That largest church I mentioned yesterday had magnificent Christmas presentations every year. We expanded the stage, moved back the front pews to create a large orchestra pit, and hired extra musicians. We did multiple shows, and had sell-out crowds every night (even though it was free, we still required tickets, for space reasons). While I was usually the only cellist on normal Sundays, for Christmas, two or three others came to play with me. As I was still very much a beginner (I had been playing cello less than a year that first Christmas), I loved having the chance to learn from more experienced players.
However, during performances, everything was so loud that I couldn’t hear myself play. This was a big problem, since I needed to hear myself to know if I was on pitch or not. I didn’t have enough experience on cello – enough ‘muscle memory’ – to be able to know with any certainty if my fingers were in the correct position without hearing myself. Pianos have notes already tuned – you just have to press the correct key. With a string instrument, even the slightest change in finger position can cause a large shift in pitch.
At least they didn’t put any microphones near me. I joked once (not really joking) that they should never put a mike near me, and another musician encouraged me by saying that before I knew it, I’d have a microphone and be doing solos! I just laughed (a bit frightened at the thought, honestly).
A few years later, we moved to Florida, and were members of a smaller church, though still one with a large orchestra. I had been practicing the cello quite a bit, and had two college student cellists to learn from for a few years. So I had improved. Then, for the Christmas Eve service, many musicians were out of town, the service was more meditative, and I found myself with a microphone just for me, with only a pianist and an oboist joining me.
I was rather nervous (actually, freaked out), but I could definitely hear myself. And so could everyone else. The music was fairly simple, and I did fairly well, I suppose, but I could only remember those fateful words from a few years earlier!
I began to enjoy the quiet pieces on Sundays, where I could hear myself easily. And now, at a very small church, I’m asked to play with only a few other musicians. I’m still nervous about that microphone, but I love hearing the deep, low tones of the cello reverberate in the church. Loud and majestic music is inspiring and awesome, and there is definitely a place for that in worship. But sometimes, the most effective pieces of music are quiet and thoughtful.
So also our prayers and conversations with God are often most effective when they are quiet and thoughtful. It’s much easier to listen when we are quiet.
Be still, and know that I am God
Psalm 46:10a