I was invited by Melissa Dupuy, brilliant multi-instrumentalist, writer and teacher who frequently plays at Nashville's 2nd Presbyterian, to play this instrument I hadn't played in years for both Sunday morning services. I would be in a quartet of musicians for an instrumental round of the 8 bar cannon 'When Jesus Wept'. It's a beautiful piece, and the other players - on guitar, recorder, violin - were truly gifted musicians. I'd never heard the song, and had to translate the sheet music into numbers to learn it because my bowed psaltry is tuned in G, not C. Also, I had never played it with anyone else, so I'd only tuned it to itself. It was about 1/4 step sharp, so I tuned all strings down with a guitar tuner (a major feat itself for this delicate instrument) and practiced for days to try and get my bowing-between-the-pegs chops back up. Melissa kindly came over to rehearse a couple of times. I felt ok by the time Sunday rolled around, but I found myself unusually a bit shall we say... anxious!

To get to the church for our first and only practice before the early service, I had to get up far earlier than is my custom, so there was that. I wore heels, which is usually something my lazy legs only do when I get to sit down a lot. Coffee was non-negotiable. Drank my protein smoothie in the car while my husband John drove. We were also joining the church last Sunday, so there was that to do between services. They actually vote on you in the Presbyterian denomination. We love the people there so much already, but there was still that fresh meat probie aspect... and I'd be performing for the first time for them, too!

OK so it gets to be mid-service; time for the offertory. We've been standing for a while, so my heeled legs are feeling a bit fatigued. Did I say I started the round? Yep. It's a light, ethereal sounding instrument, so we put it first to give it sonic space. And of course my bow slipped a bit. Did they hear that? Also the rosin in my case was hard as a fossel. There could be some dinosaur DNA in it. So my bow was a bit scratchy, and harmonics appeared from the psaltry that were reminiscent of fingernails on a chalkboard. Hmm. The psaltry was mic'd so its volume was balanced in the auditorium, but we didn't have monitors, so I couldn't hear the thing when the other beautiful instruments came in for their part of the round! I realized mid-performance how much I depend on hearing what my strings are playing. We finished; no one seemed appalled, and I pretended nothing was wrong. However, my husband knew I needed some air. Yep. Oh well, I'll never have to do that again. Oh no... yes I do... there's the 11 o'clock service and tons more people!

Between services, I drank more coffee, unexpectedly took sweet compliments from several folks who had attended the early service and then hunted down the violin player, from whom I begged a bit of her jade rosin. Quickly rosined up both my bows and prayed for help! It really was much better this time; the fresh rosin made a quality difference, I focused on the pegs and sweated my way through. Did I say these musicians were awesome? after the service, I got all kinds of questions about my odd instrument, and comments about how cool these particular 4 instruments sounded together. Whew. Driving home I felt like a truck had run over me and then backed up. Amazing how much stress I experienced with this.

So, as is my habit, I thought back on it all day, and a lightbulb came on. I had forgotten what I know and teach... it's about the Message, dummy! I had focused on perfection of playing, on what people thought, if my mistakes had been noticed, if my musicianship was judged inadequate... on MYSELF! This is not like me. But it was true. Everyone was so kind and complimentary, but I figured I was just barely able to pull it off. Thank God I guess the music blessed the room anyway!

Here's what I missed:

The point of the spear of this music, like all art, is the message. And this was the message I had missed on Palm Sunday: Jesus hurt! Jesus was in every kind of pain one could imagine... physical, emotional, even spiritual pain. The song's haunting melody sings of Jesus' deep suffering. A 'man of sorrows', Christian belief says he is more than able to be present with and care for all who suffer, and to follow Jesus means we do the same. This message was all I needed to have avoided the stress and anxiety of delivering it. 

Next time, I will remember. (Remind me I said that!) My job whenever I am playing or singing is two-fold: 

Humbly yours:)