The Kitchen Sink
An occasional piece of paper
December 21, 2008
Vol. 11 no. 50

Everything But...
           Traditions are created out of all sorts of needs. The boys choir of Kings College Chapel, Cambridge, begins the Nine Lessons and Carols service with “Once in David’s Royal City,” the first verse soloed by one of the better singers. Given the packed sanctuary, the BBC cameras and recorders in plain view, broadcasting all over the world, that is a tall order for a young boy. The director knows that anticipation is the worst part of performance, so he does not tell the chosen lad until minutes before the performance begins. This cuts down on anxiety and allows an honest humility to come out of the voice. Hart Godden selects our soloist a lot earlier than in Cambridge. Ask her afterwards if she were nervous!
          Wouldn’t it be nice if the most beautiful things in life didn’t cause us the most anxiety? To do something beautiful is seldom without cost. It costs us labour, often money, the commitment of our time, energy, creativity, and yes, anxiety. Yet the most beautiful acts of a well-lived life are priceless - both in the sense that you can’t earn much money from them, and that no amount of money or wealth can ever be equivalent to a thing of real beauty.
          Somehow, we have discounted beauty as an example of the religious life. True, music, art, literature, film all must compete with secular expressions and faith seldom is a factor in evaluating beauty. “Something beautiful for God,” wrote Malcolm Muggeridge about Mother Teresa of Calcutta in her unreserved love for suffering people, suffering their indignities as she comforted and cared for them. Beauty takes on different shapes, tones, and voices: a song, a painting, an unasked for act of love.
          [this is a 'rerun' from December 18, 2005]