Longing

I have the music bug again, so says the Other J. I go through phases now and again. Of course, I played flute all through middle and high schools, but it was a joyless process. Out of sheer will and practice, I endeavored in becoming a somewhat accomplished flautist. However, I always seemed to want an alternative musical outlet. In one of my earlier ones, I convinced my parents to buy me a guitar and made painstakingly slow progress on the instrument. Then I went to college and took some guitar lessons and made some more slow progress. But at least I got to the point of being able to accompany myself singing some praise music. In that time period, I also joined an a cappella group and took part in a musical. So I got to express an inherent and undeniable performance bug aspect too.

Law school was a dry period. So were the first few years of living in DC. But eventually the bug hit again and I was presented with another outlet opportunity. Before we get into all that, however, I should say, I am no musical prodigy. Quite brutally, I don't have much musical talent at all. I have a decent voice. If being kind, one could say that it is a better than average one. But I do have musical training from all those years of flute playing. My ear is not that great either. Nonetheless, I get a level of unknown satisfaction when I'm in my "musical bug" phases. In another life, or perhaps my inner self, really beats with a bohemian heart and music is my one small outlet for it. I actually was a pretty good artist as a kid, but it had been wrung out of me for more academic pursuits. Objectively, I had much more natural talent in that area than in music, but while at least through flute I was able to somewhat cultivate whatever little talent I had in that arena, I didn't go back to art. I was never drawn to it. But perhaps it wouldn't have been as frustrating as my arc with music. I've been broken and raw because of it.

Thus the return to my sad little tale where I got to express simultaneously my music and performance bug at a church in DC. I was a part of their worship team. I started out playing guitar for them and also desperately wanted to sing too (backup vocals / harmonies). But the team decided that it needed administrative help in the form of someone who made up the schedules, kept the music and lead sheets organized, sent out new music to people, emailed, change keys and transpose, etc., etc. The worship leader at the time, was not doing these things well and at the nudging of the Other J, I accepted the task (the Other J could not take the level of chaos at the time and would have walked from the team; he was on it too). I organized and straightened things out and put the leadsheets in electronic format. It took hours of downloading from the internet or worse, hours of scanning in of hard copies from songbooks or loose pieces of paper. Transposing of keys to a more comfortable singing pitch. I did it. It was an act of will and of love? But it was certainly not life giving. I had conversations with the worship leader and told her that if I could not do things that were life giving too, I didn't think I could continue doing what I was doing. I was hearing things about how I was a problem -- not treating sensitive music people with the right touch (probably true); was an outsider coming into a group that had been together for years; etc. So the worship leader let me sing a little more and invited me to help her select the song sets for Sunday worship. But then there always would be a "personal bible study" where God would speak to her about songs and she wasn't trying to keep me from the process, blah, blah, blah, and I would smile and say that it was OK. But the truth was, I was disappointed and hurt.

And the crescendo built to a week where the worship leader and the backup worship leader couldn't lead Sunday worship. So I led worship that Sunday and it went fine. But things blew up afterwards. I don't even remember exactly why we met, but the pastor and I met on several occasions about the team and he would convey to me the ways in which I had made mistakes, my friction with the worship leader was coming to a head, and our conversations didn't really result in clear communications, but instead led to a falling out. It's been too long ago to figure things out well. But I'm sure I made mistakes. Pushing too aggressively at making things more efficient, bruising other musicians in the way, and because of the administrative role, somehow there was the air of authority and some of the team members would approach me instead of the leader to air concerns or grievances. And I don't think she liked that. There was a bit of turf war she was having in her own mind, hence her unwillingness to let me help her pick songs, and she would get pretty autocratic about wanting a certain version of a song because she was the worship leader (never mind that there were other arrangements available and it would take me lots of time to transpose and come up with new lead sheets for the version she wanted). Also, the pastor's wife was a team member and I don't think she liked my style, which she leaked to the pastor's ear. He absolutely denied it when I asked about it, but one can tell when one is not particularly liked, and I have had enough drama with the worship leader -- I had asked if I could just drop the organizing and just sing instead and she replied that she had to think about it. It was not an unreasonable response, but at the time, it sounded like a criticism about my voice (it wasn't good enough) and that if she couldn't bleed me for my administrative skills, I was no good to her.

So the Other J and I decided to go to a different church before we moved to CT. A well-meaning third party organized a meeting between all the involved parties in this sordid little mini musical/dramedy. It started with the worship leader and I not saying much. And it could have been over with that. But the organizing third party chastised us and we both started talking a lot, with little grace. I think there was more anger there than anything else and we both said things that we meant to be sheerly hurtful. I said that she and her buddies were more interested in performing rather than worshipping God and that she and I were not friends. We had spent lots of time together, but I felt like she had treated me like her personal slave and friendship doesn't usually spring from that kind of dynamic -- I didn't say that part to her, but maybe I should have.

Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. As a side bar, I learned how to play the drums for that worship team, but never got to play with them. I am now thinking about playing the drums for the team at my new church. But I hinted and emailed both the pastor and the worship leader about the possibility on more than one occasion. And that I'd also maybe like to sing backup vocals, if needed, and would be willing to audition for one or both parts. I sent an email as recent as yesterday. But I have a feeling that I may never hear back. And I know for a fact that one of the drummers that they rely on will be moving in July.

I dunno. Maybe it's an avoidant personality thing, but I often get the feeling that pastors are a little afraid of me. That I'm a bit of a loose cannon. It stings a little. I volunteer time, energy, and other resources to every church I have ever been a part. I'm responsible, am willing to do the dirty work, but never am part of the inner circle of a pastor. That would be just fine, but the nagging and persistent feeling that they are afraid of me is a little heartbreaking. I am not even allowed to pray for people at the current church. Somebody asked me to be part of a little group who prayed for people at the end of church service. Then it was very clear that they changed how they did things and changed who may or may not pray at that time. They had several incarnations of it. And in the end, the pastor was very nice about explaining how he had changed things and that there was some miscommunication and bad timing. But ultimately, I can't help but notice that things have worked out to make sure I wouldn't be one of those people while the list has become ever more inclusive. Could be just coincidence, but it does hurt my feelings. My current pastor goes out of his way to be friendly to me and the Other J and the cynical part of me wonders if it's because they don't want to lose our tithe. This is why in churches, in my humble opinion, the staff should have absolutely no clue as to who is giving what. Otherwise, even if it's not the case, there is always the possibility that someone may think that they are being treated differently based on their giving. Why are pastors so afraid of me or awkward with me? Why? Why? Why? It's good I'm having a music bug moment. I think I'll get my guitar out and sing. The music will work it out. It's therapy; a balm to my soul.