them late one evening, although I think I only got through about half of them and had to finish the task the following day.  I wrote to the first dozen people who came to my mind, most of whom were friends or people I worked closely with in various capacities.  In each card, I enclosed a brief personal note, sincerely thanking each person for the role he/she had played in my life during the past year and wishing them a blessed Christmas.  I posted (or in some cases, hand delivered) the cards and the following day, left town for the holidays.

       Responses to my cards came trickling in via e-mail, SMS and phone calls shortly after.  A couple of people shamelessly admitted they shed tears, and others remarked how much the words encouraged them.   When I returned home from my vacation last week, those who had thanked me in writing made sure to make mention of their card again when we met in person.  I was floored and the experience taught me one thing -- never underestimate the power of words to encourage and uplift.  What I had intended as year-end appreciation surpassed my own expectations, and serves as a fabulous reminder how a few words can go a long way.