Music majors actually run the world.

I took this at a Victorian mansion-turned-office.  Wish it was my house.

That's not an overstatement.  "Next to theology, I give music the highest place," Martin Luther insightfully claimed, making the connection that music is an extremely practical tool from God.  Beyond all of the awkward questions about schooling at family reunions or the dentist's office, those who major in this craft really do keep society running.  Here's why.

First, if no one actually bothered to study music at an advanced level, there would be no random person in your church choir who raises his or her hand to ask a really good question.  "When do you want us to cut off?  If we leave this note hanging over, it's dissonant with the piano."  "Could the altos hear their note against the sopranos?  That's a really tricky interval to sing."  Smart thinking, people.  It's quality control.

They also make up one gigantic web of resources.  Not only do I have my pianist and organist friends, but it builds a web between ALL musicians so I also have violinist friends, trumpeter friends, cellist friends, flutist friends, harpist friends, you name it at my fingertips (hey!  I could put together a chamber orchestra.  Now to give everyone plane tickets).  Between all musicians, the degrees of separation get a lot smaller.  Once, I attended a choral concert with friends that happened to be close relatives of the music director.  I began discussing my organ lessons, and the man in front of me turned around, introduced himself as my organ instructor's son, and joined our conversation about organ composers!

Without music majors, you would never get those annoying-but-inviting brochures announcing some musical ensembles' upcoming concert season in the mail.  Some people took the time to apply their training, put their talents alongside others, and hand over something for you to delight in that they enjoy as well.  Their performance art is extremely unique - it takes place only in time, unlike a drawing one can stand and observe for hours, so the details have to be brought out with attention.  Have you ever thought about how odd it is that the human mind can remember sound?  One does not really hear it, but recreates the patterns somehow internally.  Wow.

Also, have you ever tried to picture what television or movies would be like without a soundtrack?  Don't think about it too hard.  Everything would come across like a really low-budget documentary.  We need thoughtfully-composed sound in order to paint the correct mood, show motion (and what kind of motion), and even help us draw connections between scenes.  Disney cartoons without music?  Awkward and creepy.

Additionally, this does seem politically incorrect, but there are certain musical things that just sound "bad," and even the musical laymen recognize them.  However, discerning exactly what it is often proves challenging - knowing how to fix the problem belongs to the realm of music theory.  For example, I heard a choral arrangement of a hymn once that kept encountering an intonation mishap at a specific point.  I could not figure it out at first, but upon seeing the score, I caught parallel fourths (counterpoint taboo!).  Knowing that such part-writing creates voice-leading roadblocks saves the amateur musicians a lot of trouble.

When life is going as it should, the people working hard to make it run smoothly do not usually receive compliments, but as soon as a gap opens up, complaints arise.  "Why don't we have any more coffee?  It was YOUR job to remember to buy some!"  Those who study music provide a restful, heightened element to ho-hum life, and by their expertise our artistic activities are made more efficient (i.e. singing in church with a good accompanist).  To all of my non-musician friends, thank you for understanding that I have a real calling to do what I love, despite the inapparent rewards.  To fellow music majors:  thank you for being you, doing your vocation in the otherwise silent but chaotic world.  It's an honor to do battle with you.  :)

"I have something for you!"

How often every year do we hear someone say that?  Doesn't that phrase invoke instant delight?

"I have something for you!" when you're out in a thickly-populated room of festive people, and the antecedent hope of meeting up with the giver later to receive the object.  "I have something for you!" over the internet from a distant-but-close friend, and checking the doorstep later.  It instills something definite - and positive - for which to wait.  However, because other people deal with sinful natures in the exact same way we do, these promises get lost in transit more frequently than expected.  En route to retrieving the gift, distractions of "more important" things stop the person in his or her tracks, or the means to convey it slips out of control and the awaited thing disappoints us.  Don't you hate that?

Every Christmas and every day, God says, "I have something for you!" and absolutely means it.  His Son and His precious forgiveness, leading to a home in heaven, stand by for us all the time.  The Lord fully intends that all should grasp this gift for their very own.

Many churches teach that God declares something like, "I have something for you!  It's going to arrive when you go to pick it up.  Even though you don't know what it is, you have to want the gift first."  It's "freely" given to the individual, but there are too many prospective gaps.  Where will it arrive?  How will it arrive?  What if I don't pick it up the right thing, or break the gift once I get it?  How do I make sure I want it?  The hope gets dropped in the pileup of questions.

Oppositely, the Bible confirms that the Holy Spirit alone delivers the treasure through the promised means of grace, tells us why exactly we need Christ's work, instill in us a want of it, and figuratively holds up our hands and tears open the present for us.  Even then, the giving is not done - God is the reason His grace stays with us and never expires.  Possessing things that are "instant" is really nice (hot cocoa mix and oatmeal?).  In reality, nothing is more instant than the grace received by faith:  the Father ALREADY sent the Son.  Christ ALREADY won justification for ALL people.  Upon contact with the Word and Sacraments, the Holy Spirit INSTANTLY makes this righteousness your own via repentance and faith He INSTANTLY brings. AT ONCE, your perfect eternal destination is sure.

Most importantly, the Lord calls us saying "I have something FOR YOU!" personally, through the One-on-one act of hearing the Word, Baptism, eating and drinking Holy Communion, and being absolved by another Christian.  Yes, He has something for "you" in the plural sense, but without the application of a direct inference to one of us, that statement would not hold any significance.  Nowhere does Scripture read, "I have something - for someone else!"

For my Christmas gift, I'm going somewhere - to heaven someday.  Has your future present been opened yet?

Now He who establishes us with you in Christ and has anointed us is God, who also has sealed us and given us the Spirit in our hearts as a guarantee. 2 Corinthians 1:22

Thus God, determining to show more abundantly to the heirs of promise the immutability of His counsel, confirmed it by an oath, that by two immutable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we might have strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold of the hope set before us. Hebrews 6:17-18

"That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown" - even better than a security blanket.

"What exactly ARE you doing?"

The (sometimes goofy) stuff people regularly say to me, and my (sometimes confused and startled) responses.

Here's one thing I take pleasure in as often as I can.  :)

"So you're going to the seminary?  What's your degree called?"
It's NOT an M.Div.  It's the M.A. in Lutheran Theological Studies, and it takes three years and 46 credits to complete.

"Do they even let women in the seminary?  I didn't know they did that."
No one ever said I couldn't!  It's a laymen's degree, and they do say "he or she" in the description.

"So, uh, what classes are you taking?"
Isagogics, which is an overview of the books of the Bible; dogmatics, which is like doctrine; and hermeneutics, the rules for interpreting Scripture.  They're all really interesting.

"Oh wow.  Your classes sound really hard.  I don't know what half of those are."
Not really.  If you like this sort of thing, it's not hard.  I wouldn't live one day in a graduate mathematical program.

"So what do you plan on doing with your degree?"
Working in church music.  Look, getting a degree in theology will not hurt anybody.  I don't think pastors enjoy having oblivious laymen.

"I'm mixed up.  I thought you were doing some master's degree in church music.  This is instead?"
No, that's just over the summer.  This is what I'm doing over the year while applying my newfound skills in the parish.  I have a religion minor in my undergrad program, and like studying it as well.

"Hi sweetie!  How are you doing today?"
"Sweetie"?  Even though you are much taller than me, you are a freshman.  I prefer not be addressed as such.

"So you're in two masters' programs, huh?  You must be really smart, huh?"
No, I don't quite feel that way.  I'm doing what I like to do - I like being in "the bunch" but never completely feel worthy to be in "the bunch."

"Where did you go to school growing up?"
I was homeschooled for all 12 years and definitely recommend it.  I had time to do college credits and practice piano, and saving time in college was a huge financial blessing.

"Oh!  That's why you act like you were homeschooled!"
Um - what does that mean exactly?

"How do you like being the only woman?"
I love it.  There's no girl drama!  I cannot get work done properly when people are running around being overly emotional, and that never happens.  The seminary students are some of the nicest and most accepting people, and I am honored to go to school with them.

"You're so skinny!   Do you have a hollow leg? Where does all that food go, anyway?"
The same place as that person's sense of tact.  Bring me a piece of quality chocolate cake, and I will prove you wrong.  :)

My Advent Tree

The heirloom itself (yes, with purple matryoshkas admiring it)

My very oldest Christmas tradition has quite the story - in fact, it nearly wasn't my oldest Christmas tradition for over a decade.  Thankfully, it has recovered so that in 2013 I may retell its journey.

Some people have those little paper Advent (or beginning of December, with the liturgical discrepancy) calendars which you open every day to mark off the days until Christmas.  In certain cases, the opening involves a piece of candy or Lego set (but what do you do in subsequent years?).  I have a Precious Moments musical Advent tree - a little artificial pine about a foot tall on a square base with 24 tiny numbered drawers, each secreting a miniscule hand-painted ornament.  The idea is that you hang a ornament on the tree every day, during which I wind up the top and it chimes "Joy to the World," my favorite Christmas hymn.

One of my multitudinous shortcomings growing up was my urge to imitate things my favorite picture-book characters did, often expecting the same successful results.  One Christmas Day when I was perhaps three or four, I fell asleep on the late-night car ride back from my uncle and aunt's celebration, and my dad carried my inside to my room.  Upon awakening, I felt so ashamed that I had been caught napping (oh horror!), so I remembered what Angelina the mouse did in Angelina Ballerina:  she kicked her dresser holding her prized dancer statue, and it crashed to the ground and broke.  I kicked my dresser, and  - you guessed it - my Advent tree was atop it.  It didn't tip off or anything, but I ruined it nonetheless:  upon trying it out later, it would not play "Joy to the World."  The music box was broken, and there appeared to be no way to remove the wind-up component inside to be repaired.

Many years passed, and I could hardly remember the ornamented tree revolving and ringing its charming melody.  I and my mother decided to try another tiny-but-powerful tool:  dental floss.  Diligently and tediously, we stroked it across the tightly-glued wood base until at last a crevice was seen, and continued to loosen all four corners.  There it was: the dislodged metal reel, with notes like pinpoints all over it.  Paging through the lists of repairers in the phone directory, we came up with the name of one man a good distance away who cared for music boxes, and shipped off the mechanism and tree to him with hopeful thoughts.

Several weeks later, the little tree returned all put back together.  I removed it from the box, gave it a turn, and it began to twirl, sounding "Joy to the World" just as I remembered!  To this day, even in college, I enjoy decorating and listening to my Advent tree, and appreciate it all the more for its story.

Cantata No. 19: Name that hymn!

Illustration by Norma Boeckler, former member of my dad's church!

Let's play a nice friendly round of "Guess the Chorale Tune."

Cantata No. 19, for the September feast of St. Michael's, kicks off with a whirl of contrapuntal hilarity not unlike the "Sind Blitzen" outburst of the St. Matthew Passion, mimicking the struggle between the angels and Satan, the bass teases the defeated dragon in a declamatory recit, and the soprano tells of the secure encircling of the heavenly host around the Christian's camp, interwoven by sturdy oboes.  Still, the real jewel follows in the tenor aria.

In this minor-key movement, pillowed by tenderly lilting strings, he pleads that the angels will stay with him on both sides, but also keep him directed to praise the Lord above.  In the background, the trumpet soloist plays a very familiar hymn, more specifically, the third verse.  Can you guess what it is?  :)

Recording of the aria:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IuoLIn3krUQ
Score:  http://petrucci.mus.auth.gr/imglnks/usimg/d/dd/IMSLP00744-BWV0019.pdf
Translation (contains spoilers!):  http://www.emmanuelmusic.org/notes_translations/translations_cantata/t_bwv019.htm