Sunday night, Nancy and I sat in a church sanctuary to listen to the Concert Choir from Bethel College. We sat about halfway back. Which was perfect for the double choir arrangement that started the concert. With a double choir, usually, there is one choir in the front of the room and one in the back, often in a balcony. There is no miking for amplification. The audience is in the middle. It is a living stereo. We are inside the music.
It is an ephemeral experience.
There is no way to replicate the sensations of being surrounding by 90 college students who love to sing, who love the One the music is about, who love the director (back from cancer surgery a year ago), who care for each other. There is no way to record the sensation for playback.
Goodness knows I thought about it. With all the recording devices I own, I thought about it. Instead, I abandoned myself to the Agnus Dei. I wept a little at the liveness. I smiled a lot with delight. And I realized that I need to work less on working hard to record, and work more on being transformed.
When Peter saw Jesus and Moses and Elijah chatting together on a mountain, his first response was to suggest building a visitation center. Peter wanted to somehow capture the moment.
But I think Jesus wanted him to be captivated by the moment. To be changed by seeing the improbable. To understand that his personal hero was as impossibly God as his religious heroes were impossibly visible.