We just got back from our parish’s Maundy Thursday Eucharist. It’s one of my favorite services of the year, dark and mysterious. We contemplate with awe Jesus’s faithfulness to God that evening long ago, knowing as he did the terrible fate his faithfulness would soon bring upon him.
As always at our M-T services, the children’s choir, thirty or more strong, sang subdued, sometimes faintly-mournful hymns and anthems. Their soprano voices, accompanied by piano, cello, and oboe, created a magical blend, especially in the dim light.
This evening an adult chorister, a soprano, sang soaring obligatos (obligati?) and descants. A delightful surprise, adding to the magic.
The cherry on top was that our daughter, formerly a children’s chorister, has graduated to the acolyte ranks and “had the duty” tonight — as my Jewish friends would say, an occasion for nachas.
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