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The Mind's Ear

By way of introducing the houseguest to his Next-Door Parish, I went to 10 am service at St. Mark's last Sunday instead of the completely said, no singing 8 am service. I had thought to pitch the choir to him (he is a singer) but they were on holiday (dispersed in the pews, though, which made for an excellent acoustic experience).

I am most glad that I did, as I had one of Those Moments. I have never, in all my days of pew-sitting (and I was not raised Episcopalian), sung "Precious Lord" as a congregation. It's always been a performance piece (choir/soloist). And it was beyond moving. That congregation of mostly 50+ white Episcopalians really did it justice as the American spiritual classic it is. Gorgeous sound, and to me, a genuine spiritual experience. I was glad we were sitting down as I needed to compose myself afterwards.

My time on the Ship of Fools has caused me to take a Mystery Worshipper eye on the proceedings. One of the standard MW questions is "Which part of the service was like being in heaven?" and that was what I thought.

It's been my earworm, and something I've been singing as I've been puttering around the house or driving around. (She who sings, prays twice. Sing my way through to the other side.)

The alternate earworm, in high contrast, has been Johnny Cash's cover of "Hurt", which I took a notion to listen to on the car stereo. I had an acupuncture appointment yesterday evening and actually dozed off during it (a highly desireable thing), to the alternating music of my mind.

(As I was called by on-call at 5:45 am, the stupid call phone ring temporarily lodged itself, but writing this post out has helped.)