In the 15 minutes before the Service of the Living Tradition tonight, we were led in “ingathering singing.” I understand that this is the trend in larger churches, especially those with music directors who are active in the Unitarian Universalist Musician’s Network. I had mixed feelings about this innovation. On the one hand, I like to sing, and it’s fun to have that extra opportunity to do so. On the other hand, I like the unstructured time before the worship service when you can greet old friends, talk to people you don’t yet know, or simply sit in contemplative silence.
On the whole, I decided I did not like the ingathering singing — it felt like more of an imposition than an opportunity. And alas, it did not feel particularly worshipful.
*****
Two Credentialed Religious Educators, Master’s Level, were recognized in the Service of the Living Tradition. Mindy Whisenhunt wore an academic gown with a master’s hood, which I felt showed an nice appreciation for the subtleties of this new professional certification.
By wearing an academic gown, Mindy showed that she was at the same academic level as the ministers, while the master’s hood made it clear that she was not wearing a Geneva gown, but an academic robe. While she could have worn ordinary clothing, that can be problematic for female religious professionals, and more to the point Mindy’s gown makes it quite clear that she is not an ordinary layperson but a credentialed leader in her religious community.
Maybe Mindy will start a tradition for Credentialed Religious Educators.
*****
Most people made the mistake of standing up and talking or wandering around or leaving at the end of the recessional hymn. I stayed and listened to Dennis Bergin, the organist for the service, as he played an amazing piece of music by Marcel Dupre (1886-1971), the Prelude and Fugue in B Major, Op. 7 No. 1, from 1912. Dupre was known in his lifetime as an organ virtuoso, and this composition shows his deep knwoledge of the organ.
Bergin played this difficult piece of music in spite of the fact that people were calling out to each other right within a few feet of him; that there was general chaos around him; and that the sound system was less than ideal. A few of us — a slowly increasing number — stood around in amazed appreciation at his concentration and musicianship. It was a bravura performance of a complex piece of music that required Bergin to have nearly as much agility in his footwork as in his hands. Wow.
At the end, those of us standing around broke into uproarious applause (if you can call twenty people applauding “uproarious”), with a few shouts of bravo. He turned around and grinned at us.
Bergin is such a treat. We always sit and listen, especially when he plays Bach or Dupre for the postlude. My mom was an organist, which gives me an odd appreciation for it as a twenty-seven year old. Generally my partner and I are left with many of the older folks in the congregation after services, sitting and listening. We watched the service for a while, streaming online, but wound up studying instead.
I prefer having an organ prelude to gather people in–at least here, people don’t come in and chat loudly during it, but use it as a time to reflect. It hasn’t been that way in all churches I’ve been in (the one my mom played in, the prelude was background music for really loud talking). So I can see why music that is led might help people get into the frame of mind for worship who might otherwise spend the time distracted.
He was definitely a good organist, and I applaud his commitment to making good music. The sound engineers, however, made it impossible for me to enjoy his performance.
On postludes – I think they should always be walking music. One of our musicians in the Milwaukee congregation always does an improvisation on the last hymn, which works well.
Jess — The sound was appalling. And yes, postludes should be walking music — except in this case we had just had a recessional hymn, so I feel Bergin’s choice of music was sound (if idiosyncratic — using a prelude as a postlude is a bit strange) — the music was architectural rather than narrative in conception, so you did not have to listen to the whole thing to appreciate it.
CK — Bergin plays in your church?! Wow. Lucky you.
Dan
I totally agree with you about the ingathering music. Was it Emerson who said something like: “I like the quiet church before the service”? I know I’m getting the words wrong, but the sentiment is there. There’s something about silent contemplation before a service that’s very Quaker…
Hey Abby — Silence is fine, though actually I have to admit I like to yak with people before the service. (I do try to keep my voice down, though, so the silence-lovers like you can experience, if not silence, at least quite.) I think for me it’s less about the sound, and really about strutured vs. unstructured time.