| This Is My Story; This Is My Song Except for a couple of hiatuses, I’ve been a churchgoer my entire life. I began as a member of the Church of Christ, baptized into the congregation that still sits on my late grandfather’s land in rural Alabama. Although I loved the a cappella singing of hymns in four-part harmony, I didn’t cotton to that church’s theology—so I found my solace in the music. My Uncle Joe, our song leader, took notice of my voice, encouraged my singing, and invited me to help him choose music and even to lead singing occasionally. This was my first foray into church leadership. When I went away to college, my fraternity visited a different church each Sunday. I soon determined that my favorite was the First United Methodist Church. I loved the historic old building with its octagonal sanctuary, high vaulted ceilings, and stained-glass windows. I loved the messages from the preacher; this was the first church where I ever heard the phrase, “God is love.” Mainly, though, as with the church of my upbringing, I was drawn to the music. A grand piano, an organ, and sometimes other instruments supported the full choir—and they wore robes! I heard tunes familiar and new, their sounds swelling to fill that grand old space. I felt myself singing out more enthusiastically than ever. A lady in front of me turned around one Sunday as church ended and said, “You need to be in the choir!” I don’t know whether she said anything to him, but pretty soon, the choir director invited me to attend choir practice. He declared me a bass and seated me right next to section leader Pat Fagan. I was hooked at that first practice. Pat found a choir robe in my size and I began singing with the First Methodist choir every Sunday. Soon, the director gave me some solos and I joined the church’s small acting company where I landed some roles in musical theatre productions. I was in heaven. Several years later, I changed jobs and moved to South Carolina, where I became Dean of Admissions at a small Lutheran college. I didn’t know much about Lutherans; however, it seemed important that I learn quickly in order to perform my job well, so I read the Small Catechism and started visiting Redeemer Lutheran Church in the quaint college town of Newberry. Gloria, my secretary, was a member of the choir there and she pretty much dragged me to choir practice with her. The music was very similar to that of the Methodists and I fit into the choir easily. The choir director was also a music professor at the college, which led to some on-campus singing opportunities for me. From South Carolina, my career path took me next to Atlanta, where the welcoming reputation of Saint Mark’s United Methodist Church on Peachtree Street called me to return to Methodism. I soon made many friends there, joined the choir, and became part of the church’s weekly cabaret night. I was a member of Saint Mark’s for nearly 10 years before changing my life entirely and moving to Santa Fe, New Mexico. That’s where I found the Church of Religious Science—a truly different theology for me, based on the Science of Mind and the work of Ernest Holmes. The music at this unusual church housed in a former car dealership consisted of a flamboyant pianist whose genre comprised jazz, blues, and Broadway showtunes. Before long, I was on stage next to her, singing all those familiar songs. Once again, as with the church of my childhood, I wasn’t sure about the theology, but the music sustained my spiritual appetite. While living in Santa Fe, I fell in love with David, the man who’s been my husband for nearly 26 years. He lived in El Paso at the time, so we had a commuter relationship for 18 months before I moved in with him. Mostly Catholic, El Paso’s church offerings evaded me, but two years later, wemoved to Dallas for David’s job promotion and I tiptoed into the world of Metropolitan Community Churches when my friend Reverend Dr. Cindi Love began the MCC of Greater Dallas, an offspring of the famous Cathedral of Hope. Following my pattern, I became involved in the music department right away. The first Sunday that I had a solo, I looked out into the audience and saw David sitting there. Being raised Buddhist, he had declared to me that church was not for him—but there he was. And there he stayed, Sunday after Sunday for the rest of our years in Dallas, for our three years back in El Paso, and then here to Resurrection in May of 2011. The music kept sustaining me, yet this time there was a difference: The theology of Metropolitan Community Churches and its founder Reverend Troy Perry adds to the sustenance. Through all these years of churching, I have often heard that people start going to church for many reasons, but they KEEP GOING to church for one or two reasons: good preaching and good music. We’ve certainly had both of those in great measure here at Resurrection, even in this limbo period approaching two years without a senior pastor. I don’t fancy myself much of a preacher, so I do what I can by exercising my musical muscles here. In my nearly 14 years at Resurrection, I’ve enjoyed so many opportunities to sing, from Broadway revues to Drag Bingo to Pride parades, to concert musicals to weddings and funerals, to Good Fridays, Maundy Thursdays, Easters, Christmas Eves, and seven hundred Sunday mornings. So yes, our music sustains me. More than performance, for me it’s an experience of worship. Literally, I can often feel myself being lifted, out of my body, held up by an unseen, intangible power, floating. Sometimes I hear sounds coming out of my mouth that I didn’t know I could make or getting through a piece of music that had seemed so difficult in rehearsal. Sometimes I wonder how it is that I am able to even do this—especially at times I’d rather stay in bed or be on vacation. My best guess: It’s a gift. God blesses me with the gift of music so I can be sustained and assured in a world of uncertainty, and so that I can give it to others who need, want, crave that same sustenance and assurance. “Blessed Assurance”—the song that has awakened me every morning for years—tells me who and why I am and that I am loved and cherished no matter what, no matter where. Whether everything around me crumbles or flourishes, I can just sing and all is right, all is joyful, all is divine. Sustaining the notes, |
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| Van English Worship Arts Department Resurrection Choir Pastoral Search Committee |