Latin Mass at St. Patrick in San Francisco

Sanctus sanctus sanctus dominus deus sabaoth Pleni sunt caeli et terra gloria tua. Holy, holy, holy lord God of hosts, Heaven and earth are full of your glory.

Two things that were new to me: Singing as part of a regular series of weekly Latin mass, and singing in a church building with a placard on the outside that reads, "This building has been seismically retrofitted to reduce the risk of death or injury in the event of a major earthquake..."

The tradition of having mass in Latin does not go back to the days of Jesus, but does go back to the days of Constantine, and spread along with Christianity. Discontinuing its general use was part of Luther's reformation in the 16th century. For Roman Catholics, its general use ended much later, as a result of the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s. However, St. Patrick Catholic Church, 756 Mission St. in San Francisco, is still working hard to keep this tradition alive. Another thing that was new to me and will require a lot more practice: they actually use Gregorian musical notation, both on some sheet music and in the book with the order of worship.

My job brought me to San Francisco for the American Geophysical Union conference, and after some attempts at contacting other churches at which to sing on December 20, I found that St. Patrick is very close to the conference site, the Moscone Center. However, I was able to attend the pre-mass rehearsal and only the first 15 minutes of the mass, after which I needed to leave to catch a flight back to Michigan.

I was welcomed by a very small but mighty all-male group of singers--the photo shows the entire group plus the organist. Chris is the interim director, although it seemed that there was a large amount of direction by committee, especially trying to bring me up to speed with the music in a short amount of time.

I'll again define some terms that came up in a previous post. In liturgical talk, 'ordinary' used as a noun refers to the parts of the mass or worship service that are always used, or nearly so. This choir didn't bother rehearsing these, as they already know them. 'Proper,' used as a noun, means things that are used only for one Sunday, the fourth Sunday in Advent in this case. The main thing that we did that was a proper was a Gregorian chant based on Isaiah 45:8 and Psalm 18. We also did a setting of 'Ave Maria' and rehearsed a plainchant of 'Veni veni Emanuel' or 'O Come O Come Emanuel,' as well as some singing in English, whose title I didn't get around to writing down.

In retrospect, a particular feature of my experience at this church was that a lot of action occurred in a short amount of time, so that within the first 15 minutes of the mass, I heard a lot of music in Latin. 'Veni veni Emanuel' was skipped altogether without my even anticipating that it was coming; I think that Christmas is coming this week anyway.

Also quite unusual was the physical setup of the choir. St. Patrick is a rather large and elaborate Catholic church. The balcony in the back covers the entire width of the building, but is quite shallow and bare. The main thing there is the organ console with the organ pipes above. There are a couple of additional small benches there, but they weren't used. Instead, the small choir crowds around the organ console, in part because the main source of light in the balcony is lamps placed on the console. A short person would have difficulty looking over the top of the console to see their music.

The Latin Mass Choir of St. Patrick is a small group with much musical talent, who are very dedicated to a niche style of worship that connects people back to the church of about 1700 years ago. Although there was a respectable turnout of parishioners for this mass, this group is struggling to keep their tradition alive.

Another humorous experience occurred on my way to this church on Sunday morning. I passed by the Macy's store on Union Square in San Francisco, and people were gathering outside the door. It became apparent that they were evacuating because of an emergency. Pretty soon Santa Claus made good his escape, too, and after another minute or so, I started hearing the sirens of a fire truck.

Latin Mass at

Leaping into a challenge

Des sich wundert alle Welt:
Gott solch Geburt ihm bestellt.
At this the whole world wonders,
That God has ordained such a birth.


The choir of First Baptist Church at 517 E. Washington in Ann Arbor has several very important assets--a good director and back-up director, an excellent accompanist, and the financial wherewithal to pay section leaders and hire a small orchestra to accompany them on this particular Sunday morning. Nevertheless, for a group of amateur singers, taking on a challenging piece can feel like driving toward the precipice of a cliff, hoping that it will all work out. With the work of singers and instrumentalists and some help from commentary by Pastor Paul Simpson Duke, it all did work out, and served as spiritual preparation for Christmas.

The commercial sector sometimes helps to confuse churches regarding the difference between Advent, the time of anticipation and preparation for Christmas, and Christmas itself. Choral performances by groups in advance of Christmas, sometimes well in advance, also contribute to this. But First Baptist today built their entire service around the Advent music of "Savior of the Nations, Come," or in German, "Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland."

I sat in the choir loft at the rear of the church, close enough to reach through the grating and touch the organ pipes, albeit at risk of the swell box baffles closing on my hand. The service started with a prelude based on "Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland," with the oboe stop singing it right in my ear. I have attended this church before, and have heard much talk about the skills of organist Joel Hastings. He definitely showed the organ who is boss today. Some of his organ work might be described as antics, and brought big smiles to the faces of the university students who were brought in as the orchestra. One example is that he twisted the cliche of modulating the key up a half step when going on to a new stanza; instead, he did it going into the refrain of "Angels We Have Heard on High." If you are not a professional musician and don't get the musical joke here, you're excused.

In addition to being played as the prelude and offertory, "Savior of the Nations Come" was also sung as a congregational hymn and served as the theme of the centerpiece of this service, the cantata "Nun Komm der Heiden Heiland" by Johann S. Bach, BWV 62, which took the place of the sermon. Under the baton of Brandon Straub, the cantata featured an aria performed by tenor section leader Kyle Tomlin and another performed by bass/bari section leader Brian Rosenblume, as well as a duet recitative performed by soprano section leader Bonnie Kidd and alto section leader Lucy Thompson, along with two movements from the full chorus.

In his commentary that introduced and interjected into the cantata, Pastor Paul Duke drew on the theme of connections to Christian believers of past eras--this tune dates back to a Latin hymn of the 4th century, then was set in German by Martin Luther in the 16th century and made into a cantata by Bach in the 18th century and is still with us. He noted that Bach always wrote at the end of his pieces "S.D.G.," the song of the angels of Christmas, for "soli dei gloria" or "to God alone be the glory." He highlighted the theme of wonder that occurs throughout the cantata, and pointed out the juxtaposition of Jesus as a baby and as a heroic athlete or warrior--"Be strength to us who are weak, Our human weakness make strong! We honor this glory And draw near now to your cradle." This is reflected in the bass aria by the full-throated vocals accompanied by a high-pitched whisper on some flute stops of the organ, as well as a dancing obbligato on the cello, performed by Madeline Huberth.

This performance was preceded by a Thursday evening rehearsal struck through with anxiety. The Bach score is not easy, and there were plenty of kinks to work out at the beginning of rehearsal. Working through the seemingly conflicting goals of knowing what you should be singing right now and watching the director to know exactly when you should be doing it is a problem that dogs all choirs, and is generally solved simply by working--repetition and getting serious about knowing your part. A lot of that was happening at this rehearsal.

Because Mr. Straub was absent for another musical commitment, rehearsal was led by Bonnie Kidd, who also does choral directing at Huron High School and at the middle school level. This background shows in her style of talking and leading a rehearsal. She is someone who does not so much command attention as cajole attention, such as when she corrected pronunciation by saying that the German article "dem" is pronounced just like the misogynistic term used by the sailors in Rogers and Hammerstein's song "There is Nothing Like a Dame."

At the end of rehearsal we sang and ate cake to celebrate the birthday of choir member John Reed (photo), the former Dean of the University of Michigan School of Law, and who also spent some years directing this choir. Friday was his 91st birthday.

Members speak for themselves at LDS

Although they frequently bring up the names of leaders at national and international level of their church, at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (LDS, also known as Mormons), most of the leadership of the worship experience was doled out to ordinary members. In some cases there was a show of nerves and of emotion, but they got their message across from a real people's perspective.

In the introductory post of this blog, I mentioned that part of the purpose of the blog is to respond to the documentary film Religulous, created by Bill Maher. The LDS took some of the hardest hits from that movie. For an outsider of a practical mindset to ask, as seems to be the implicit question that Maher pursues, "Do I believe in all of the statements and doctrines that this religious group makes?" is probably less relevant than asking, "Have they made life better for their members and for the world in general?" The latter question will lead to a more charitable, and probably more useful, answer.

My experience at the LDS Church showed little evidence of the the beliefs that Maher attacked and ridiculed most strongly. And, as I said, the worship experience sprang from the grass roots. The sacrament of communion happened near the beginning of the service and was served by a group of teenage and pre-teen boys. Then the longest part of the service consisted of talks by speakers Emilae Bonnaire and Jason Blanchard, members of the Ward (their term for what in other places would be called a congregation or parish).

The themes on which they spoke would appeal to many. They talked about the experiences of being within their church as tools for self-improvement and particularly talked about the home being a place of refuge--a place where good things happen in contrast to the outside world where bad things happen. I'm sure that this is not entirely the experience of many of us, and these speakers also acknowledged that this ideal is sometimes not reached. However, by repeating this theme, they may well have a good measure of success in bringing it into reality.

There was even an illustration taken from ancient Japanese parable, in which students ask a teacher for natural objects which he had described as vehicles for enlightenment. But the students see only their flaws, such as the thorn on the rose. So the teacher took back the rose and gave the student only the thorn, since that was what he concentrated on. See what you want to become and it will point you in the right direction.

Given this practice of having rank-and-file members do the speaking, I am tempted to throw out the word "worship" from what they do, and replace it with something more like "communicate." They brought wisdom from the pew to the pulpit. [I'm not sure whether they call it a pulpit, a lectern, a dais, or something else. But it was cool in that it had a control to quickly adjust the height of it.]

Finally, to the choir. Under the direction of Suzie Stein, this choir does some simple music, but does it well with a short amount of rehearsal. We met 45 minutes before the service, and were told that it was a small group today (it ended up being more than 20), and ran down the list of people who were missing and the reason. Warming up used solfege (syllables corresponding to pitches, such as the descending notes sol fa mi re do), something that doesn't figure prominently in my musical training. For this service, we did "For the Beauty of the Earth," arranged by Brent Jorgenson, accompanied by Karen Madsen on the piano and Carrie Woolley on the violin. Ms. Stein guided the choir through proper placement of consonants at the end of words, and corrected the phrasing as needed. One whisper that I overheard during the rehearsal was "What's a rallentando?" (For the uninitiated, it means to suddenly slow the tempo; ritardando is more of a gradual slowing). With the choir coming from the pews at the proper time and gathering in the chancel, this piece went well during the service. Other music that was in the binders was for the Christmas season, and would be familiar to many people. The other piece that we actually rehearsed was "The Star Carol" from the Alfred Burt Carols.

With each visit, it gets more and more interesting to see what other people do in worship, and this week was another enlightening experience.

Crossing the Divide

What seems to have turned into one of the most substantial divisions among Christian churches, rivaling Catholic/Protestant and liberal/fundamentalist is traditional/contemporary worship style. Not only are the words and style of the music different, but there are certain other trappings that go along with each one. In the traditional style you tend to follow the worship by using books (too much of this last week) while in the contemporary service the participants read from a large projection screen. In the traditional style, a clergy member leads the service, sometimes with a lay person as the assisting minister or lector, while in the contemporary style there is regularly a master of ceremonies-type person, often the minister of music, who does some chatting especially at the beginning of the service and tries to set the tone for the service.

I had seen very little real hybridization of these two styles until this week, when I attended the First United Methodist Church in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. I was there visiting my sister, who recently moved there, over Halloween/All Saints Day weekend. The church is one of the few public buildings in town without a large sculpture of a groundhog painted in a theme to match the function of the building. It is one of those churches in which a nearly square room has its sight line across the diagonal, and one side with a very large stained glass window with a nativity scene. But they put up a modern megachurch-style projection screen next to it and had a praise band next to it. This group actually had a name--Reckless Abandon. Furthermore, they did a lot of their own original music. But there were also hymns in which you had your choice of singing using a hymn book or using just the words on the screen. I have definitely heard the argument that it is easier for newcomers to join in when they have only the words, not the notes, in front of them. Although the Itinerant Chorister often considers himself to be a demographic group of one, I am definitely of the group who actually find it easier to sing along with unfamiliar music when I have the rhythm and pitches notated in addition to the words.

Pastor Jim Pond has a particular way of connecting with his congregation by saying what he knew of them without naming names. An example is when he was providing a Protestant definition of a persons who is helpful to other people as a saint (on All Saints' Day). He said, "As I look out at you, I see many of you who are saints in this way." The sermon used Job 1:6-22 as its text. Job started out being the pride of God's people, but Satan (sometimes translated in the book of Job as "The Accuser") said that it was easy because he was so well protected. Then he essentially made a bet, saying that Job was good because God built a hedge around him and everything went well for him, but if things were to go badly for him, Job would turn against Job. In the next chapter, it says that Job's friends arrived to comfort him, and first did so by standing by him in silence for seven days. Pastor Pond asked who among those there had done something like that, but again went back to saying that he saw people among the congregation who actually had done it.

Another interesting aspect of the service was that the children's sermon included a video giving instructions on preparing a package to send to poor children overseas as part of Operation Christ Child. After this, the children of the church went through to make a collection of money designated for this project.

The lower photo is the Halloween costume that I wore while in Punxsutawney.

Next week: Gone to the Great White North to see polar bears.

Choir in a Big Church Requires Organization

"Cantate Domino canticum novum.
Sing to the Lord a new song."

We sang it like that. The setting of "Cantate Domino" by James Chapponis has it in Latin first, then in English. The choir of St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church, 2250 E. Stadium Blvd. in Ann Arbor, are a dedicated group of singers who take a lot of responsibility for making the right things happen at the right times during the Mass. In the role of a visiting choir member, The Itinerant Chorister did not hold up this part of this duty very well, being overwhelmed by working out of four different books of hymns, liturgy, and propers (this is an ecclesiastical term for the prayers and scripture readings that are particular to that day of the church calendar). There were also photocopied papers of the the sequence of things to happen and of the psalm to be chanted that day. Choir members have canvas tote bags, most of them maroon and printed with "St. Francis of Assisi Choir", for carrying all of their choir related things. I kept my library under my chair and tried my best to pull out the right things at the right time. Along with the notebook that I have to help in writing the blog, as well as my camera, I was greatly burdened with earthly possessions while worshiping at St. Francis.

St. Francis has roughly 8,000 parishioners, likely making it the largest church in Ann Arbor (I welcome corrections on this point), and they thoroughly filled a large building. The building, stylistically, is the counterpoint to St. Lorenz Kirche in Nuremberg, Germany. While St. Lorenz is a Lutheran church that maintains much of the statuary from its ancient Roman Catholic history, St. Francis is a rather austere brick structure with only a few plain-colored statues near the back. The chancel area was decorated with fall-themed items. Believe it or not, this is also the first place on my tour of Ann Arbor-area churches that I heard any mention of college football from the clergy during the service.

In this service, I got to hear for the second consecutive week about "a priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek" (Hebrews 5:6), with less stumbling over that name this week than last. The other lesson was Mark 10:46-52, in which Bartimaeus the blind man yelled for Jesus to help him, and many followers of Jesus told him to be quiet. In the homily by Father John Linden, he asked the parishioners who it is that they find easy to rebuke, and reminded us that was very selective in when to call people to task, and in fact did it when most of the people conventionally considered righteous least expected it.

A few things that struck me during this service were that they had a time to bless all those going trick-or-treating this week, and another time to collect packages of Halloween candy for the less fortunate. Perhaps Halloween candy is not as much a necessity as other things, but one of the great strengths that I see in the Roman Catholic church is their level of care for the earthly needs of people. At other places, on the Sunday before Halloween, they celebrate Martin Luther, and I had to strongly resist the temptation to bring Diet of Worms cake to the Catholic church. Everyone held hands with their neighbor while saying the Lord's Prayer, which for me caused a crisis in which I had to scramble to put down the book in my hands; I had managed to cut down to holding only one book at that time. However, soon after that, I forgot about the fairly large book on my chair and sat right on it. Also, they inducted an adult member through confirmation during the mass--someone I know, as it turned out.

Much of the music in the mass had a modern feel to it, notably the closing hymn, "Lift Up Your Hearts," accompanied by Tom Kean on the organ and Evelyn Scheutte on the piano. The liturgy featured leadership by Cantor Diane Herstein. And this service also featured the bell choir, directed by Ginnie Birchler, playing "Holy Manna" arranged by Margaret Tucker and "Declare the Maker's Praise" by Joseph Daniel.

Going chronologically backward, rehearsal was where the organizational skills of the choir leadership showed up. Director Tom Kean is very methodical about rehearsal, and gives very precise instructions. At one point in the rehearsal, he demonstrated the way that most people had been doing a particular rhythm in one piece of the liturgy and said, "That is so close to being correct." The notes that I took then don't remind me of what the error was, but I think it was the difference between two sixteenth notes followed by an eight note and vice-versa. Tom pays close attention to make sure that members are enunciating their vowels well, even practicing by singing only vowel sounds. And he does a lot of rehearsing only two of the voice parts singing at once, but I think he went through all of the possible pairings at different times. Adding to the level of organization, music librarian Ralph (didn't catch his last name) keeps close tabs on what music is needed and what is out, and it is all put into music packages. This choir has excellent representation by men; at one point while the group were still arriving for rehearsal, I counted 13 men and 6 women.

At an intermediate chronological point, I was to go to the choir's Halloween party on Saturday night. I put on my costume, which was intended to be a wolfman, but because of a not-really-right wig and hair stuck to my face in tufts, turned out to be more of a wolfman-cum-Klingon-cum-hippie, and headed over. However, I didn't have the instructions right, and rang into the actual condo where the hosts live, when in fact it was in the common room across the way within the complex. I had the phone number, but being a reluctant cell phone user, didn't have the cell with me and went out in search of a pay phone. I fought my way through the very crowded Fraser's Pub (about an hour and a half after the football game ended) in all my wolfman-Klingon glory to a pay phone that didn't work. I found another pay phone up the street, but of course had no luck because I was trying to call the wrong place. I found out the problem the next morning, when it was too late.

Next week: Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania

Choir as Community

"To our Lord we sing returning
Home to our blue-green hills of earth."

The choir of King of Kings Lutheran Church, 2685 Packard Rd. in Ann Arbor, are a group who really enjoy being a group, and I don't think they are faking that. Their rehearsal is filled with a lot of joking around. They have a good time, and even though they sometimes need to be reminded by director Lois Miller of when they should be singing in harmony and when they should be singing in unison, they have more than enough talent and heart to deliver a performance that connects with their small congregation and makes a positive impact.

Without this being my intention, I happened to be with this group on a week in which they had a party, something that they do every month. Therefore, in addition to Wednesday evening rehearsal, on Saturday evening they had a potluck dinner followed by rehearsal. One member said that sometimes they rehearse first, then eat, and I thought, "Wow! They have managed to avoid becoming creatures of habit! This is an incredible group!" The party was hosted at the home of Melissa and Chris House, so the obvious joke was used repeatedly: It's at the House house. Because this choir has a significant representation of the under-40 demographic (although there are also several older members), there were quite a few young children at this party. Following friendly conversation over food and drink, plus singing church music, they pulled out "The Beatles: Rock Band" video game. I was a novice at this, but tried doing my best Ringo, and managed to break one of the special drum sticks that is part of the game set. Later, after several people had left, I was the only one left standing who had a good idea of how to sing "While My Guitar Gently Weeps", so I got that duty. The toughest part was the nonsense syllables at the end.

As in my visit to Northside Community Church three weeks ago, this is a small church, and things are informal. The attire is casual, some people sat sipping coffee and tea, and the sanctuary is designed as an open room with nothing bolted to the floor--seating, altar, lectern, and baptism font are all movable.

Announcements came first in the service, with various people simply standing up in order to be recognized to give an announcement. A short while into the service, Pastor Michael Ryan said, "Are you guys ready?" The significance of this was lost on me for a couple of seconds, but kids started gathering at the center of the room, and it became obvious that the children's sermon was beginning. The question of what things makes the kids feel special or important quickly led to kids telling random stories about what their parents do at work and at home, while simultaneously some girls were whipping their long hair around, and kids were taking their shoes off and crawling around with their shoes on their hands. When shoes started flying through the air, Pastor Michael said, "I'm going to cut my losses and stop," and then handed out Halloween-decorated cups. Communities like this church are able to forgive when things start to get crazy during their church service.

Soon after that came something that I did much in past times as a Lutheran, but not much in recent times--we chanted a section of Psalm 91. Soon afterward came the sermon, in which the disciples James and John wanted to be considered to be the greatest among the followers of Jesus. Pastor Michael said that in the Gospel of Mark, the disciples are often dense, and in this case, they didn't get the message that they had been given, creating a teachable moment for Jesus. The sermon boiled down to people in times of uncertainty going back to their accustomed ways, and asking us to examine what those ways are for us.

One thing that might impress a visitor most at King of Kings is the passing of the peace, in which people shake hands with each other. In this room of maybe about 60 people, it seemed that many of them made a full pass around the room to pass the peace to everyone. This took some time, and was both preceded and followed by liberal use of hand sanitizer. Following that, during the collection of the offering, the choir sang the anthem for this week, "Blue Green Hills of Earth" by Kim Oler and Carl Strommen, with a solo performed by Deanna Hicks.

Emerging trends: small churches have a large proportion of their members singing in their choirs, children's sermons somehow involve shoes, choirs want more members, and something that I had nearly forgotten from my childhood--choirs don't always segregate themselves by sitting in a special area through the whole service.

The Itinerant Chorister/Itinerant Scientist in Bayreuth

After returning from Germany, I've had a nasty combination of being very busy as well as sick. I had a cold when I returned, and thought it was getting better during the couple of days that I spent in Ann Arbor. Then I had to travel to Madison, WI, and it got worse. I didn't sing in any church choir this past weekend.

I'm finally getting around to a few more of my experiences in Germany. The real reasons why I was there are work-related, with my duties being in Bayreuth. Bayreuth has two main celebrities from the past. The one who is likely more familiar to most was Richard Wagner. They have the annual Bayreuth Festival that features his operas. The other was Margravine Wilhelmina. She was the Princess of Prussia, daughter of King Friedrich Wilhelm I and lived from 1709 to 1758, and she married Friedrich, Margrave of Bayreuth. They had palaces in Bayreuth called Altes Schloss and Neues Schloss, and nearby outside of town, the Hermitage. They also built the Margravine Opera House. This is a separate, smaller venue than the Festspielhaus in which the Wagner Festival is held. But it is a very impressive building for the rococo decorations (see photos of the front and rear of the house), and as part of the Bayreuth Baroque Festival, they had performances in this location while I was there.

What I saw was apparently a fairly obscure work called "L'Huomo" by Andrea Bernasconi, with libretto by Margravine Wilhelmina herself. The title translates as "The Man." The Man was played by a woman, as was one other male character. The lowest voice part of any of the solo roles was a countertenor. It started out as a story of two people in love, and placed in a highly circumscribed world, with only themselves along with supernatural beings. As such, it reminded me of one of my favorite musicals, "The Fantasticks." But the man was taken away by temptation and the woman by force. Then it stayed this way for way too long, the second act being sort of a slow-motion chase scene, and finally the two got back together again and the chorus came out with sunshine masks on their faces, and the show ended. This story was probably not very exciting even in the 18th century, but it really was an experience to go and see the show there.

My accommodations were at the Hotel Goldener Anker, built in 1753 and still under ownership by the same family. It is only a few doors up from the Margravial Opera House. One photo shows the room key with the ornate fob affixed to it at a 90-degree angle, making it too cumbersome to carry in your pocket. The other photo shows the 18th century-style uniform that the staff wear, with the rack behind where one leaves the key when not in the hotel.

Gottesdienst in Nürnberg

"Nun danket alle Gott,
Mit Herzen, Mund, und Händen."
"Now thank we all our God,
With hearts and hands and voices."

[Note to those joining from AnnArbor.com: Sorry that I didn't get the piece posted there until late, because I didn't have all my instructions down. The piece here, minus photos, was posted on Sunday. I am now back in Ann Arbor (8 pm Monday), albeit jetlagged.]

Here in Germany, they call it Gottesdienst. Sunday church services are known as "God´s service." Today, I attended what seemed to be a rather normal service in a building that is well outside my normal experience. St. Lorenz Kirche has a distance of perhaps 50 yards between the organ console near the front and the main set of pipes in a loft in the back; it requires about a sixth of a second for the sound to get back to the organist. Nevertheless, other than the language and the building, truly almost everything was familiar to me.

First, why am I here in Nuremberg? Actually, there is a certain amount of confidentiality surrounding this trip. Suffice it to say that it is for reasons related to my day job as a climate scientist, with a couple of extra days of enjoyment added on.

Back to die Kirche. My German is very rusty and was not all that good to start with, particularly in the area of listening comprehension. But between having a few days to get in some practice, and the pastor at this church, whose name I didn´t hear or read, speaking in slow and clear German, I understood far more than in any other context on this trip. St. Lorenz started as a Roman Catholic church from its construction, which started in 1250, and retains much of the decoration, statuary, and iconography that is associated with that tradition, but it switched to the Evangelical Lutheran Church at the time of Luther´s Reformation. The feel and tone of the service was much like that of a modern congregation of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, even featuring a female pastor. Despite the stories that are told of large European churches standing nearly empty on Sunday mornings, the pews were nearly filled today, including quite a few younger people. There was also the baptism of an infant named Hanne Siegler, if I heard correctly.

The choirs at St. Lorenz rotate duty from week to week. This week the service featured the Bachchor (the link is entirely in German; try using this to translate), touted as having over 100 members, although I don´t think there were quite as many today. It is led by Kantor Matthias Ank. Their part in the service was extensive. Keeping with the theme of things in Nuremberg being familiar, they sang the above-quoted "Nun danket alle Gott," by J. S. Bach, familiar to me both in German and in the English translation. They also did "Jesus Bleibet Meine Freude," known in English as "Jesu, Joy of Man´s Desiring" (Bach again) and, in English, "O Taste and See How Gracious the Lord Is" by Vaughan Williams.

Viel Dank zur St. Lorenz Kirche für den Besuch. Ich hoffe wieder zu besuchen.

I hope to add a few photos to this later. Watch also for posts of my experience in Bayreuth (I went to the city of Richard Wanger, but saw an obscure Italian baroque opera), and traveling in business class. Next week, I will be in Madison, Wisconsin, and might try to post on my experiences there.

Grusse aus Nuernberg

This will be a very quick draft post regarding a concert last night at St. Lorenz Kirche in Nuremberg before going to the Sunday morning service there.

I heard the Braunschweiger Domchor (cathedral choir of Braunschweig) in the cavernous space of St. Lorenz. I am quite certain that they are a largely, if not completely, amateur church choir who are on tour. They do some tough music (toughest harmonically was probably the Nystedt that they did) and do it with precise diction, not sparing the consonants in the least. A few organ pieces were also provided by the resident organist of St. Lorenz. The most moving part for me was actually the encore, at which point the choir finally put down their books and sang a little more directly to the audience.

This is coming from the public terminal in the lobby of the NH Hotel in Nuremberg. As a touch typist, I am having a little difficulty with the fact that on German keyboards, the positions of y and z are reversed.

Coming up, a little more about the Braunschweiger Domchor, Sunday service at St. Lorenz, the Bayreuth Opera House, and The Itinerant Chorister/Itinerant Scientist flies in Business Class. Also, later than that, photos.

Neither height nor depth, nor dogs nor trains will separate this church

"Leave all things you have and come and follow me."

One of my good friends is an enthusiast of Bouvier dogs. I never expected this to enter into the Itinerant Chorister blog, but nevertheless...on my arrival for rehearsal on Thursday evening at Northside Community Church (929 Barton Drive in Ann Arbor), I was greeted by choir member Jeff Yeargain with, "Oh, we thought you were the accompanist." Although I play piano, I am not as good as the professionals who accompany most church choirs, and it's not part of the Itinerant Chorister program. After some waiting and the start of the rehearsal, accompanist Kathryn Goodson showed up with her Bouvier named Ruby, and relaying a story of hustling to get there on foot. Meanwhile, Ruby lay on the floor and panted.

Churches are a way in which people can break down a rather large city into a more manageable community. For some, what works best is a small church. One thing is for sure: Northside has an unusually large proportion of its members singing in the choir. In fact, it was remarked at the beginning of the service that choir members actually outnumbered the people sitting in the congregation. I assure you that this was literally true at that time, although more people showed up a little later.

The choir is led by Mary Ellen Hegel and is quite well balanced between men and women, although tenors are sparse. It is also notable for featuring local operatic bass Chris Grapentine, who is also the pastor of the church. My left ear is still ringing from standing right next to him. At the Thursday night rehearsal, with the presence of Rev. Grapentine, Mr. Yeargain, myself, and some others, and the absence of tenor Al Clark, this choir would have been very difficult to beat in terms of the average height of the men's section.

This choir takes on some interesting music, and this week featured "Two Fishermen," written by S. Toolan and arranged by William Rowan; Ms. Hegel got a copy of the hand manuscript directly from this local composer-arranger. Solos in this piece were performed by Sue Wuster and Jeff Yeargain. The choral anthem came early in the service, after which the choir dispersed into the congregation, giving a good boost to the congregational hymns.

Prayer is something that is emphasized at this church, and they accepted oral prayer requests from the congregation in preparation for prayer. These requests were a combination of joys and sorrows. The prayers were punctuated by a train whistle, which took me by surprise, even though the church is only a block from the Ann Arbor Railroad's grade crossing on Barton Drive. I have spent a dozen years living only three blocks from that track, and a couple of earlier years being separated only by a small pond, and have learned that trains almost never travel on that track during the day.

The children's sermon was only partially foiled by the lack of children willing to come forward. It only takes an average-sized adult, rather than a child, to look out of place wearing Rev. Grapentine's shoes, graphically illustrating the metaphor of walking in someone else's shoes. This was drawing attention to the needs of others and promoting Ann Arbor's upcoming CROP Walk.

Given the "Come and follow me" message of the choir's anthem, I was expecting a Bible reading and sermon about fishers of men, but the theme was the first one or two of the ten commandments (I'll let others argue about where the first ends and the tenth begins, but I find it remarkable that everyone seems to agree that there are ten of them). Idol worship--the cliche is that the modern type of this is the worship of money, but sports, arts, music, and the self were also mentioned here. However, the one image of god that is allowable is humans themselves, so "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's" (Matthew 22:21) means to give of yourself.

The final hymn was "God Hath Spoken by the Prophets" in f minor. I would like to report that the service ended with a Picardy third at the end of this hymn. However, the true ending of the service came only after the congregation had stayed to listen to the postlude performed by Kathryn Goodson. A congregation that does this values its music.

Next week: St. Lorenz Kirche, Nuremberg, Germany

Week One--First Presbyterian Church

No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging.
Since I believe that love abides,
How can I keep from singing?

This week, I visited a very accomplished church choir in Ann Arbor and was not disappointed--First Presbyterian Church at 1432 Washtenaw Avenue. I was greeted warmly by this choir, although it doesn't hurt that nearly half of them are people whom I already knew.

At their Thursday evening rehearsal, they cover a lot of music and do it quite well on the first try. Especially impressive is their phrasing, and they also do well at tone and pitch. Shepherding them through all of this is director Susan Boggs and several section leaders, including in my bass section Dorian Hall and Gerry Leckrone. For this Sunday, we prepared "When Peace Like a River," arranged by Dale Grotenhuis, and "How Can I Keep From Singing," arranged by Gweneth Walker. The latter has some tricky rhythms, and was a little rough for me the first time through, but the second time was far better, and by the sixth time, I wondered why it seemed difficult. Still, I anticipate that this might be one of the most challenging pieces that I sing during the Itinerant Chorister project.

At one point during rehearsal, a choir member was asking for another try at a bit of the music, and then asked to practice the transition from the preceding music. Susan, the director, said, "OK, let's go back," and immediately accompanist Carol Muehlig started playing some earlier measures to put them into people's ears, before getting instructions from Susan. She knew Susan's wish before she even said it, and played the correct few measures.

Rehearsal also ranged over several pieces of music for future Sundays, and included a bit of Mendelssohn's Elijah, which will be performed by this choir in May. Rehearsal concluded with announcements, which covered a variety of things that indicated a range of interests among the group. There were some musical events, personal invitations, fundraisers for other organizations, and one that I couldn't hear very well that seemed to be asking for driving directions to somewhere. Then came a key question: Who will sing at the 9:30 service this Sunday? I raised my hand along with many others, although I didn't entirely anticipate the follow-up question, which was, Who will sing at the 11:00 service? Thus, I ended up volunteering to sing at both services.

Sunday morning, September 20, the choir arrived and spread themselves across the chancel on the pew pads decorated with cross-stitched pictures of Biblical scenes and choirs singing. After warming up and processing in, we got to the business of worship on "University Sunday." We prayed out of thankfulness for intellect and learning. We heard the Biblical passage from Acts 10 about Peter evangelizing to Cornelius, making the Christian faith extend to non-Jews. Both the children's sermon by Resident Minister Sarah Wiles and the sermon by Rev. Julie Marks made a metaphorically linked the divide between Jews and Gentiles in the first century with a generation gap. The children were asked to contrast themselves with their parents and a list of facts were read to the congregation regarding the environment in which today's University freshmen grew up. Born in 1991, they have never used a card catalog to find a library book, always lived in a time when Margaret Thatcher was a former Prime Minister, and McDonald's has been in China for their entire lives. Although these things make them alien beings to many of the members of the church, they are people who are subject to the love of God and are neighbors.

First Presbyterian has implemented a policy of not touching each other to pass the peace or when leaving the church sanctuary, instituted this Sunday with the onset of flu season. See the story from NPR's Morning Edition. Today, this elicited a combination of serious concern and nervous chuckling. At one point, I realized that right at my feet where I was sitting were a 2-liter bottle of hand sanitizer (mostly empty) and a fire extinguisher, and I also realized that there was a box of matches in the hymnal rack. I couldn't help but think that if there had also been a vial of live H1N1 virus, everything would have canceled out.

Notes to self for future weeks: BYO pencil to rehearsal. Bring the camera, but don't be too obtrusive with it. Be alert to when you're going to be singing during the service, so that it doesn't happen when you're scribbling notes, causing you to abruptly stand up and loudly drop your pen on the pew (a pen that drops more quietly might be good, too). And know about logistical issues--where to get a service bulletin (I stumbled on them by accident), where to get a hymnal (luckily they had a stash of them in the narthex while I waited to process in), and how to get a robe that no one else is using (despite myself and a few others anticipating this, there were still problems).

Next week: Northside Community Church

Week zero--Zion Lutheran Church

I have ordinarily been a member of the Chancel Choir of Zion Lutheran Church in Ann Arbor, and when I decided to embark on the Itinerant Chorister project, I offered Minister of Music Rob Meyer first dibs on a few Sundays throughout the year when I would plan to be there. His first choice was Sunday, September 13. Because much of the activity in this church is scheduled around the academic year, the Sunday after Labor Day has been known as Rally Sunday. However, in order to play down the idea that things in the church seriously slow down during the summer, and important things only happen at other times of the year, the name was changed to Celebration Sunday. However, the front of the church bulletin says Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost. I have to admit that it might be hard for the First through Fourteenth Sundays after Pentecost to excite people enough to drop their summer weekend activities and go to see the green paraments in the chancel.

In my experience, choirs are groups in which jokesters hang out, some of them very funny, some pretty corny. One bit of humor on this occasion was actually the director, reminding us (I had heard this joke before) that the Bible is a book of baseball, as evidenced by its first words being "In the big inning..."

Celebration Sunday was a big deal, and Zion's big deal worship forces were on hand for both the 8:15 and 9:30 services. In addition to the Chancel Choir and the organ, which are more usual, there was also a brass quintet and the Bell Choir. Despite that, one of the stirring bits was spoken at the very beginning (big inning) of the service, with some riffs on the handbells interspersed--Let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation! Let us kneel before the Lord our maker! Psalm 95:1,6

A music-related point within the sermon by Pastor Mike Walters was that making music and singing is a type of teaching--putting the words of faith into the ears of those listening, as well is into our own hearts. The theme of the sermon was teaching, in preparation for commissioning those who were teaching classes for children and adults and serving other roles in the church. Those who were there as musicians for the two services were commissioned twice.

The choir worked harder than usual, doing three songs. Two of those were choral sections of hymns with the congregation joining for much of them--Praise to the Lord, the Almighty and Lift High the Cross. Each of these featured the brass quintet as well. The times when I was growing up that I remember singing the latter hymn were all on Easter during communion time. Maybe we sang it at other times, too. The centerpiece that the choir sang that day was new to us, Sing to the Lord a New Song, with text from Psalm 96, composed and arranged by John Behnke for choir, organ, and handbells.

It was an exciting send-off from my home base into the actual Itinerant Chorister project. This week--First Presbyterian Church of Ann Arbor.

What is an Itinerant Chorister and why?--repost

This is a re-post of my blog entry from August 23, for the sake of those looking in response to my posting on AnnArbor.com. Enjoy this and come back frequently.

Hi to all.

This is to introduce my blog, the plan that lies behind it, its purpose, and myself.

The basic plan is this: During September 2009-May 2010, I will be visiting a lot of places of worship in the vicinity of Ann Arbor, Michigan. When possible, I intend to rehearse with the choir and sing with them during a regular worship service.

The purpose of the blog: All of the contents of this blog will consist of my opinion, although in many cases a self-censored subset of my opinion. I will basically try to project the positive parts of the experiences that I have at various places of worship and what emphasis they lay on different aspects of spirituality. One of the ideas that I want to develop in describing the music and worship that I experience will be a "balanced diet" of spiritual experience. Another idea that I hope to develop is "voicing hope." In part, I want to respond to the movie "Religulous," produced by Bill Maher. While Maher levels criticisms against a variety of religions that sometimes hit home, I will try to focus on things about religion that are positive regardless of the literal truth behind the doctrines of faith that are involved. The idea that voicing hope, through song or otherwise, is one of these positive things is a founding principle behind this project and this blog. Another thing that I will try to humbly remember is that I will only be visiting for a week at each place, so my statements will reflect a first impression rather than a fully experienced understanding.

About myself: I am not a religious or musical professional. My profession consists of studying climate and water budgets for the Great Lakes basin using computer models and other methods, publishing the results, and dealing with a great variety of people who are interested in these studies. Nevertheless, I have training in religion and music.
My religious training: I was confirmed in 1981 at St. Paul's Lutheran Church of Crookston, Minnesota, after one of the most rigorous confirmation training courses within what is now the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. I took required coursework in religion at Augsburg College. I have participated in a variety of adult classes at the church at which I am currently a member, Zion Lutheran of Ann Arbor, MI, and have been moved by two trips to the Lutheran retreat center known as Holden Village, near Chelan, Washington.
Musical experience and training: In recent years, my singing has focused on Measure for Measure Men's Choral Society, a community men's chorus centered in the Ann Arbor-Ypsilanti area, along with the Chancel Choir of Zion Lutheran. In the past, I was a member of the Augsburg College Choir and several church and school choirs. I have been in a large number of musical theater productions, and recently was a member for a short time of a bicycle choir. I also have experience with several musical instruments, although lately I have concentrated mainly on piano when I have time.

Worship experiences outside the Ann Arbor area: I have written some comments on my worship experiences in the vicinity of Mto wa Mbu, Tanzania, during my trip there that lasted from July 31 to August 13, 2009. I anticipate some trips during the coming year, and expect that I might report on worship in such places as Nuremberg, Germany and San Francisco, California. I may try to make some trips to former locations in my life, such as Augsburg College in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Princeton, New Jersey, Boulder, Colorado, and I'd like to try to get back to Holden Village.

Tanzania week 2

The second week of church in Tanzania was even more exotic than the first. On August 9, we attended the service at Kanisa Baraka--the Church of Blessing. In this case, the name of the little village where it is located is Baraka. This word for 'blessing' has the same source as President Barack Obama's name. See my favorite online Swahili-English dictionary, kamusiproject.org, for more English words that correspond to this word.

Kanisa Baraka has a concrete floor with several large chips taken out of it from considerable use, a corrugated metal roof supported by numerous wooden posts and wooden truss rafters, and walls made of a lattice of sticks covered with cattle dung. This is a church of the Maasai tribe and, being a herding people, dung is one of their primary building materials. Their houses are made of it, too, now usually with a thatch roof, occasionally metal, but more traditionally a complete dome of sticks and dung. The pews in the church consisted of rough wooden benches without backs.

The Swahili language is the language that Tanzanians have in common, at least if they've been to primary school (not all have), possibly learned to read and write, and interact with members of other tribes enough to use Swahili and keep it fresh in their minds. However, most people, especially in rural areas, more often speak a different tribal language. So, although I can follow a little bit in Swahili, this church service left me completely in the dark because it was almost entirely in the Maasai language. However, there were slogans written in Swahili on the wooden parts of the church--the door and the rafters, welcoming and blessing everyone. For them, Maasai is the language of speaking and Swahili is the language of writing.

This is a church that has some historical remove from missionaries from the United States and Europe bringing the Lutheran faith, but follows some of the same forms. One that was brought to another level is the part of the liturgy in which confession and absolution occur. Some Lutheran churches in the US dispense with this; others might or might not have their members kneel on kneelers or possibly the floor, or individuals might do this at their own option. At Kanisa Baraka, they knelt right on the rough concrete floor and put their head down on the bench in front of them, and where there wasn't a bench, right on the floor.

Now, the music. It might not be considered beautiful by the standards of Western church music, but it sends shivers. It is the words of Christian faith, translated into their language and set to the sound and soul of the people of a particular tribe who, in a land that is highly foreign to us, are the people who are foreign to the rest, the outcasts through an interplay of force and choice. Some of it lapses well into the realm of shouting and some amount of it consists of grunts. As someone living here in Ann Arbor, having lived my whole life in the USA, this kind of music is ordinarily not a reflection of my soul, but in the moment of being there among those people who bring it from the depths of their history, yes, it is part of my soul.

They asked our group to sing, and I led them in "We Are Marching in the Light of God." We're not a rehearsed group or even ones used to singing, especially in public, but we did it, it went OK, and we fulfilled an expectation they had of us. Not only among the Maasai, but all Tanzanians, and probably most of Africa, claiming that you don't sing is just plain unheard-of. Some people might be better at it than others, but they all do it. I tried to think of an analog in our American culture--something in which an element of skill distinguishes some people from others, it's not completely essential to survival, and yet everyone is strictly expected to do it. The closest thing that I could think of is talking.

Most of the songs involved some sort of dancing again, but it had less of the feel of formulaic movements inserted into the music, as we saw the previous week at Kanisa Kantate (the city church). Instead, it was more organic, and included the traditional bobbing up and down from their knees and toes (men only). In church, they didn't go to the extreme of the very high jumping that you might have seen. They brought back some of the same songs to repeat them, without any hint of apology for doing that.

I didn't time the service--it was long and meaningful. During the times when we were standing, as tall as I am, I was able to see through the sizable gap between the roof and the top of the wall (strung with barbed wire to keep some medium-sized critters out, possibly including people), and look toward the dusty horizon. Part of that horizon contained the escarpment that marks the edge of the Rift Valley, while in the foreground were often dust devils. Unusually dry conditions have brought Maasai herders from far away, including Kenya more than 100 miles away, to this location near Mto wa Mbu, itself unusually dry, but less so than the places that these herders came from. Many animals are dying and it is likely that human death by starvation will soon accelerate. Compare this with bad times in our country: Among many Tanzanians, in good times, they live in a shack with a dirt floor and eat the simplest of food; in bad times, people starve to death.

After the service, our group sponsored a meal. We had pilau, rice with chunks of beef and some spices. The meal was funded by our group and cooked by our cook, Jackie. (The photo at the top of the post is a poor-quality picture of Jackie. Only one person was allowed to take photos and video in the church, and I haven't received any from that person yet.) We don't trust ourselves to cook safely in that environment, but we trust Jackie. I got a huge serving of pilau, which for sanitary reasons was on a paper plate with a plastic fork; Tanzanians usually eat with their hands. At this point after the service, I would have loved to have had some of the church choir members teach me some of their songs, particularly one that had a call-and-response format, with a male voice doing the call. However, the men all left immediately after getting their food, because of a cultural taboo against men eating in the presence of women. Unfortunately, I didn't actually learn a single song on this trip.

After the meal, we handed out some food for them to keep. Because of the drought, their cattle are giving very meager amounts of milk. We gave them cartons of ultra-pasteurized milk that keeps for a long time--1/2 gallon per family. And also a one kilogram bag of flour per family. This small amount of food was a greatly appreciated gift. Our hearts were left with the feeling of having given these people something that they really needed and appreciated, but at the same time, something that wasn't enough and would only last for a short time.

Worship music in Tanzania

On July 29 through August 14 this year, I traveled with a group of 10 people, all members of Zion Lutheran Church in Ann Arbor, to Tanzania on a mission trip. Our nominal destination and task was to work to improve buildings at the Kirurumu Health Center in Mto wa Mbu, a relatively developed town along the main (blacktopped) road between the regional center in Arusha and the popular tourist destinations of Ngorongoro Crater and the Serengeti Plain. Another tourist attraction right next to Mto wa Mbu is Lake Manyara National Park. This town has electricity, cell phone service, a couple of public places with internet access, and a bustling, active look to it. According to Wikipedia, its population is a little over 16,000.

On August 2, our group attended a church whose name was a combination of Swahili and Latin--Kanisa Kantate, i.e. The Church of Singing, a name to which it lives up well. It is a cinder block structure with a seating capacity of about 400. It has a concrete floor, permanent pews, and a metal railing around the chancel area. Having just played some cards the evening before, I recognized the shapes worked into that railing as being hearts, diamonds, and spades (upside-down hearts). The choir, at about 50 people, was nearly as numerous as the rest of the congregation in attendance, and were accompanied by about 6 guys switching off on guitars and keyboards. The instrumentalists sounded great and the choir sounded and looked great. The biggest difference from most American churches was that for every song, whether a congregational hymn or a choir anthem, the choir did some sort of choreography. It wasn't usually very complicated, but it was done with gusto and panache.

The choir performed a few anthems. I pride myself in knowing more Swahili than my fellow travelers (this was my seventh time in East Africa); I am able to speak certain things in compelte sentences, and pick out bits of speech, but I'm not able to follow everything that's happening when someone is talking (or singing). However, the choir's choreography helped out immensely on one of the anthems. Their actions were highly suggestive that it was based on the text of Matthew 18:9 (or very similar passages elsewhere): "And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell." Not a text that most American church choirs would choose for an anthem, but this group stood up, sang, acted like they were pulling their eyeballs out of their sockets, pitched them away with a sidearm motion, then covered over where the eye had been with one hand, and repeated this on each of about a half-dozen choruses. Other songs had more rhythmic and less narrative choreography, usually involving either the arms or the feet, but not both. Four times they had a collection of money: for the general church fund, for a trip to a contest for the choir, and for a man whose son had been seriously injured. For each of these offerings, there was a hymn, some of which use tunes that will be familiar to many Americans from their churches, but with words in Swahili, and sung in a lilting African style, con portamento molto. And each time, the congregation stood up and walked to the front and center of the church to deposit their offering. This included the choir, who did their choreography all the while.

Some offering items were not money, but goods. They auctioned these off outside after the end of the service in order to liquidate them into cash. One generous soul bid on some potatoes, "elfu moja kwa wageni," meaning "one thousand for the guests." He paid one thousand shillings, or about 75 cents, for these potatoes to give to our group. I also got in on some of the bidding, managing to say "shilingi elfu moja na mia mbili" in order to pay just under a dollar for some corn still attached to the stalks. We ate it later--not sweet corn like we're used to, but tougher field corn that hadn't been ripened to its fully hardened state; it tasted fine.

I am sorry that I do not have any photographs of this experience. Photography is a touchy thing to do for many people there; we had permission for one person to do some videography, so I may later be able to post some footage taken by one of my traveling companions.

This was an exotic experience for those of us from the States, a feast for eyes, ears, and stomach. In my next installment, however, I will talk about the following Sunday, when our church venue was more rustic and possibly less eye-catching, but was an experience that shook body and soul.

What is an Itinerant Chorister and why?

Hi to all.

This is to introduce my blog, the plan that lies behind it, its purpose, and myself.

The basic plan is this: During September 2009-May 2010, I will be visiting a lot of places of worship in the vicinity of Ann Arbor, Michigan. When possible, I intend to rehearse with the choir and sing with them during a regular worship service.

The purpose of the blog: All of the contents of this blog will consist of my opinion, although in many cases a self-censored subset of my opinion. I will basically try to project the positive parts of the experiences that I have at various places of worship and what emphasis they lay on different aspects of spirituality. One of the ideas that I want to develop in describing the music and worship that I experience will be a "balanced diet" of spiritual experience. Another idea that I hope to develop is "voicing hope." In part, I want to respond to the movie "Religulous," produced by Bill Maher. While Maher levels criticisms against a variety of religions that sometimes hit home, I will try to focus on things about religion that are positive regardless of the literal truth behind the doctrines of faith that are involved. The idea that voicing hope, through song or otherwise, is one of these positive things is a founding principle behind this project and this blog. Another thing that I will try to humbly remember is that I will only be visiting for a week at each place, so my statements will reflect a first impression rather than a fully experienced understanding.

About myself: I am not a religious or musical professional. My profession consists of studying climate and water budgets for the Great Lakes basin using computer models and other methods, publishing the results, and dealing with a great variety of people who are interested in these studies. Nevertheless, I have training in religion and music.
My religious training: I was confirmed in 1981 at St. Paul's Lutheran Church of Crookston, Minnesota, after one of the most rigorous confirmation training courses within what is now the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. I took required coursework in religion at Augsburg College. I have participated in a variety of adult classes at the church at which I am currently a member, Zion Lutheran of Ann Arbor, MI, and have been moved by two trips to the Lutheran retreat center known as Holden Village, near Chelan, Washington.
Musical experience and training: In recent years, my singing has focused on Measure for Measure Men's Choral Society, a community men's chorus centered in the Ann Arbor-Ypsilanti area, along with the Chancel Choir of Zion Lutheran. In the past, I was a member of the Augsburg College Choir and several church and school choirs. I have been in a large number of musical theater productions, and recently was a member for a short time of a bicycle choir. I also have experience with several musical instruments, although lately I have concentrated mainly on piano when I have time.

Worship experiences outside the Ann Arbor area: I plan soon to write some comments on my worship experiences in the vicinity of Mto wa Mbu, Tanzania, during my trip there that lasted from July 31 to August 13, 2009. I anticipate some trips during the coming year, and expect that I might report on worship in such places as Nuremberg, Germany and San Francisco, California. I may try to make some trips to former locations in my life, such as Augsburg College in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Princeton, New Jersey, Boulder, Colorado, and I'd like to try to get back to Holden Village.