Today, during Chapel, our organist received a phone call that his father had passed away. He had been ill and so it was not totally unexpected, but nevertheless, it was a sad moment.
We (the Divinity Choir) were leading an all-music service and David had slipped out of the loft during the longest non-music part of the service. This is actually a common occurrence, in fact, you can often find David with his ninja like reflexes, quietly opening the side door to the organ and slipping inside it to adjust something. Since he is the first person to be employed by the school to play that organ, David knows it both inside and out, and in many ways it is his organ. Having never seen what is inside behind the little door, I have no clue what he does when he goes in there. Probably top secret organ stuff that I would never understand. (look at about 1:41 on the hyperlink). So no-one was really surprised when he left today. Except when we figured out what had happened when he left. Immediately, a plan was sprung into action and Mark, a 3rd year who also plays organ, sat down on the bench in preparation to play during communion, and if he had to, for the rest of the service.
But then David, after composing himself, came back in and insisted on finishing the service.
So we moved into the Great Thanksgiving, (without anyone in the chapel except a few of us in the loft knowing what had happened) and David sat solemnly on the bench, facing the organ, not looking at anything else but the keys, until he played the musical setting for communion.
At this point I should probably note that David wrote the musical setting that the Divinity School uses for communion.
So there I stood, three feet away from a majestic two manual, thirty stop, three-year-old organ (built and installed in 2008) with 1700 pipes, being played by a dedicated, highly talented, yet grieving man, who was playing a piece that he had written. Judging by its copyright of 2005, it was probably written for Goodson Chapel (completed along with the Westbrook Building in 2005), and was clearly written to highlight the beautiful instrument that is the organ, and specifically the organ that would later be housed in our chapel.
Naturally, I was weeping.
It was such a tragic, yet beautiful moment, hearing him play his own music and I feel certain deep in my heart that his dad was proud of him and what he had written.
Then we continued with the service and the hymn sung during distribution, "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence." I tried looking for a version of the arrangement that was just a choir and organ like we had, but the one I found simply did not do what was heard today in Goodson justice.
When we had rehearsed the piece about a week or so ago, Allan (our conductor) had us listen to David play the accompaniment to the fourth verse which reads: "At His feet the six-winged seraph, cherubim, with sleepless eye. Veil their faces to His presence, as with ceaseless voice they cry: Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Lord Most High!" As the accompaniment changes when the choir sings "cry" you can really hear what sort of effect Gustav Holst was going for when he arranged this piece. Breath-taking.
When we reached that part in the song, despite the fact that I had managed to reel my tears in, they came back full force. As David played his heart out, it was like the heavens had opened up and the angels were singing with us, comforting this man in mourning and welcoming his father to heaven. (the part of me that wants to avoid being labeled a heretic realizes that this may not be exactly what happens when we die and go to heaven, however, that image seemed most fitting.)
And then it hit me. This is really what it's all about. It's not about grades, and papers, and trying to keep up with your fast-talking professor during lecture. It's about glorifying God with the angels. It's about life and death, and Christ's resurrection. The body and the blood. That in death there will be life, since Christ died for our salvation and gave us the gift of eternal life. "It's about me. About my body and my blood, about my death for you and your sins." That's what God was saying to me.
As much as I love the connection with God that I get when singing CCM and Gospel music; the earthy feeling of lifting my prayers up to God and feeling a connection with God personally, there is nothing like a pipe organ and the amazing, spine-tingling sounds that it can produce when it plays music for worshiping God. It is a glorious and angelic sound that fills your entire body and it's so loud that you can't even think about anything else but how beautiful it is. It lifted my spirits and I found myself elated as the Holy Spirit washed over my and renewed my soul. I was given a mountain-top experience and it was all because I happened to be witness to a musician playing his pipe organ while mourning the loss of his father.
And it was tragically beautiful.
