My parents are both religious, I guess that goes without saying - see yrs 0-18 above. They met when they were teenagers attending Knox Presbyterian Church in California. During their 30 years in the Air Force sometimes church was the base chapel, sometimes a Methodist or Lutheran or Anglican church. Now that they are settled they're back to their Presbyterian roots.
When Mom & Dad invited me to join them for a special program of Christmas music at their church I accepted with thanks - I LOVE Christmas music. Always have. Always will. I loved being a member of the children's choir when I was a kid. So I was looking forward to it. Mom mentioned that the adult choir was large, 85+ voices. Impressive. But I'll get back to that.
We arrived for the 4:00 PM event at 3:30 and not a moment too soon. There was quite a crowd. The parking lot was the size of a local tourist attraction, Clue #1. I remember thinking there aren't enough church goers in Green Valley and Sahuarita combined to fill that lot. Wrong. My first sight of the church was what you see above. Nice enough but nothing special. Pretty typical architecture for around here. It sits high on a bajada overlooking a green valley below and the Santa Rita Mountains beyond. We're not talking big valley here, the mountains aren't far away at all. The thing is, what you see in that picture above is not the sanctuary. I guess its offices or something on the left. And on the right only a hint of of the soaring surprises to come.
As we joined the crowd going up the steps Mom pointed out the spot where an owl nests every year and as we entered the church I had time to note a huge Christmas tree in the narthex before the immensity of the sanctuary hit me. The only wall between the sanctuary and the narthex is glass, actually a series of glass panels, huge glass panels that begin about four feet from the floor, resting on wood cabinets Clue #2 , and reaching all the way to the ceiling. I don't know how to go about describing the sanctuary. From outside it looks like the traditional rectangular orientation we're all used to. But once you're inside it opens out and up, way up. It made me think of a cathedral with the pews all facing the wrong way; that is, facing what would be the long wall. The closest I can come is to say that what would be a long wall popped out and was shaped sort of like a pentagon, halved -- well six really but what do you call a six-sided object? Don't remember so we're moving on..... And where the three walls should be are huge half moon walls of glass, angling gently inward forming an apse of sorts. At the base of each, a single row of about 50 poinsettias. In front of the center window wall I could see the organ and on a level below, two lecterns from which draped typical southwest style alter cloths and a piano off to the side. I don't remember seeing an altar and I couldn't see where the choir would sit. They're usually on one side or the other but there seemed to be no room in either direction. The pews sloped downward, theater-style, stretched in a bit of an arc facing the three arched windows across the enormous width of the sanctuary. So, the congregation faced the apse with its window walls, an expansive view of the valley and mountains beyond. Behind us the center sections opened even further back. How many aisles were there? I think there were five, maybe six. There was carpet on the floor and red cushions on the pews. The only decorations were the poinsettias. Tons of them.
And then there was the music. During the processional the choir made their way up each of the aisles, completely surrounding us as they approached the "transept" humming Oh come, Oh Come, Emanuel but it seemed a tactile thing, like a buzz in the air totally enveloping us, like we were surrounded by bees. Never experienced anything like it. I couldn't see where they were headed and their lines seemed endless. I expect had anyone been looking they'd have seen me standing there with my mouth open. As it turned out they settled beneath the huge window arches, couldn't really see them but that's probably because of where I was seated. The choir was beautifully turned out in white robes with red drapey things, which I'm told are called collars. Actually they look like the hoods you see on the distinguished speakers at a college graduation. And there were close to 100 of them!
What had to be somebody's grandchildren did the advent candle ceremony and then it started sounding like CHURCH. I disengaged when he said God has come. All this time I've been thinking it was Jesus who came. I couldn't read the responses because I'd left my purse and my glasses at home thinking I was just gonna be a spectator. Imagine my chagrin when they passed the plate. So while that bit was going on I took the time to look around again and try to figure out why I felt the choir. Maybe they each had those head mics you see on performers, the pastor had one. Don't know, they were too far away now. But as I looked above them I could see a solid line of huge speakers built into the wall above the arched windows, all facing the congregation. And above that, way, way up there hung six microphones on long cords above the choir.
After the church bits the choir and congregation all sang songs we didn't need a hymnal for - Silent Night, O Little Town of Bethlehem, What Child Is This, etc....The music and the voices swelled around us and felt like an enormous warm embrace. The sound became a living, breathing thing. More prayers, more scripture, then suddenly behind us a rich, clear, bass voice rang thru the sanctuary. He sang I Hear The Prophet Callin' and rude as I may have been to turn and watch him I couldn't help myself. I was rapt. Then more music from the choir. In addition to the organ and piano there was a harp, kettle drum, flute, wood flute (very middle eastern sound) hammer dulcimer, xylophone, tambourine, chimes, and hand bells, each featured at one point or another. When the choir sang the words "fall on your knees" the music surged, the choir surged, the bass surged, and I felt it all in my entire being, from my toes to my tear-filled eyes. Our last chance to join in song was the recessional. The song, what else, Joy To The World. But. Instead of making their way out of the church, the choir stopped when each of the aisles was full turned and stood there singing with us. I have goose bumps again just remembering it. It felt like we were one sound, one voice. It was simply breathtaking. The entire experience was OUT OF THIS WORLD.
In all the churches over all my years, cathedrals included, I've never had such a moving experience. I had chills. I had tears. I was so choked up at times I couldn't sing. I wanted to wrap my arms around the entire experience and keep it forever. It could not have been any better.
I should have known when I passed the big sound board in the narthex what we were in for. Truth is, it didn't really register until I passed it again as we were leaving - lights and buttons and switches and toggles and stacks of what looked to the uneducated eye like receivers. This was theatre. Magnificent Theatre.
I think Mom believes I had some sort of epiphany because I was clearly affected by the event. It gives her comfort, I think, to believe I've finally come around but she'll realize before long that I'm the same ole me. Still agnostic and still capable of being deeply moved by things that touch me.
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