I did not know the song “Drift Away” before the animal known as “show choir” was foisted on me in 2004 at a two-year college. I don’t remember whether it was the closer or opener, but it became, as far as I remember, the strongest tune that group performed. It’s catchy, and this song is, in a limited sense, a lasting “bit” from life.
I wasn’t sure why a show choir existed at a college; such groups are more about competition and show than music. (In interviewing prospective students during my time at Houghton College, from time to time, a student from more southerly climes would register disappointment that we didn’t have marching band competitions in college.) In fact, my predecessor with this show choir school had already moved away from having this “choir” singing any harmony at all, and she was reportedly going to have them merely lip-sync and dance the next year. Unbelievable, I know. I digress.
Anyway, anytime I hear the tune “Drift Away” in Walmart (it would not likely be on my radio), I am transported to that time in Missouri, now two decades ago, and a few “bits and pieces” come to mind:
In the show choir itself, I recall young lady named Jessica, who seemed almost obsessed with looking at herself in the mirror. Her goal was to be a performer in Branson. I had never seen a choir room with mirrors like that, and I’ve been averse to them ever since.
James, a young man with energy and a terrific attitude, married Audrey, and they seem to have a fine family now.
Sandy, the recently retired high school choral director who became the adjunct show choir lead, and I had a conversation on the phone in which I registered some concerns about dancing. She assured me she was “a Christian person” and would uphold family-friendly standards. I noted she had not said “a Christian.” Ever since, I have thought the distinction was important.
P.C. Thomas, a Christian colleague, and I were sponsors of a weekly Bible study. One of my music students attended. His name was Jeff, and he was a sincere, hard-working guy. He is a family man and a deacon in his church. His girlfriend at the time did not maintain her life of Christian morality. An older student in this Bible study group reacted quite negatively to my questioning his sense of what “anointing” meant then and how it has been co-opted today. I can see the ire today. He seemed to be upset to the point that he thought I was blaspheming God. P.C. and his wife Thankam has us into their home for a delicious Indian meal, and they took us to their church once — a conservative, nondenominational “Bible chapel.” I recalled the thoughtful hymns and atmosphere there and visited the same place a couple of years ago.
All these are bits and pieces of life: students in a Bible study group, faculty colleagues with whom I can share faith, and a few students who have stayed with faith or grown in it.
There are some bits and pieces from which I would prefer my soul to be freed. Some positive bits are seemingly minor, yet they play a role in our spiritual consciousness.
Earnestly Speaking 