Each Sunday I get the best place in the room for music. As the Clavinova begins to play, I get to stand in front of our loyal group of singers for the Sunday anthem. Together, we craft a beautiful offering to God in song. I am always amazed at the ability of our small group to sing together, harmonize, and lift up the spirit of the congregation. It is a privilege to conduct such a great group of singers.
It is also God’s joke on me that I am their conductor. When I was a student at Millikin University, there was one class I really could care less about; conducting. It was a required semester class for Commercial Music majors, where basic conducting of ensembles and groups would be covered. There was even videotaping involved; another reason I did not like the class. I never like to watch myself on videotape, whether conducting or, later, for preaching class.
Sitting as a junior in my conducting class, I would literally go through the motions of basic conducting. “Why,” I would ask myself, “do I really need this class? I have no intention of being any kind of conductor; just give me a piano and a group to play with, let someone else do the conducting.” But with baton in hand, I would move my wrist to prepare for the ictus (the down beat) of the short score in front of me. My video tape production would be critiqued (and I remember being told that I did not count time clearly and needed a bit more stiffness in my wrist action); I was not planning nor desiring to be an Arturo Toscanini, a famous Italian orchestra conductor, and was grateful when the semester ended.
As far as I was concerned, the distance between me and a conductor’s baton could continue as far as east is from west. When the class concluded, my conducting career also ended. Or so I thought.
Perhaps you have had the same experience. You go through the motions to get through, gain enough skill or talent, then think you have finished your work, never anticipating that one day the toil will become not just labor of work, but a labor of love. God is much better at anticipating our future needs than we can possibly imagine. Each act of work that is barely tolerated may become something more than we realize. Today’s dreaded task may become tomorrow’s favorite hobby.
Lent is a special time to reconsider our labor for God and how God labors through us, the hands and feet of the Good news for all people. God may nudge us towards work that five years or even five months ago we would never consider ourselves qualified. Or are we just going through the motions, hoping the class or task will end, never to be repeated? You never really know how prepared you really are for the work God has you to do until you start to do it.
So now I stand in front of seven gifted persons each week and flail my arms to patterns I thought I had long ago forgotten. Sometimes they even pay attention. Sometimes I notice I am counting 3/4 time in 4/4 measures. And in that moment, I forget how much I really disliked conducting class.
Sometimes God calls us to do things we could never imagine ourselves ever doing. When God does call you, I hope you will pay attention in class. You never know when your least favorite class becomes your greatest subject.
Soli Deo Gloria (To God alone be glory)
