Read The Countertenor Wore Garlic (The Liturgical Mysteries) Online
Authors: Mark Schweizer
The choir had robed and was waiting downstairs in the narthex to process. I played the prelude, then started the hymn
For All The Saints.
I could hear the congregation singing as I played, then the individual voices of the choir as they came into the sanctuary.
For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
Who Thee by faith before the world confessed,
Thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress and their Might;
Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well fought fight;
Thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light.
Alleluia, Alleluia!
This hymn has eight verses, and since we only sang it once a year, we sang them all. I had a couple of alternate harmonizations I used as well as Vaughan Williams', and when the sopranos took off on a descant on the last stanza, I cranked it up.
"Mr. Scott, take us to warp-nine," I heard a little voice in my head say.
"She canna take any more of this, Captain!" answered Scotty from inside the organ console. "She's gonna blow!"
I just hoped the Congregational Enlivener was enjoying himself.
From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast,
Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
And singing to Father, Son and Holy Ghost:
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Benny Dawkins was absent, having been hired for a festival service at Independent Presbyterian Church in Birmingham. He'd made his apologies and left Addie Buss in charge of the smoke slinging. She did a fine job, dropping an
Ezekiel Flying Pinwheel
, a
Jonah Sinker
, and something she called
Eutychus' Death Plunge
into the mix.
Vicar McTavish had stopped on the top step, turned to face the congregation, and waited for the hymn to finish before offering the opening collect. I played the final chords and the priest waited for the majestic sound to stop reverberating through the rafters. It was a dramatic pause and a dramatic pause was called for. The priest raised his mighty arms and took a deep breath. None of us, certainly not McTavish, expected the Congregational Enlivener to jump up from the front pew, spin around and yell, "Y'all sit down! I'm Nick Duckling and we're here to
CE-LE-BRATE!
"
Nick Duckling was dressed in an orange shirt, blue-plaid pants, and bright yellow suspenders.
The vicar lowered his arms. The congregation sat down nervously.
"So, before we go any further,
let's hear it for Jesus!
"
This was the cue for all the kids to start beating their Spirit Sticks on the back of the pew in front of them. It caused quite a racket. Most of the kids figured out very quickly that smacking the person in front of them on the head made just as much noise and was a heck of a lot more fun. The basses had discovered this as well and were taking advantage of the cranial tunefulness of the tenor section.
Gimme a "J!" yelled Nick Duckling.
Kimberly Walnut and Heather Frampton, one of the St. B ex-cheerleader soccer moms that Kimberly had inveigled, jumped to their feet and yelled "J!"
"Gimme an E!"
"E!" screamed Kimberly.
"Quit smackin' me," yelped Marjorie.
The rest of the congregation sat in stunned shock.
"I was a cheerleader once," said Elaine. "He's trying to get us to spell something. I wonder what it is?"
"Gimme an S!" Nick yelled.
"SSSSS!" yelled the women, jumping up and down and looking around to see whom they were enlivening. The Boomwhackers were still whacking away, but everyone else sat frozen, not daring to move. The vicar was motionless and seemed, if anything, to be getting larger as his anger increased.
"Gimme a U!" Nick Duckling pointed the index fingers of both hands at the congregation, thus imparting his double meaning. The "U" in Jesus, referred to "you." Or rather, "us." How could we have been so blind?
"Yoooouuu!" mooed the cheering squad.
"S!" shouted Nick. "What's that spell?"
"JESUS!" shouted the two ladies.
"What's that spell?" shouted Nick again, this time louder.
"
JESUS!
" they shouted back.
Nick Duckling did a back flip in front of the chancel steps. "Let's give him a hand!" he hollered, skipping down the aisle, clapping above his head.
Kimberly Walnut and Heather jumped up and down, applauding and cheering. The kids whacked their Spirit Sticks on whatever and whomever was close. The rest of the congregation, unsure of what to do, applauded lightly for a few seconds, then quit. Even the basses seemed somewhat embarrassed.
Nick disappeared out the back, no doubt preparing for his next explosion of enlivening. The two cheerleaders looked around and seeing no one joining them in their little hops and yips of ecstasy, sat down.
All eyes went to Fearghus McTavish. His eyes were icy blue fire and he seemed to be smoldering from within. He raised his hands again, then, his voice deep and menacing, spoke the collect: "All consuming and unpitying God, who dost enkindle thy Holy name in the hearts of the Saints; Grant to us, thy lamentable servants, the same faith and power; so, as we rejoice in their triumphs, we may profit by their examples and not wallow in the filth from which we came; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."
"At least he's sticking with the '28 prayer book," I said. "Although admittedly somewhat altered."
"Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith," the priest growled. "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like unto it; Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets."
The '28 prayer book called for a
Kyrie
and we obliged. We were singing the last "Lord, have mercy," when Nick Duckling bounded in from the side door beside the Mary altar.
"It's time for the Children's Moment!" he cheered. "C'mon down, kids!"
The priest began to visibly sizzle. It was like one of those cartoons where smoke starts to come out of someone's ears. Like that, but scarier.
***
The small children went into the aisle, pushed out by their mothers as usual, then began the long trek down to the steps. When they were about halfway to their destination, Nick Duckling shouted out,"Not just the little ones!
All
you kids come on down! Kids of all ages!" He looked up at me, pointed a finger and called, "Mr. Music Man! Play us a little traveling music!"
I might have played
Jesus Loves Me
or something had I gotten a little advance notice, but for some reason, the only song I could think of right then was
Seasons In The Sun
. I shrugged and played a verse.
Muffy, our aspiring Karaoke star, started singing along when I got to the chorus:
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun;
But the wine and the song, like the seasons, have all gone.
Moosey's Eleven
, as they'd become known in the Sunday School, having graduated from being called the
Fearsome Foursome,
the
Children of the Corn
, and the
Gang of Eight
, were ready and waiting for the invitation. They'd been good so far, their little heads bowed, but their little fingers silently working. Now they stood and entered the aisle behind the smaller kids, their heads still down, following them to the chancel steps.
"Now, children," said Nick loudly. "How much do we love God? Do we love him
this
much?" Nick had his hands a couple feet apart.
"Yes!" yelled the little kids. The older kids kept their heads down.
"Do we love him THIS much?" The space between Nick Duckling's hands widened.
"Yea!" yelled the little kids. The older kids didn't respond.
"Do we love him THIS MUCH?" Nick stretched his arms as far as he could and one of the Douglas boys reared back and slugged him in the crotch with his fist. He bent over in surprise and pain and came face to face with eleven terrifying faces. Moosey and his friends had spent the first part of the service applying Brother Hog's
Plague Faire
favors using super-glue and the compact mirrors that had been thoughtfully provided by the Girls' Sunday School class when they had their lesson on self esteem. Now they looked up at him and smiled sweetly. The sweetness of their smiles, however, was tempered by inflamed boils with flies dipping in around the edges, open sores and wounds, warts, lesions, and a few exuding maggots. Bernadette had brought her bulging rubber eyeball back out for an encore. It went fetchingly with her frilled pink dress.
Nick Duckling took one look and screamed. Then, either from fright, the Douglas boy's right cross, or maybe a combination of both, he sat down on the steps, fell over, and curled into a fetal position. The acolytes helped him to his feet and out of the church through one of the doors to the sacristy.
The kids, all of them, turned and walked back down the aisle without a word. I was ready this time, and played:
Jesus loves the little children,
All the children of the world...
Chapter 23
"Hear the Word of the Lord!" thundered Vicar Fearghus McTavish. "For a fire is kindled in mine anger, and shall burn unto the lowest hell, and shall consume the earth with her increase, and set on fire the foundations of the mountains. They shall be burnt with hunger, and devoured with burning heat, and with bitter destruction."
"I guess that Nick Duckling made him plenty mad," whispered Meg.
"I will also send the teeth of beasts upon them, with the poison of serpents of the dust," he growled. "Now this will be the plague with which the Lord will strike all the peoples who have gone to war against Jerusalem; their flesh will rot while they stand on their feet, and their eyes will rot in their sockets, and their tongues will rot in their mouth."
"Zombies!" said Marjorie happily. "This is gonna be the best All Saints' sermon ever!"
***
The choir sang their offertory anthem very well, and by the time we were going down to the altar for communion, most of the folks had calmed down and almost seemed to have forgotten about Nick Duckling, our Congregational Enlivener. I half-expected him to come popping into the service at some point, but it wasn't to be. Perhaps Kimberly Walnut was consoling him in her office.
We went downstairs for communion, partook of the bread and wine, and listened to the words of grace from Vicar McTavish:
"Take, eat, abase your carnal nature, and hang your head in mortification."
and
"The bread of solace, the cup of consolation."
and
"Do not be deceived by false gifts. Their drink is the poison of dragons, and the cruel venom of asps."
"We rarely get communion sentences from the Book of Deuteronomy," I whispered, as Meg and I walked down the side aisle toward the stairway leading back to the choir loft.
"Come to the table as a wretched worm and contemplate God's grace."
Elaine and Bev had repaired to the parish hall as soon as the offertory was finished to help set up for coffee hour, so I was short two sopranos for the communion anthem. I was contemplating my options, Muffy and Meg being the only two left in the section, when I saw Nancy waiting for me in the narthex at the foot of the stairs. She was in her uniform, of course, and had a steely look on her face. She motioned me out the front doors and onto the steps.