Dear friends,
As a church musician, it is not rare to attend a funeral for someone whom you do not know. Typically, though, I do not sit in the balcony among a congregation full of people I know and love. I was amazed today by the sanctuary that Kathryn Campbell, Jack Rinke, Zuri, Evan Rail, Karin VanDeun, and John Heineman created for the family and friends of Rick Buss who were gathered. From my seat in the balcony, Zuri could have sung "Three Blind Mice" and John could have read a Dr. Seuss book and Jack could have played "Chopstix,"
and I still would have received an amazing gift of hope and peace from just their being there, from their spirit shining through their presence alone, from the sincerity of their sharing themselves. When I say to you sometimes, "Be the vowel. Be the sound. Live in the sound. Let it get all over you." -- it is because of what we all experienced this morning from those whose very presence radiated a profound, transforming message. Then, everyone else who was here to receive their gift was able to leave, feeling more fully alive. WOW! And, afterward, we could hug one another with an intensified sense of compassion and conviction, with magnified gratitude and grace that our time in the shadow helped to enlighten and inspire.
While experience with death casts a heavy shadow on life, there can only be a shadow because there is a persistent light which is somehow being obstructed. Many will come to this sanctuary on Sunday at 4:00 (as they do each and every week, by the way), more aware of the obstructions and shadows in the world than the light which seems too distant, too dim, too unapproachable. We have an opportunity whenever we share music to be light-- not just to sing about it. We have the opportunity to be the difference between day and night-- not just sing about it. We have the opportunity to heal-- not just sing about it.
Come be Christmas this week. Come be light. Come be together. Come be love. Come be loved. Come. Be.
Grace and peace,
TT
