This is Durgapur Cathedral as it is now. It's gorgeous just as it is with fabulous acoustics, even though it's all cement. On November 14, there was an ordination for three priests in this sanctified place. I cannot think of a better setting. Flowers, cows, trees, open air sanctuary, glorious music, heartfelt and holy liturgy and a place filled to overflowing; all of us part of God's creation and offering our community to the rest of the world. It was my first opportunity to have all the choirs sing, and be the organist.
The adult church choir sang the ordination chant 'Come Holy Ghost our hearts inspire' and poignant communion music. Both school choirs sang separately. For St. Peter's Choir this was their first offering ever! They sang 'Simple Gifts' beautifully, and St. Michael's sang 'Let all things now living.' One thing I could offer each choir was a way to improve their English diction and their understanding of the meaning of the theology in the lyrics. Both these schools are English-Medium, which means that classes are taught with emphasis on English, and Bengali as a back-up. I was blessed to have an accompanist for both choirs: one was Christian, the other Hindu; we had excellent electronic keyboards and the only challenge was to encourage both these men that not every sacred song needed a rock rhythm section behind it! But these toys are so enticing that it's hard to refrain from experimenting.
My greatest joy, however, happened when the Hostel Choir sang 'Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God.' One of the teachers before me had taught them the basics already, so I had all the fun of making their English understandable, their sound beautiful, and letting the little ones sing the descant at the end. They sang from memory, and made a joyful, beautiful noise to the Lord. The Bishop wanted to shout to the world that even the poorest of the poor are talented, holy and perfect just as they are and can do great things for India, their families and their standing in the world if they are nurtured, taught well and given an opportunity to show their gifts. Most of these children go to Bengali schools, but their English was equal to the choirs in the private schools. God is Good!
I promised you a blog or two ago that I'd tell you the results of my 'episode' of stuttering, walking unsteadily, etc. The old-fashioned doctor/internist who runs a free clinic three days a week looked, listened, thought carefully and sent me to one of the private hospitals for evaluation. All tests came out normal, as I suspected they would, but just for thoroughness they sent me home on 'sick leave' so my own doctors could evaluate me too. My doctors agreed with all the previous tests. The Bishop thought I should not return for health reasons and I was heart-broken. I thought I was adjusting well to India, working with its quirks in a patient and friendly way. I loved and respected almost all the colleagues and students I came into contact with, and was answering God's call by letting His love pour through me to all with whom I interacted. Being a music teacher is self-refreshing, stimulating and rewarding. I set boundaries so I wouldn't wear out.
But that's exactly what happened anyway. My job load was beyond what any two people could do, but only I knew it. Often, people not acquainted with music do not understand that there are two hours of preparation behind every hour of rehearsal and working without any printed music ever, adds even more obstacles, some insurmountable. One day in December 2011, I realized I had been running on fumes for weeks; there was no reserve left. I went into the hospital the next day. When I was released both the Bishop in Durgapur and Head of Mission Personnel in New York, agreed I should return home to see my own doctors, then return India for the Great Thanksgiving Festival in February, which I desperately wanted to do. It would have been the culmination of my mission to Durgapur, and the Choirs were singing so beautifully!
I had already planned how to reconfigure the duties and record the songs on computer before I returned to India. The Bishop, however, determined I should not return at all, but take the opportunity to rest. I did not want to obey his wishes, because ever since I arrived, I knew I finally had come 'home,' and that conviction remains as strong as ever. By the time I arrived in Green Bay however, I realized the extent of my exhaustion physically, emotionally and spiritually. God has not left me, but there is something waiting which will be revealed in its own time. I do not say this glibly; there is a multitude of contradicting, mysterious and baffling ingredients all mixing together in some sort of existential stew. There's rage, sadness beyond words, self-reflection, hope and confidence, and love for God's unfathomable path for me. Breathe,.. trust... breathe... trust...breathe...
Poems and what I call 'prosems' are are surfacing almost daily. By letting out these contradicting feelings or remembrances which produce intense nausea, I can process them, clean house, cherish the personal transformations and most importantly, let go of the people and events which promise to poison me.
I have found great joy at being in my 'other home,' where life is more predictable. Mostly I have
cherished the love and generosity of my friends and family, since it was Christmas time; a fine time to have a sick leave. And catch up on Packer games. Go Pack, go! What remains, however, is a deep ache to return to India in some way for a long time.
I will keep writing my blog because there are so many other things to tell you about India that you will be delighted to know them.
The adult church choir sang the ordination chant 'Come Holy Ghost our hearts inspire' and poignant communion music. Both school choirs sang separately. For St. Peter's Choir this was their first offering ever! They sang 'Simple Gifts' beautifully, and St. Michael's sang 'Let all things now living.' One thing I could offer each choir was a way to improve their English diction and their understanding of the meaning of the theology in the lyrics. Both these schools are English-Medium, which means that classes are taught with emphasis on English, and Bengali as a back-up. I was blessed to have an accompanist for both choirs: one was Christian, the other Hindu; we had excellent electronic keyboards and the only challenge was to encourage both these men that not every sacred song needed a rock rhythm section behind it! But these toys are so enticing that it's hard to refrain from experimenting.
My greatest joy, however, happened when the Hostel Choir sang 'Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God.' One of the teachers before me had taught them the basics already, so I had all the fun of making their English understandable, their sound beautiful, and letting the little ones sing the descant at the end. They sang from memory, and made a joyful, beautiful noise to the Lord. The Bishop wanted to shout to the world that even the poorest of the poor are talented, holy and perfect just as they are and can do great things for India, their families and their standing in the world if they are nurtured, taught well and given an opportunity to show their gifts. Most of these children go to Bengali schools, but their English was equal to the choirs in the private schools. God is Good!
I promised you a blog or two ago that I'd tell you the results of my 'episode' of stuttering, walking unsteadily, etc. The old-fashioned doctor/internist who runs a free clinic three days a week looked, listened, thought carefully and sent me to one of the private hospitals for evaluation. All tests came out normal, as I suspected they would, but just for thoroughness they sent me home on 'sick leave' so my own doctors could evaluate me too. My doctors agreed with all the previous tests. The Bishop thought I should not return for health reasons and I was heart-broken. I thought I was adjusting well to India, working with its quirks in a patient and friendly way. I loved and respected almost all the colleagues and students I came into contact with, and was answering God's call by letting His love pour through me to all with whom I interacted. Being a music teacher is self-refreshing, stimulating and rewarding. I set boundaries so I wouldn't wear out.
But that's exactly what happened anyway. My job load was beyond what any two people could do, but only I knew it. Often, people not acquainted with music do not understand that there are two hours of preparation behind every hour of rehearsal and working without any printed music ever, adds even more obstacles, some insurmountable. One day in December 2011, I realized I had been running on fumes for weeks; there was no reserve left. I went into the hospital the next day. When I was released both the Bishop in Durgapur and Head of Mission Personnel in New York, agreed I should return home to see my own doctors, then return India for the Great Thanksgiving Festival in February, which I desperately wanted to do. It would have been the culmination of my mission to Durgapur, and the Choirs were singing so beautifully!
I had already planned how to reconfigure the duties and record the songs on computer before I returned to India. The Bishop, however, determined I should not return at all, but take the opportunity to rest. I did not want to obey his wishes, because ever since I arrived, I knew I finally had come 'home,' and that conviction remains as strong as ever. By the time I arrived in Green Bay however, I realized the extent of my exhaustion physically, emotionally and spiritually. God has not left me, but there is something waiting which will be revealed in its own time. I do not say this glibly; there is a multitude of contradicting, mysterious and baffling ingredients all mixing together in some sort of existential stew. There's rage, sadness beyond words, self-reflection, hope and confidence, and love for God's unfathomable path for me. Breathe,.. trust... breathe... trust...breathe...
Poems and what I call 'prosems' are are surfacing almost daily. By letting out these contradicting feelings or remembrances which produce intense nausea, I can process them, clean house, cherish the personal transformations and most importantly, let go of the people and events which promise to poison me.
I have found great joy at being in my 'other home,' where life is more predictable. Mostly I have
cherished the love and generosity of my friends and family, since it was Christmas time; a fine time to have a sick leave. And catch up on Packer games. Go Pack, go! What remains, however, is a deep ache to return to India in some way for a long time.
I will keep writing my blog because there are so many other things to tell you about India that you will be delighted to know them.
What a lovely story. Thank you Lynn! And the cows! Holy cows, huh? I grieve for the fact that you had to return home but am pleased to know it was nothing serious. I am sure God will open another door for you. I understand about the workload and being tired. It's just overwhelming at times. Everything seems to take twice as long and twice as much effort. But look for that other door that's being opened and don't be afraid to enter!
ReplyDeletehello, is there some way to contact ms griebling? i was a student of hers at carleton college in 1972. just chanced upon this webpage and thought i could send her a warm hello after so many years. joseph lin (new zealand)
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