I’ve spent a lot of time on the stage, whether singing special music for church, playing cello, doing “sketches” (not skits, and no, I don’t know why they’re sketches instead of skits), and ballet performances (I’ll write about later)… but never have I had as much fun as when I was doing musicals in High School. I learned all kinds of things (you have no idea the shenanigans that go on behind the curtain… even during the show!), like the myriad of rituals (nothing taboo), and that superstition abounds. One of these notions is the belief that a bad dress rehearsal (the worse, the better) means a great performance on opening night. Well if that were true, then the main character of the drama about to unfold should have a long career of gifted oration.
After a trying day of prepping for Christmas Day I was ready to attend Christmas Eve service with my family. My Dad, lover of all tradition, and last in a long line of Lutheran Germans, has always cherished this event. This would be the first year any of us would be there without Mom, the former choir director of this church, and musician extraordinaire, since she has just recently lost her battle with cancer (Oct.26). We had all agreed to come since none of us wanted Dad to sit alone, but I was particularly looking forward to the serenity of the setting. Skilled artisans create an atmosphere of quiet beauty with real pine trees, tall enough to nearly reach the full height of the lofty sanctuary, and bejeweled with dainty white lights. All else is decorated to a bare minimum with as many natural elements as possible, to quiet the mind and refocus on the gift of Christ’s coming. This year; however, was the first time I can remember having an added focal point.
It was a large grouping of tea light candles, in small glass holders, shaped into the outline of a manger on the back wall of the sanctuary. It was beautiful and almost hypnotizing, and the flickering little flames behaved themselves…for a while. It was the first Christmas Eve message the intern had ever delivered, and after the hushed chuckles of the congregation came in response to her confession of apprehension, we all quickly settled in to hear her speak. Mid-message some rogue flames started to reach outside their glass housing, lick the containers around them, some reaching the bottom of the row just above them, and heating them to boiling. Surely, the poor intern must have noticed part of the pie-eyed audience, completely consumed by the antics of said flames, but she continued. It occurred to me that the pulpit was about five feet above the floor, and to the front of the commotion, with a large pine tree and a partition of brick in between her and the back wall; meaning she probably had no idea what was distracting us. All breathed a sigh of relief when a snuffer-bearing champion distinguished the flames, and the message continued. No sooner had the snuffer-bearer been re-seated than a host of flames started to act up! By then there was almost a snicker carried throughout the gathering, and more than a few of us watched intently, hoping no further incident would occur.
No such luck. These flames were even more ornery than the first offenders. While the poor intern, who must have also been trained to know that “the show must go on”, acted as if nothing was wrong. We tried desperately to reward her with our attention, but when the fiendish flames reached beyond their surroundings and started to catch the background of the display on fire, the fight was lost. Cell phone cameras rolled and captured the image…all the while the speaker spoke. Even when the flames would not succumb to the snuffer battalion, and a fire extinguisher finally ended the fire’s antics, she executed her, uh, performance. Not until the service was over, when she had a chance to send us all out with a final blessing, did she admit that her mentor had tried to trip her up all year...and that this attempt was done without him!
As I said, if a bad dress rehearsal is the sign of a great opening night, this lady’s got it all under wraps! Future orations will hopefully be a breeze, and next year… maybe next year we’ll all be able to focus on the reason for the season and the aforementioned artisans will have designed something, say, out of foam!
