by Teri Ong

I just read an article in the “Review” section of the Wall Street Journal (July11-12, 2020, pp. C1-2), entitled “Learning to Conquer Life’s Crises” by Bruce Feiler. Feiler expressed many thoughts, supported by anecdotes and some research, that Steve and I had long identified in the experiences of Bible personages. Chief among those ideas is that life is full of “transitions,” and if we have a mindset of just getting through transitions into “real life,” we may miss out on what “real life” really is.

For the Christian, real life is living obediently in the Vine, no matter the season, no matter the weather, no matter the hour of the day. “Godliness with contentment is great gain.” But any vine dresser will admit that certain conditions are easier and less stressful for the vine than others. We have been living in a time of high stress as God’s branches. We have had to deal with lockdowns, isolation, cancellations, reductions in work and material provisions, schedule alterations, relational stresses due to philosophical and theological differences on how to handle social pressures; the list could go on. Most of these can be described as some form of loss– the vine being pruned. It is one thing to take a nipper and remove an unnecessary shoot; it is another to take a Saws-all and go after main branches!

Feiler identified three emotional phases that people go through during times of destabilizing transitions: 1) “the long good-bye,” 2) “the messy middle,” and 3) “the new beginning.” He posits that different people stay in certain phases differentially based on aspects of their personalities. Some have more trouble with good-byes, while some get stuck in the middle, and so on.

I think I had trouble with the good-bye phase. After all, no one is more conservative than I am. I have never said good-bye to my land line phone, nor have I ever even entered a messy middle with a smart phone. My pruning has been a long process of seeing fruit die on the vine before finally breaking off the withered shoots. One-fourth of the Loveland Orchestra season had to be cancelled. I had to shut down my music studio and cancel our end-of-semester recital. The spring concerts for my two choirs and two instrumental ensembles had to be cancelled, along with the slim hopes of recording the performances without an audience and putting them on-line. Our school musical, “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown,” was also scrapped. During all this time, I was so focused on watching fruit dry up that I didn’t get much else done. This is almost the first time in four months that I have tried to write.

Feiler writes, “This act of purging is necessary to prepare for the creativity that often follows… At the moment of greatest chaos, we respond with creation.” Well, I didn’t get lemons for making lemonade, but I did get a bunch of raisins for baking cookies. What follows here is my first batch of cookies– that is to say, a poem about losing live ensemble music. I hope it ill not be lost forever. For me, there is no “new normal” in this area of life– only the hope of next season’s harvest.

A Sound Appraisal 

 
By Chebar’s shore 
In days of yore, 
Israel’s harps were hung. 
Tormentors sore Demanded more, 
But songs were never sung. 
Unlike before, 
It was a chore 
To loosen up their tongue. 

 
Our hearts are rent 
By edicts sent, 
Enforced with weight of laws. 
The optics meant 
The powers bent 
To science full of flaws. 
“Viral advent 
Causes death threat, 
So silence singing jaws!” 

 
An ensemble 
So terrible 
Might utter deadly sound; 
Killers, hateful, 
Musicians all, 
In groups together bound! 
Now we’re doleful, 
Masked and woeful; 
Harps, voices all put down. 

 
Keepers all do 
Put a stop to 
“Non-essential” service. 
Those who need to 
Play their last cue 
Make keepers furious. 
For some, their tune 
Silenced too soon 
Is deadly serious. 

So, have a bone! 
Just play alone; 
Go viral, electric! 
Sounds on a phone 
Turn my heart stone; 
Let us play acoustic. 
Let our ring tones, 
Questions and moans 
Make all our keepers sick. 

 
“Please let us sing– 
A healthy thing– 
Do not demean our task. 
Joy we can bring 
If we can sing. 
Is it too much to ask? 
But your words sting, 
And we’re hurting, 
While you hide in your mask.” 

 
The sounds of strife 
Silence our life; 
Satanic minions thrill! 
We see hate rise, 
Fellowship dies, 
Togetherness they kill. 
Ensemble, we’ll try, 
Though faintly cry, 
‘Tilvoices all are still: 

The only sounds 
We hear around 
Are groans of deep despair. 
May God be found 
And grace abound, 
May He our hopes repair. 
Tread evil down, 
O Joy and Crown, 
Bring music back once more. 

In heaven’s land 
Songs won’t be banned, 
So shines a ray of light. 
Help us to stand, 
Please, our God, grant 
We lift our voice with might, 
Raise up our hands, 
Strike up our bands; 
Give songs through this dark night. 

 
Teri Ong – after four months of interminable “new non-normal”, July 2020