Envy

Last Sunday Jim and I heard Terryl Givens speak at church in Cambridge. He’s a professor of English at the University of Richmond and a prolific writer. Listening to him speak, it's obvious he is also a prodigious reader. Jim took careful notes, which I transcribed two nights ago.

I left the talk feeling the joy of scholarship. I fantasized of reading every author and thinker that he mentioned, of studying New Testament Greek, of understanding philosophy and theology as well as he. It was pure fantasy, which I realized even as I aspired. And I didn’t descend into envy: I consciously chose to celebrate his accomplishments and appreciate the enrichment he gave me through his lifetime of study and thinking. He possesses an extraordinary intellect: I do not. I want very much to respect him for that and be grateful for his generosity in sharing his learning and insights.

Our congregational choir is rehearsing for our Easter program April 21. Tess, our director, is a consummate musician (she plays harp professionally) and has an ambitious program in mind, including a chorale from Bach’s St. Matthew’s Passion. Last week I practiced my part and even listened to the whole piece on YouTube. I am not at all familiar with it: my experience has been with orchestral and instrumental works more than choral.

Last Sunday’s rehearsal was painful. There were only about eight of us, including just two altos. Although I had mastered the first page, much of the rest was beyond my grasp and I muddled through. Later in the day, at home, I practiced my part some more. As I thought of the rehearsal, I realized that other singers are much more familiar with the work as a whole and with the chorale specifically. In my new-found mode, I found myself appreciating the musical studies they have made and recognizing that it blesses my world.

 And what is envy? Part of it is embarrassment and inadequacy. It’s a painful awareness of what I don’t have and haven’t accomplished. How much more generous, and pleasant, to be delighted with the gifts of others around me.

As I started this blog post, I realized I've written about this nearly a year ago. I'm swimming!