Music Memoir - Standing Still

For the fifth time in a single day, I stood, silent and unmoving, as organist Gregory Peterson played this piece. It was rehearsal for Christmas at Luther in late November of 2007, my freshman year at Luther College, and every piece needed to be rehearsed.

By the end of rehearsals and performances, I had heard this piece more than a two dozen times. Because the Norsemen, the freshman men's choir, was center stage during the performance, I needed to stand still during the whole piece. For the full three and a half minutes, I had to face forward with a neutral expression, unable to sit, emote, or even move.

By the final performance, I hated this piece. Every note was seared into my brain, to the point that I knew, instinctually, when it was ending and the "good" part of the performance, where I got to sing, would soon resume.

For years afterward, whenever I listened to the recording and this song started, I would skip past it. It was just some dumb organ piece, I told myself. Besides, I'd heard it enough during all those rehearsals.

Finally, five or six years later, I was driving and the piece began to play. I was busy navigating snowy roads and didn't change to the next song. And, finally listening to it, I found that it was actually a fun piece.

It made me think about how our perceptions can change based on our circumstances. What I once found a burden to listen to, I was now able to find beauty in. What once signaled a 'boring' three and half minutes of standing still, I now enjoyed and wished it lasted longer.

When we are in the middle of something, it can be hard to see it with an unbiased view. Sometimes, we need the distance of time to appreciate an event. And so with Advent we wait, so that in waiting we may better appreciate the gift we have been given.