Library > Articles > On Singing Well

On Singing Well

by Fritz Liedtke
Date Unknown

"He's mellowed out," we now say of the new kid in the college choir. Used to be he would raise his hand every five minutes and say, "Excuse me, but that cut-off wasn't very precise," or, "Excuse me, but I think we tenors could be a bit more robust in that last stanza."

Now he says nothing, and sings like the rest of us.

How sad it is that when we say, "He's mellowed out," we really mean, "He's lowered his standards to comply with those of his peers." Should we settle for this? Why?

This new member hails from my high school alma mater, where a very demanding Mr. Barber led the choir. In fact, he led the choir to five consecutive first-place finishes in state competition.
While in high school, I experienced something while listening to our choir that I've known few other times. Maybe one would call it "rapture," the experience of being "caught up together with them in the clouds," caught up in the thorough depth and beauty of music. While listening to the choir, I experienced what seemed to me like a prolonged experience of catching my breath; I was left silent, and numb, and expanded. The experience had the flavor of true Awe within it--an earthly nibble suggesting the feast of glory to come.

Why sing well? There are rewards: awe, joy, worship, beauty, truth, tastes of the eternal. But aside from what we can get, let us remember who we are. God created us in His image, in His very likeness, and we are called to be like Him. "...Just as He who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written, 'Be holy, because I am holy.'" I have yet to see any half-baked creation coming from His voice or hands.

Why do we settle for, when we could aspire to? Why should we be less than all we can be? Why should an eagle walk the canyon floor, when he owns wings? This is absurd!

For we are invited to fly. We are invited to take wing and to feel the wind beneath us and above us and through us. We are invited to sing through the turbulent sky. Yes, learning to flap and fall and soar takes work (and a good bit of faith as well). But having tasted sky, how is it we should ever again prefer this flat-footed and bony earth? Having been invited to Up, why do we so cling--doggedly or by default--to Down?

And this applies not only to choir, or to painting, or to poetry, but to every area of our lives.

Does this mean we should all be epicures, perfectionists, snobs? Not in the least. Love should rule all we do, for God is love. But He is not syrupy-sweet nice. (Nor was Mr. Barber, the choir director.) When we say, "I don't have to work diligently towards singing well, because God is nice and forgives me when I sing shoddily," we only cheapen His love and forgiveness; we make a mockery of his grace. His grace is a free gift, yes, but a costly one, both to Him, and to us. Why would we cheapen it? In devaluing the gift we scorn the giver, all to our detriment, and His sorrow.

Then let us sing well! And with gladness! As we taste of Him, and see that He is good, let us love Him as a lover her groom. Let us make music! Let us join in the Dance! Let us take wing, and please the One Who gives us voices and beauty and life!

Come, let us fly.



Submit an Article | Top of Page