Hand out from the UU Musician's Network conference......

A Few Words from the Religious Educators…

Keep up the good work of U.U. music ministry!!!
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As a parent... I feel blessed to know UU songs that I sing for lullabies and work around the house. And I feel fortunate to know the stories behind them to tell my children. The lyrics of our songs and the stories behind the songs are very rich religious education opportunities.
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Please try not to schedule the Soprano singing Wagner on an intergenerational or
children's visiting Sunday. I had kids sitting on the dais holding their hands over
their ears to the embarrassment of the congregation and me!
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There are many ways to make music from the heart. Children can learn through repetition, a song can be melodically simple, but still have intriguing themes. **********
Invite the musicians to share their music/instruments with the children, if they
are comfortable. During the "Children's Story" they could describe how to play the
instrument. Or they could offer a piece to the children in the RE Wing after they
are done in the adult service. Or they could "practice" with the kids arriving and
give them a taste of what is coming.
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Don't forget to use the teens for "in-house" musicians. Some are very accomplished
and play in High School Orchestra or are taking advanced lessons in voice or an
instrument.
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I knew that I had done right by my children when I was having a very hard time with a friend's illness with AIDS. My eldest son snuggled into me, put his arm around me and started humming "Find a Stillness."
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Keep it simple! Little ones can't do really complicated tunes or lyrics ..
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I think most churches don't give youngins enough credit -- most studying music are certainly good enough to play in a church band
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Things I HAVE told music directors….from Marie Houck

“There are two things that everyone of all ages needs in music in worship:
the first is an opportunity to HEAR the voice of God in the form of hearing
beautiful music, the second is an opportunity to BECOME part of the
collective voice of God in the form of congregational singing.

From a practical point of view, this mean that at least some of the time,
the music sung by the congregation needs to be accessible to non-readers,
either in the form of familiar songs that everyone ends up learning by
heart, or in the form of repetitive songs or echo songs.

And there is no need "dumb down" the music that is presented for
listening. Children enjoy hearing complex music. They don't need to be
"entertained" any more (or less, I suppose) than adults do; rather, they
need to be engaged. Offer them music that is beautiful, and they will
respond.

There is one other piece: children and youth need to learn to "do church",
too, which means learning how to use the hymnal -- therefore some of the
music while the children and youth are in worship (children's, youth,
family, multigenerational -- whatever!) should use the hymnal, so they learn
that part of "doing church.”

Ringing Tributes

Sara Cloe in Hillsboro, Oregon
“Allison Wilski is our super talented Music Director. She wrote a lovely recessional for the children. She just debuted a wonderful original song at our contemporary music service. Allison is a joy to work with!”
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Beth Kline in Marietta, Georgia
I am grateful for the incredible professional leadership and cooperative music ministry that Emerson UU Congregation's Choir Director, Dr. Kathy Creasy Mittelman, leads at our congregation.

She is the first to step forward to coordinate Christmas Eve Family Worship pageant music with the kids - even though she has a second, later service that night that is music-based and she leads both with joy.

She has invited & lead children's singing along with adult chancel choir members when she found music that lent itself to doing that - it was powerful and amazing.

She is happy to let other professional choral musicians step in to lead special event children's choirs -since she is very part-time with us and has two other career positions that she juggles.

She has bonded the Choir singers- over 35 of them in a congregation of 120 adults - into a special group of truly "mission-oriented" souls who share their gift of music so that our Congregation rings with the emotions of rejoicing, celebration and renewal every Sunday with her help.

She's amazing.




Stories:

The little boy was probably not yet five. He was a high energy, very kinetic kid, having a hard time learning appropriate sanctuary behavior on the Sundays the children started in "big church". He was as likely to be found crawling under the chairs as in one. One Sunday as we sang a familiarand repetitive song I watched him suddenly jump up, grab a hymnal, open it up (to the wrong page and upside down), and begin to sing along. He was clearly learning to "do church"!
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The little girl was about three. She loved sitting beside her mother in church, and was a regular. We stood to sing "Spirit of Life" -- one her mother sang at home, one she had learned by heart. She joyfully joined in, loud and horribly off key. The faces of the adults near her were filled with delight as she sang all the words. She was blissfully unaware of their attention, just enjoying singing along and being part of the congregation.
The look on her mother's face, though, is what brought tears to my eyes, looking down at her with a complex mix of pride and embarrassment, but
clearly loving being at church with her daughter.
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On the Sunday we were celebrating Martin Luther King Day, there was a father sitting with his two daughters -- about 10 and 12 -- in the front row. I stood to lead them in "We Shall Overcome". I knew his history, that he had been an active part of the Civil Rights movement in the 60's, registering African American voters in the south, riding buses, and, on at least one occasion, being assaulted. He picked up his hymnal, without looking to see what we were singing. I said (not just to him, but to everyone) that they should put down their hymnals -- they wouldn't need them. An argumentative sort, he kept his -- until he heard what we were singing. He ended up closing his eyes, and putting his arms around his daughters while he sang this so-familiar song. They could see the music was moving him deeply, though I suspect they wouldn't fully understand why until later. Still, it was a moment when the music was touching an entire family, and drawing them closer together.
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I found out recently that when one of my daughters was in junior high and high school, she used to tell her Sunday School teachers she had to go to the bathroom in order to sneak into the sanctuary to listen to the choir.
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Finally, one of the things I always enjoy, and have watched several times, is seeing an older sibling show younger new reader how to read the order of worship to figure out which hymn to look up, and follow along from verse to verse in the hymnal.

Here in Portland with the UU Musicians

It's really hot in the Pacific Northwest. I mean really hot. It was 106 degrees today here in Portland.

That is so hot. I mean, wherever you might be, 106 is hot. But here in the Pacific Northwest where most folks have no air conditioning and we get all steamy when it's 78 degrees; this is incredibly hot.

So here I am in Portland, representing the Liberal Religious Educators Association. We are intentionally trying to work together with all our colleagues (musicians, ministers, and administrators) to create fantastic collegial relationships. Here's the description of our workshop for tomorrow, it sums things up pretty well:


The UUMN and Liberal Religious Educators Association (LREDA) are currently working together to lift up supportive and reciprocal staff relationships. This workshop brings religious educators and musicians together and shares stories of how to initiate and invite partnership between staff members, with a focus on how to remove obstacles of habit, silos, and territorialism.

It's a little tiny bit mind blowing to be here with so many UU musicians. I met very briefly with the UUMN board today. It was 3pm on day two of their meetings. And they were still smiling, still laughing, still coming up with fresh ideas and innovative plans.

That is effective and engaged leadership.

I went to the Compline (final church service of the day in the monastic tradition) and my soul soared with the fine music.

I walked back from the Compline service with Jason Shelton and got to confess in a "fan moment' that the ringtone on my cell phone is actually the first measures of "The Fire of Commitment" but really, we had even more fun talking about our kids.

I got to give a great big hug to Minister of Music at the Minnesota Valley UU Fellowship; Sonja Johnston. This is my home congregation from age 10 to about 36. She taught me "Spirit of Life" and was my AYS teacher when I was 14 and played the wedding march at my wedding. Here we are together at a conference. I am humbled and amazed!

The conferece seems to be brilliantly organized. There are so many things to make you feel welcome and part of the whole. There is a "goody bag" of things to make your stay easier from coupons for half priced meals to a travel mug to a name tag that says "new" to let everyone know that you need a kind word and a helping hand. And there was a copy of the new Spanish language hymnal and many, many samples of sheet music. I can't wait to sift through it all.

And can I say enough about Keith Arnold, the president of the UUMN. He's kind, warm, amazingly organized. And I think maybe even a friend. He serves the musicans and all UUs so well. We are lucky.

So, I'll hope for a little cooler weather tomorrow for the hike (five blocks!) to First Church. I'll look forward to the good worship that is bound to happen, and to the good conversations I know will happen. I'm honored to be here and honored to serve on the LREDA board.

Amazing.

Coming of Age, Part 2

It may be odd, or imagination, but I believe I could feel my son as the expanse of Lake Superior came into view for him, today. I was standing in the kitchen here on the west coast, and I had the same feeling I always got as a girl, breaching the hill, feeling the suddenly cool air, seeing the disappearing shore and the grey icy water.

I looked at the clock, it was about the time you would expect the camp bus to be headed into Duluth.

There is a part of me that deeply wishes, just a little part of me, that I was of a culture who had the tradition of kidnapping the children for their coming of age ritual. Even though those mothers well know the kidnappers to be beloved uncles and brothers, they are able to weep and wail and mourn the loss of their child. I have no such permission. But I feel it just the same.

The steaming weather seems to just cook it in. My child; becoming a young man. My years of mothering him as a child; over. Yes, a new reality will grow. A new young man in my house and my heart. But that little elf-smile child, just a memory.

I spoke to him for a few minutes last night. He had read all of the letters we'd gathered from the special men in his life. He'd read half his book. He was calm and ready to go. Just now he's about settled in at the camp, there is no road in, you have to paddle a big voyageur style canoe across the lake. He'll settle in with his group, head to the dining hall for dinner, learn new songs around a camp fire. And tomorrow he'll carve his own canoe paddle, ready to take out on the wild lakes and rivers of the far north. Mosquitos, dirt, sweat, exhaustion, pain and frustration, it will all leave him ready for this next phase, his youth.

My baby. My son.

One Year Since

Time spins so very fast. Last year on the last Sunday in July, our beloved community of Unitarian Universalists was attacked by a gunman, driven by hate.

It's been a whole year.

We've seen a beautiful model of how to face hate in a sanctuary, and how to close ranks with love and keep that hate out. Tennessee Valley UU Church and Westside UU Church have chosen to stand on the side of love. A love that is a fierce and abiding love. This is no frilly place to be, this is a Sequoia like love with roots that wrap around bedrock and branches that reach to the heavens.

Because we have been tried, we are all a bit stronger in this, our beloved community. And a bit wiser. We have evacuation plans, and greeters who keep an eye out for trouble. We know where the exits are and where to take the children if we have a lock down. It's not pleasant to plan for such events, but it helps us straighten our shoulders, square them off and say "we will not shrink back, we will face hate and fight fiercely with the best weapon we know; we will fight with love".

We opened our service last year on the first week of August with hymn number 1. May Nothing Evil Cross This Door. I repeated it though the year in many children's worship celebrations, hoping some would learn the words and have them to hold in their hearts when things are hard. At our year end celebration, I spoke the works as our music director played the hymn solemnly, reverently, like a slow and thoughtful waltz.

I believe in our beloved community with all my heart.

"....and though these sheltering walls are thin, may they be strong to keep hate out, and hold love in."

Coming of Age

Our son Peter turned 14 last October. In our little corner of UU Understanding, this is the age when we do our "confirmation", our "bar mitzvah", our ritualized initiation into manhood. Our Coming of Age.

This year at church, there were only two 8th graders, and the other one wasn't much into going to church or church activities. Some of the kids of Middle School age did OWL (Our Whole Lives Sexuality Curriculum) at the local big huge church who warmly welcomes us in, but when it came time to think about COA, well, we just weren't up for it. He'd have been the only kid from outside that church, it was on Sunday mornings. There was just too much in the way. So we decided we'd do a family Coming of Age, including a wilderness adventure trip.

But I didn't think the day would actually come and I'd have to actually send my son away on a wilderness adventure!

What was I thinking?

We looked at camps here in the Pacific Northwest, we looked at Stan Crowe's Rite of Passage Journeys. And we looked at YMCA Camp Menogyn, in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness of far northern Minnesota. Menogyn is the camp that I went through as a teen, the last trip 45 days of canoeing to Hudson Bay, a float plane to fly us out at the end.

Yep, there was really no contest. Although I would have liked him to take the Rite of Passage trip, he was one year to young. In the end, Menogyn was clearly the best choice. They have canoe trips that go out for a good length of time, even for middle schoolers. It was late into the summer when I called to register, but they fit him into a 14 day trip that includes an extra day in camp making a canoe paddle. Yes, making a canoe paddle. A paddle, making it. And canoeing. And portaging. That's carrying the canoe on your shoulders over land between the lakes and around the rapid and falls.

The plan was for my husband to swing by Minneapolis on his way to Atlanta tomorrow and bring Peter to my parent's house, and they would bring him to the camp bus in the morning. But we fly this crazy non-rev thing, you go when seats are available. The flights in the morning started filling up, and the redeye flight had more than a dozen seats open.

At about 7pm tonight, they decided to go tonight, to leave on the redeye. To go at midnight. My baby, leaving. Not only leaving for camp for two weeks, but leaving his childhood.

Excuse me while I sob for a while.

When Michael, our 17-year-old did his Coming of Age program at the wonderful big church in town, we had some specific structure to help us through. There were mentors, and there was an adult in charge of making sure all went well. There was history and tradition and rituals.

This was just us. Luckily, I'm really into the rituals. So I had some idea of what to do.

A few weeks ago, we sent out letters to some of the good men in Peter's life asking them to share some wisdom about becoming a man, and chosing a life.

We got such amazing letters from so many good men. God, we're lucky to have this community of men for our sons.

We bought him a great journal, a suede cover that wraps around with a strap, I got him "Canoeing with the Cree", by Eric Sevaride which follows almost the same route I took at 17. We stood in a circle outside, with a circle of candles in front of us. We all wished him well on his trip, we gave him his gift, we gave him the letters with an explanation of what they were. And then we asked him to hold a length of ribbon, my husband and I held the other end, the ribbon symbolized his childhood. We handed scissors to our seventeen year old, and he cut the ribbon. When he comes back from his trip, we'll tie the ends together as a symbol of our new relationship, of his youth, his new stage of life.

I thanked him for being my child, and his great childhood years. And then he was off.

Now I just have to find some way to survive these next two weeks, and some way to never, ever let my youngest grow-up! Ever!

Parenting Tip No. 3

Figure out exactly what you are going to have for dinner by 10 am. If you do not do this all hope is lost and your family will be licking empty tuna cans for dinner with glassy eyes and disheveled hair.

Or something like that.

And please, will someone remind me of this tomorrow by 9:55 am? My children ate quesadillas and grapes tonight. No meat, no veggies, no nice warm family dinner after all our scampering about. Nope, instead we had mom hollering some nonsense from the kitchen about just why it was always the mother's job to cook and why on earth wasn't the laundry done, anyhow?

Actually, dinner was really nice. We were all whirlwind-busy all day. The little dog went on a good long hike in the foothills of the cascades with me and her middle boy while he broke in his new boots for a his upcoming long canoe trip. The youngest is still undefeated at fencing camp, and looks so darn cute, I mean handsome, in his fencing jacket. The oldest worked both his jobs; math tutor at the college and lifeguard. Our father figure is flying all over the country again, keeping airplanes safe to fly on for you and me. So we just toasted up some tortillas and cheese, poured some salsa in a bowl, washed some grapes and ignored the disaster on the kitchen table to go sit on the patio and eat our simple dinner.

I am so lucky that I really, really like my children. Yes, I have learned that life is easier if you know in the morning what you're having for dinner. Even better is a weekly meal plan that you stick to. But sometimes life isn't like that. Sometimes you just have to figure something out.

After dinner they all worked like mad to make a clean kitchen and even a picked-up living room and family room. I feel sane, they're out car-part shopping and I think we'll have pork chops and corn on the cob for dinner tomorrow. See? I already feel much more calm. It just might be safe to take the tuna cans out to the recycling.

Standing on the Side of Love

Must read.

Thanks to the blogger Kim Hampton at "East of Midnight" for getting permission to publish this letter from the Rev. Dr. Mary J. Harrington.