The title comes from a recent BSF lecture, an idea that is so obvious that it gets overlooked, especially by me. Our teaching leader was talking about the Billy Graham crusades that took place in past years, when whole stadiums would be filled to hear the dynamic preacher. But, as she said, the results came about not just because of Mr. Graham’s own spiritual standing, Scriptural knowledge and personal magnetism but because of the advance teams’ work. They would go to a city where a crusade was to take place and meet with churches, scope out the venue, recruit volunteers to help with everything from counseling to cleanup—on and on. Without all of that unseen work the crusades just wouldn’t have happened, or if they had they’d have been much less successful. Whether or not you agree with how the message of the Gospel was presented in those crusades, and many don’t, the fact is that they were masterpieces of organization, and of organization that was done ahead of time.
And of course, since so many ideas remind me of something from Anne Ortlund, I have to include, once again, some thoughts from her wonderful book Disciplines of the Beautiful Woman. She’s talking about being on a ship and not being able to see the keel, the part of the ship that’s below the water line. Without that element the ship would be unsteady and unsteerable, but it’s hidden. The crew knows it’s there, but the passengers don’t think about it. They just assume that someone’s steering the ship, and, more to our point, that it’s possible to steer the ship. But it’s all in the preparation: the keel is the first part of a ship to be built. If it’s somehow defective, then it won’t matter how beautiful the rest of the structure is. Ortlund makes this observation as she looks out over the yacht basin in Honolulu harbor:
I’m looking at sleek white cabins and fun-colored sails. But when one of those boats puts out to sea, everybody aboard had better be thankful for what I don’t see, as well—the keel. Without a good-sized keel the boat would quickly capsize and everybody would be gulping sea water. The importance of the invisible! This is true of any life as well. If all of our life is visible to others, from the time we get up in the morning until we fall in bed at night, we’ll be as unsteady as a ship with no keel. Indeed, the more of us that is invisible, hidden from the world in quiet, in study, in planning and in prayer, the more effective our visible life will be. (accessed via Amazon; link is above.)
Tonight we’ll be having yet more advance prep work for our performance of The Magic Flute this weekend. (I don’t think I’ve given any links for this! If you have some time this weekend, either on Saturday night or Sunday afternoon, I’d so encourage you to come if you live in the Denver area. Follow this link to get your tickets, and be sure to enter the code CCCTIX in the “discount code” box. You won’t actually get a discount, but the Cherry Creek Chorale will get $10.) It’s going to be just great. But boy, is there a lot of prep work involved! I got to see the principle performers on Sunday, and they pretty much embodied that principle. There has obviously been a ton of work going on. Most of them are music students (this is pretty much an all-volunteer production, which doesn’t mean that it’s not professional, just that everyone is doing it out of love for the music), so I imagine long sessions with their teachers. Not only do they know the words and the music, but they also have the staging down. Poor Pamina has to sing while kneeling on the floor, although at least she doesn’t have to sing while dying, which some opera performers have to do. I’ve never understood how they can produce the sound they do while in such un-singer-like positions, but they can and they do.
And the singers are just the tip of the iceberg, as it were. Props, costumes, scenery (minimal as it is), lighting—all have to be prepped. The orchestra has been practicing, probably for weeks. We have our first get-together with them tonight, doing something called a “sitzprobe” in which we do, indeed, sit and go through the music. Thursday night is the full dress rehearsal. Whatever doesn’t get ironed out then will just have to be wrinkled! Prep, prep, prep, rehearse, rehearse, rehearse. If it’s done correctly and you’re really ready, then for the performance you can just let yourself go and enter into the spirit of the piece. I’ve seen this over and over with my participation in our Chorale concerts. If I’ve really done the prep work and really know the music, then the concert itself is a total blast. But if I’ve failed to prep I’m not confident. I feel unsteady.
I will leave you with the Latin word for “prepare”–”praeparo.” Why do I use that word? Because, many years ago, more than I like to count, I heard a great talk about being prepared from a man named Jerry Tetreau, who is now the chancellor of International Baptist College and Seminary and was, I believe, the president of that institution at the time I heard him. I can hear him now, pronouncing the Latin word and giving great emphasis to each syllable: “prae-PAR-o.” He gave an example of one of his teachers, a woman who taught Spanish classes. Isn’t it funny what the mind hangs onto? (My mind, anyway.) “This woman had twin babies, and she’d come to class with her hair hanging down in her face, looking totally exhausted, but let me tell you, folks, there had been some prae-PAR-o going on.” (I hope she’d gotten at least a little maternity leave before having to go back to the classroom!)
So there it is, as I often say. Maybe I’d better go forth and do some preparing myself. I tell myself frequently, “Debi, you’ll never be sorry that you did this ahead of time.”
What could you be doing now to prepare for your future?