Psalm 1

Psalm 1

1 Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
2 but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,
and who meditates on his law day and night.
3 That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither—
whatever they do prospers.

4 Not so the wicked!
They are like chaff
that the wind blows away.
5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.

6 For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked leads to destruction.

Focus.
This is one of the few psalms that–to me–read more like a proverb than a “psalm” as we’ve come to think of them. It lends itself to a bit of wisdom.

The structure of this psalm is beautiful. Here, I wish I knew how to discuss Hebrew Parallelism on my blog, because it is excellently represented in this psalm. Verses 1 through 3 depict a man who is blessed; verses 4 and 5 show us a man who is wicked. And verse 6 wraps it all up for us. I think there is something to be gleaned here.

At first glance, it may seem that the focus of this psalm is man. Blessed is the man. More specifically, this psalm is a contrast between a righteous man and a wicked man. The blessed man is productive and rooted down to a healthy habitat, while the wicked man is blown around without foundation. While this is true, it is incomplete; it misses the essential point.

What if we change the emphasis? Blessed is the man. It helps us to see this more as a psalm about the blessings of righteousness. It is a not a focus of what a righteous man looks like so much as it is a focus of the blessings the Almighty bestows on those who seek hard after Him. He establishes the blessed man near life-giving water and causes him to grow; He brings fruition to the blessed man’s life and deeds (i.e.: Romans 8:28).

The man is blessed. But is the subject the man and how he is blessed? Yes; however, it also immediately demands answer: Blessed by whom? The answer, of course, is given at the close: The LORD watches over him.

Music.
There is nothing overtly musical about this psalm, but the more I consider it, the more I find myself convinced of rhythm. Look at the blessed man: There is a ritual, a returning and repeating of his blessings.

He is a like a tree that yields its fruit in season. It is not a constant yielding of fruit. It is a preparing, a rest, a growth, and a produce. Every year, the same, being prepared, resting, growing, producing, yielding fruit in season.

Day and night, the blessed man meditates on God’s law. This is not an occasional feast with a King; it is the daily habit of partaking in Christ’s words. This, again, is very rhythmic. It pulses, day after day, night after night, like the heartbeat of the man himself.

Compare this idea of rhythm and repetition to the wicked man: There is no return. He is simply described as chaff, blown by the wind. Does the wind blow a steady course? Is there any stability to it? Any design? Any path toward growth?

Music is structure. It is stability and framework from which we can be artistic and creative. Music is rhythmic, like the day in and day out meditation of the blessed man, and it yields its own fruit (resolution) after much rest (rest), much preparation (harmony, dynamics), much growth (tension, dissonance). It is not a whimsy flowing wherever the musicians take it. Even the most whimsical piece is wrapped up in the structure of scales and dynamics and the intent of the composer.

What does this say about theology?

Something to chew on…
I did not note this in my journal, but today as I’m reading the passage again, I am aware that the blessed man is described as “delighting” and “meditating.” There is no contrast with this in verses 4 and 5.

Thirds: Choir, Parallelism, & 5K

Hello Folks!

The Summer is settling into something far more comfortable, something far less busy, something inspiringly familiar–Autumn. Here’s what’s happening in my Autumn-loving heart.

Choir
Our first rehearsal for the Fall 2013 semester is two days away! I cannot believe it. In 48 hours, folks, I will be overwhelmed with the joys of a first rehearsal. There’s something magical about it, about opening a book of arrangements you’ve never heard before (much less, sung) and attempting to sing through as many pieces as Floyd sees fit with a group incredibly unique to the semester. It can be scary, if you want to know the truth; but more, it is ineffably fun.

I am serving on the Executive Board this year as the Interim Secretary. I’ve been involved in this manner since the end of last semester, so there have been a few meetings during my already crazybusy Summer. I’m very honored to be serving the Choral Society in this manner, and the temporary nature of the position allows me to become more involved in the behind-scenes stuff without falling in “way over my head.” I have to confess, I am loving it. I am having such a great time with the Board, and I am looking forward to an excellent Concert Season.

Parallelism
As an official end to my Summer, and as an ushering in of Autumn, I have resumed my Three-Part Study of the Psalms. I know–this is news to all of you. Some time ago, a conversation with Steve here on my blog challenged me to pick through the Psalms with a fresh perspective. First, I am dissecting each Psalm (in English, not Hebrew) to better understand Hebrew Parallelism. Second, I am considering the focus of each Psalm–whether it is man or God (or both). Third, I am looking for correlations between music/sound and theology.

This is a project I began some time ago and set no goal for finishing. I wanted to give myself ample time to ponder and dig and pray as I studied. Some of my remarks have been quite unimpressive, but there may be nuggets worth discussion somewhere in the midst of it. And because two young ladies that I love and admire have asked me to share my insights as I go along, I have decided to make it a weekly post on my blog. I need to be blogging more anyway, and this will give me cause to do so. I think I will make it my Friday project each week–though, I’m not sure yet whether it’s feasible to share the Parallelism part here; I may skip that for the purpose of the blog. Anyway, be watching for the big Psalm Project!

5K
Well, folks, here it is. The news of the hour. I’ve kept it to myself for the past several weeks, except for a few people from whom I’ve tried to glean an ounce or two of courage! A few weeks ago, I began the Couch to 5K Running program.

You have to understand–I am not a runner. At all. Attempting this program is scary for me. But I realized something today: I just finished week 3. That’s means I’m one third of the way done! Keep me in your prayers, and encourage me as you see fit!

Pax Christi, folks!
Sarah

Reflections on a Reunion

Has it been four weeks already? It seems like yesterday, I was hugging my cousins. I think Steve said it best in an email the other day: “I guess you’re back on your busy, crazy schedule, huh?” I suppose I am, because life seems to be rushing past me with few moments to reflect, rest, refocus. I confess it freely, but not as complaint. Life is great. I am doing well. This weekend is the first chance I’ve really had to be alone, to be quiet.

I would trade it, of course, if I could spend the weekend with my relatives again. Since I can’t, I will opt for the next best: I’ll finally settle myself long enough to write about the Reunion and my excellent family.

To be fair, I have to tell you that for all my excitement and anticipation, I was incredibly anxious about the Reunion for several reasons. My nephew’s condition was growing worse and my brother and sister-in-law were trying to coordinate a trip to Mayo in Rochester; my sister gave me some good, but difficult to handle (for me) news; work was a bit overly-dramatic in several regards; another sister was visiting; I was feeling a bit depressed because we were nearing the two-year anniversary of Rodger’s death; I was on a new medication that was making me very sick to my stomach (I just couldn’t wait to get to the Reunion and vomit up everyone’s wonderful food). On top of all this, I had an irrational fear that no one was going to show up for the Reunion. So you can see, the Reunion came with much “life.”

We gathered in Frankenmuth, Michigan–home to our Schmitzer roots. We rented a pavilion at Heritage Park, right along the Cass River. It was beautifully situated, with many trees and a nearby playground for the kids. It was also tucked away a little bit so we weren’t right next to any other event that was happening over the weekend (and listen, there was a lot going on at Heritage Park). We had worried about being out in the summer heat on a July afternoon, but incredibly–we had a beautiful day, warm enough to enjoy, splashes of sunshine, and intermittent rain showers. It could not have been better!

Food? Oh, there was more food than we could have eaten. I still can’t figure out how it happened. When we were planning the Reunion, I asked Uncle John what he remembered about Reunions from his youth, and one thing he said was that there were always “tables lined with every kind of food imaginable.” I remember his exact words, because I remember thinking, “Okay, I get it–there was a lot of food.” But honestly? I think his words were an accurate depiction of our food situation at this Reunion. There was so much. So, so much. And we didn’t even cut into the watermelon!

I can’t tell you exactly how many people attended the Reunion. I mentioned that I had an irrational fear that no one would attend. This was intensified by folks asking me how many people I expected would come, to which I hopefully replied, “Thirty? Forty? I hope?” I figured that if only those I knew about would attend, we’d have around thirty. Well, here’s what I can tell you. I know there were several people who (unfortunately!) had to leave before we took the group photo (yeah, this is something we’ll have to coordinate better next year). And how many were in the group photo? Sixty. Sixty heads in the group picture.

I have to admit, I was relieved with the turnout. There were so many Schmitzers there!

But enough for the logistics of it all. What were some of the highlights? I’ll try to give a quick recap of some of my favorite mentions:

  • Uncle John’s hugs. I can’t explain why, I just love his hugs.
  • The twins: Jamie and Travis’ daughters were (I think) the youngest in attendance, and they were adorable! It was wonderful to have some young faces at the Reunion.
  • Aunt Verna was my grandpa Herman’s cousin on the Trinklein side. Okay, so she isn’t “technically” a Schmitzer. But you know what? I am so glad she was there! She was one of the best parts of the Reunion for me. I heard stories of my grandparents, and my great-grandparents. What a blessing! What a beautiful woman! I think she said she is 96 years old.
  • We brought a large print poster of an old Schmitzer Reunion (unsure of the year, but some seemed to think it was in 67 or 68) and spread it out with markers, asking people to identify anyone they recognized. In the end, there were only a few names on the poster, but it sure generated a lot of discussion, and it was so cool to see people pointing and talking around the poster!
  • Dori. What an incredible woman.
  • My siblings and cousins. Wow! What fun…I can’t tell you how cool these people are. If you knew, you’d be jealous!

But what tops everything? What was the highlight of all highlights?

My Mom.

I wish I could explain this. I have known my mom my whole life (right?), and she is one of my closest friends as an adult. But when family started to arrive, I felt like I saw my mother for the very first time. She opened up, like a beautiful flower that had been waiting for the sun to shine–she just unfurled, right there, with her family. She told me that she was nervous about the Reunion because we had been talking about names of cousins, etc, and she would say, “I know the name, but I can’t quite picture them.” And all of that resolved when she saw people at the Reunion. It was as if she became this woman I never knew she was. Or…she was able to be herself, more than I’d ever witnessed before. It was absolutely wonderful.

So…there you have it, folks. I leave you with two photos. The first is my niece and me; the second is our beautiful group photo.

Pax!

Sarah

schmitzer reunion 375

schmitzer reunion 291

Schmitzer Family Reunion

In fourteen days, I will be in Frankenmuth, eagerly awaiting the arrival of my dear cousin, Cindy-Loo-Hoo.

It began last year. When Cindy’s father, my dear Uncle Wayne, passed away in September, Cindy began planning to honor his wishes and bring him home to Michigan and to celebrate his life with the family here. As we began talking and preparing for the event, as Cindy’s travel plans began to solidify, it seemed the only logical thing to do was to take advantage of the opportunity and have a good old-fashioned Family Reunion. After all, if Cindy — whom I have never met in my 30-some years of life — was going to make the trip all the way to Michigan from Florida, we had better make it worth her while and gather as much of the family as humanly possible.

In some regards, the past ten months have been a blur. The brainstorming, the planning, has taken more time and attention than I expected. In my mind, it was just yesterday that we decided to really open up the reunion and send invitations to cousins outside of the immediate clan. It was just yesterday that Cindy told me she just wanted to make it through the holidays and get to the summer, so she could hug all of her family. It was just yesterday. And now suddenly–we are fourteen days from Cindy’s arrival; fifteen from the Reunion.

Am I excited?

I am feeling overwhelmed at the moment. There is still so much to plan, to think about, to prepare (not to mention the food). And in the midst of all of it, there are personal things happening that are vying for my attention. I just want to enjoy this Reunion. The Schmitzer heritage is such an enormous part of who I am, and the family history I can glean from a gathering like this is going to be heavier than a February blizzard. I have to be prepared and be smart about recording information.

In spite of all the time and thought already invested, I feel very, very unprepared.

Still, I know that once we get on the road, I am going to be overloaded with excitement. Until then, I just need to keep focused and keep working through the wrinkles…

Pax Christi.
Sarah

She Sings the Dawn

Just before the light of day,
before the rising of the world,
gripped in silence, darkness, shame,
there the rolling dawn unfurls.

She breathes the chill of night away.
It fades to navy, purple, flame.
There the morning song resumes,
beneath the twilight of the day

and waking trees and yawning streams.
The meadow needn’t fear her dreams.
She sings the dawn, the rising sun,
and Life begins–again.

semmie.

The Elusive Novel & Who Was At the Temple

I’ve been working on my elusive fantasy novel. I have avoided it for too long, primarily because my villain and I were not seeing eye-to-eye about her behavior. However, I think I am finally back on speaking terms with all of my characters. We may not agree, but we’re on speaking terms.

I’ve decided to simplify the novel’s perspective. Instead of writing from each character’s viewpoint and shifting around, I am going to return to the original concept and just follow the main character. At least for the time-being. I think this is going to make more sense. It’s also going to facilitate something I really struggle with in my writing: Keeping Secrets. Writing from one perspective will, I think, cause the reader to ask more questions; and it may be, in the end, that only Koon, Steve, and I know who else was at the Temple on that fateful day.

I am struggling, however, with age propriety. I have already made the characters older than they were in my very first draft for believability’s sake, but I sense that they are still behaving older. It may require some tweaking, but I suppose it will have to wait for my beta readers.

Interestingly, I met one of my brother’s students and she had the same name as the Healer in my story. I thought I was being original in my name selection, so this came as a surprise to me. Still, kind of cool.

Where does it end? In an episode of NCIS, DiNozzo gives McGee grief about not knowing how his story is going to end. I laughed, but the truth is that I know a lot of writers who don’t know how their story will end. It’s more common than I would have expected. Still, it concerns me. If I don’t know where it ends, I won’t know where to stop. I am so in love with this world and these people that I fear I would just keep writing and writing and writing and…and someday realize that I’ve outwritten the story I started with.

So. Anybody have a suggestion for an ending? :)