Posted on 11/18/2007 10:06:34 AM PST by Congressman Billybob
The definition of descant is “a counter-melody above the melody.” What a dry definition for such a magnificent reality. I reached an important conclusion during a descant by the choir at the Church of the Incarnation, a few months ago.
Descants are sung by the first sopranos. Under the direction of the excellent Choir Master at that Church, some hymns there have a key shift up and a new instrumental introduction, and then what was merely four-part harmony becomes five-part harmony. That top line soars and dances among the beams that hold up the roof,
As regular readers know, I don’t wear my religion on my sleeve. For some folks, such a decision is expressed to other people. For others, me included, that is a personal matter. So, all I’ll say is I was a Presbyterian all my life, but I began looking for a new church home. At that moment, in that Church, the beauty of the moment was so clear and overwhelming that I knew I’d found my church home.
Oh, there were other reasons as well. The priest is an exceptional man. It is an engaging community of people. My fiancee sings in that choir. Almost fifty years ago, I sang in a choir, and still remember the bass parts, especially Handel’s Messiah.
But when I thought about that moment, and that decision, I realized that all of us experience, occasionally, perfect moments. Let me offer a few of my examples. This may inspire you to define some for yourselves.
Try this scent for example. It is Thanksgiving. The house is filled with relatives. It is about an hour before the turkey will be served. The whole house is filled with the scent of a turkey and all the dressings. That one smell brings memories of dozens of Thanksgivings.
That smell promises a perfect taste as well. On a plate will be piled high several slices of moist turkey with a crackling baked skin, and real mashed potatoes (not instant) covered in gravy with melted butter also, and peas. The first bite from that plate of promise is a large piece of turkey, scooped into the mashed potatoes and peas, and dripping with gravy.
Of course, that process should be repeated until you reach a point of satiation – when you fall on the sofa, you cannot get up again without help. I saw you smile. Most of you have been in that precise position, more than once.
Now, let’s try a moment of a perfect touch. It is just past sunrise. A full sun in a nearly cloudless sky is streaming through an open window and washing over a butterscotch tabby cat. The cat is warm, comfortable, and just barely awake. A cat that comfortable will roll over if you scratch his ears. A perfect touch is to rub that cat’s soft warm belly fur as he purrs in total satisfaction.
That leaves the dominant sense for us humans, the sense of sight, to offer a descant moment. After six decades of seeing the world, there are so many candidates. I’ll choose one from here in the mountains.
It was about thirteen years ago. I was living alone in the family home, a turn of the century farmhouse, that I had just refurbished. From the top of Kettle Rock Mountain the view is 80 miles to the horizon, weather permitting. The view is to the south, and most storms come up from that direction.
A huge storm was coming up from the south. It was over Walhalla, South Carolina. The storm was so far away that I could hold up my hand and cover the whole of it. But it was nothing so slight for the people of Walhalla, Lightning was striking vigorously all about. The rest of the sky was absolutely clear, and this storm was all by itself.
I had read that most lightning strikes from any storm do not go to the ground. Instead, these electrical daggers stab from one part of the clouds into another, and never approach the ground. And so it was for this storm. Easily two thirds of all the strikes were within the clouds, and I could see all that.
So, I stayed on the porch, watching this late-night display, until the storm arrived on Kettle Rock, and what was once a whole display became the present reality of hard rain and lightning that knocked out the electricity to the house.
Each of these moments, and so many more, were perfect moments. Notice I did not offer any examples that directly involved people. It is my experience, perhaps yours as well, that nothing involving people is ever perfect. Excellent, exquisite, but not perfect.
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About the Author: John Armor practiced in the US Supreme Court for 33 years. John_Armor@aya.yale.edu He lives in the 11th District of North Carolina.
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But it is about thanksgiving, and Thanksgiving. So, on second thought, I offer this as a Thanksgiving card for friends and colleagues on FR.
John / Billybob
Thanks for posting this Congressman Billybob.
I share in your sentiments and a healthy and safe Thanksgiving with family and FRiends to You and All.
Reading that, I could smell the turkey :)
John / Billybob
Thanks for posting.
Perfect moments; a long gallop over a smooth meadow.
A storm over Austin seen from my ridge here in the Hill Country.
Being up at sunrise and listening to Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto in A Major.
Being at a friend’s ranch last Christmas in front of a fireplace big enough to drive a truck into and sitting up until late over the dying coals with a glass of wine.
Wonderful moments.
So, you have become an Episcopalian, John? Smiling... Hope that you have a relationship with the Savior. He is the Creator that causes people to soar.
THanks for the post. May you have a blessed Thanksgiving.
This has absolutely no place on the News/Activism forum.
Thanks for posting it. It was wonderful!
Thanks for the post. Have a great Thanksgiving!
Over the years, I had been forced by the court system to attend AA meetings due to my numerous DUI's. There was even a period of two years that I was clean and sober, but the program never really "took." Years passed.
I had reached a point when I felt totally beaten (this had happened in the past, too), but I knew I couldn't go on as always. I finally asked a man whom I didn't particularly like, because he was too religious and outspoken, to be my sponsor. I thought I needed someone who was tough and could combat my over-intellectualism. He initially said no, but a few days later relented.
He acted as a teacher, with me as his pupil, and many times I chafed at that, but things progressed. One evening when he dropped me off after a meeting, in appreciation for his help, I said, "Ah, my sponsor." He took this totally wrong. He thought I was speaking ironically and became very mad. Later that night he called to say he was no longer my sponsor. I was crushed at being so totally misunderstood.
It then struck me that my sobriety fundamentally boiled down to me and my relationship with a higher power. I didn't like the thought, but felt I had to accept it. I then walked out my bedroom door onto the roof of the garage which served as a patio. I looked up and immediately saw a blazing meteor shoot from roughly south to north. I gave this a special meaning, though some may have scoffed since the Perseid meteor shower was to reach its height the next two days.
I did watch the show those nights and it confirmed what I already knew. The Perseids travel from roughly north and head roughly south. Not one that I saw, followed the previous path. It's been twelve years since then and my sponsor is still my sponsor (despite that misunderstanding) and I have not felt compelled to pick up a drink since.
Thanks for posting this my FRiend.
Well written. ‘Pod.
My brother, on the other hand, never learned and never got around the corner. He died of his alcoholism, leaving a trail of death and destruction behind him.
Because of my family experiences, I have deep respect for what you have done, and how difficult it was to do.
Happy Thanksgiving,
John / Billybob
Thank you for the respite.
Bump.
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