He Who Sings Prays Twice

So said St. Augustine, anyway...

Last night, being Friday, was Community Activity night. The Community Commitee being short on ideas, we ended up going out for supper by pod (the community bedrooms are grouped around central living room areas, or "pods"). Despite the humble origin of the idea, it was a good night.

My pod, the smallest due to various reasons, went out for supper to a Vietnamese restaurant in St. Albert.
Possibly because we were the fewest, or possibly because we were something else, we were the first pod back at the Sem--except that we didn't stay there. Fr. Marco and Maurice had other, more pressing duties, but the remaining four of us got back in the car, and drove off towards the south end of Edmonton. One of the guys was on a mission for his Vicar General, who had broken a liquor glass on a fairly expensive set. Naturally, we found out upon arrival that either John had been given the wrong name of the set, or that they didn't make them anymore... or something. In any event, we went away glass-less.

On the way back we were going to stop at a pie place, and have a late dessert. Except... we couldn't find it. (Completely incidentally, we were held up in the middle of this by an accident scene. It looked like a jaywalker had been hit... it was dark, and not surprising, but still sad.)

Fortunately, we were third time lucky, and though we couldn't find a glass, and couldn't find the pie place, we managed to find the Seminary, pulling in after an hour and more of what amounted to aimless driving.

But it was a very good time regardless. I definitely need to get out of this building and the regular routines a bit more often with a broader variety of my fellows.

Anyway, after pulling in around 8:30, Geoffrey and I headed over to the Chapel to practise one of the psalms for Cathedral Vespers on Monday. Monday is St. Joseph's Feastday, and St. Joseph being the patron of the Seminary, the diocese, and the entire country, it's a pretty big celebration. I was a wee bit queasy about the prospect of being asked to be cantor for one of the psalms, but I don't really know how to say no, I'm afraid.

That said, I learned the psalm in short order, which speaks volumes of both how easy the psalm is, and how good an accompanist Geoffrey is. He's our foremost musical virtuoso, Fr. Eric possibly excepted.
Geoffrey sings (beautifully), plays the piano (I know he taught before coming to Seminary), and can compose. What we're going to do when he graduates, I don't like to think.

In any case, what started as a practise for one psalm turned into an hour-long session of Geoffrey playing and me singing. It was an awesome time. It was evening, and well past supper, which meant that my voice was blessedly free of a messy-feeling throat. Fr. Eric turned up in the chapel's balcony halfway through, and we had an audience.

I don't normally think of myself as a good singer... though I know I'm better than the average, having the ability to hit notes and having a voice that can project. But, blame it on various childhood events if you like, I don't think of myself as a good singer. But last night... I was almost willing to accept Geoffrey and Fr. Eric's word that I have a beautiful voice.

No, I'm not being egotistic. I'm reliving a moment that meant a great deal to me. I should like to hear me sing on tape, if I could... I've never heard me sing solo. And if talking sounds different inside your head than on tape, then I'm sure singing does as well.

Of course... my experience is that if the rehearsal goes too well, there will be problems with the main performance. We'll see how I do with Psalm 112 on Monday.