Hello choir members!
I have FINALLY chosen a piece for the ward choir to share on March 31st (Easter). I've been looking for a suitable arrangement of "He Is Risen" that will be appropriate for our choir size and be workable for an accompanist. Here it is for download (this piece may be copied for non-commercial use):
https://www.dropbox.com/s/fa48gw35fsibvx1/He%20Is%20Risen.pdf
Please let me know if you have any questions!
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Sunday, November 4, 2012
2012 Christmas Program
Chaparral Ward 2012 Christmas Presentation
The words below are taken from a number of talks given by President Monson over the past 30-40 years. I'll find a few readers to take turns reading the message. If you know anyone that would like to participate with choir but don't have the time, voice, and/or bowel control to attend practice, please let me know and I'll have them assist with reading.
Prelude: Ave Maria (Heavenly Father) (Cello or violin, piano)
Or maybe voice and piano with alternate MoTab words if we can't find instrumentalists
(Poorly mixed MIDI recording of violin and piano)
Or maybe voice and piano with alternate MoTab words if we can't find instrumentalists
(Poorly mixed MIDI recording of violin and piano)
In the New Testament, John describes a
journey by those who would worship: “And there were certain...among them that
came up to worship at the feast: the same came therefore to Philip... and desired
him, saying, Sir, we would see Jesus.”
The search for Jesus. No search is so
universal. No undertaking so richly rewarding. No effort so ennobling. No
purpose so divine. For generations, enlightened mankind in the Old and New worlds
anxiously sought the fulfillment of prophecies uttered by righteous men
inspired of Almighty God. Then came that night of nights when the angel of the
Lord came upon shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock,
and the pronouncement, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a
Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”
Thus, personally invited to undertake a
search for the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger, did
these shepherds concern themselves with the security of their possessions? Did
they procrastinate their search for Jesus? The record affirms that the
shepherds said to one another, “Let us now go even unto Bethlehem... And they
came with haste.”
Born in a stable, cradled in a manger,
he came forth from heaven to live on earth as mortal man and to establish the
kingdom of God. During his earthly ministry, he taught men the higher law. His
glorious gospel reshaped the thinking of the world. He blessed the sick; he
caused the lame to walk, the blind to see, the deaf to hear. He even raised the
dead to life. With the birth of the babe of Bethlehem, there emerged a great
endowment -- a power stronger than weapons, a wealth more lasting than the
coins of Caesar. This child was to be the King of kings and Lord of lords, the
promised Messiah, even Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
Down through the generations of time,
the message from Jesus has been the same. To Peter by the shores of beautiful
Galilee, he said, “Follow me.” To Philip of old came the call, “Follow me.” To
the Levite who sat at receipt of customs came the instructions, “Follow me.”
And to you and to me, if we but listen, shall come that same beckoning
invitation, “Follow me.” But how do we follow him if first we don’t find him?
And how shall we find him if first we don’t seek him? Where and how should we
begin this search for Jesus? The formula for finding Jesus has always been and
ever will be the same--the earnest and sincere prayer of a humble and pure
heart. The prophet Jeremiah counseled, “Ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye
shall search for me with all your hearts.”
Before we can successfully undertake a
personal search for Jesus, we must first prepare time for him in our lives and
room for him in our hearts. In these busy days there are many who have time for
golf, time for shopping, time for work, time for play -- but no time for
Christ. Lovely homes dot the land and provide rooms for eating, rooms for
sleeping, playrooms, sewing rooms, television rooms, but no room for Christ. Do
we get a pang of conscience as we recall his own words, “The foxes have holes,
and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his
head.” Or... when we remember, “And she brought forth her firstborn son, and
wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was
no room for them in the inn.” No room. No room. No room. Ever has it been.
As we undertake our personal search for
Jesus...it is fundamental that we have a clear concept of him whom we seek. The
shepherds of old sought Jesus the child. But we seek Jesus the Christ, ... our Redeemer,
the Author of our salvation; he who was in the beginning with the Father; he
who took upon himself the sins of the world and so willingly died the we might
forever live. This is the Jesus whom we seek. And when we find him, will be
prepared as were the wise men of old to provide gifts from our many treasures?
They presented gold, frankincense, and myrrh. These are not the gifts Jesus
asks of us. From the treasure of our hearts Jesus asks that we give of
ourselves: “Behold, the Lord requireth the heart and a willing mind.”
In this marvelous dispensation...our
opportunities to give of ourselves are indeed limitless... There are hearts to
gladden. There are kind words to say. There are gifts to be given. There are
deeds to be done. There are souls to be saved. [Let us] not find ourselves in
the unenviable position of Jacob Marley’s ghost, who spoke to Ebenezer Scrooge
in Dickens’ immortal A Christmas Carol. Marley spoke sadly of opportunities
lost, saying, “Why did I walk through crowds of fellow beings with my eyes turned
down, and never raise them to that blessed star which led the Wise Men to a
poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted
me?”
As we lift our eyes heavenward, we too,
will see a bright, particular star which will guide us to our opportunity. Such
was the experience of a Sunday School class some years ago when a wise teacher
put aside the manual one Sunday morning. With her class members listening in,
she telephoned [President Thomas S. Monson, who was then] serving as the bishop
of a large ward in the central part of Salt Lake City. [President Monson tells
us of this experience:]
The teacher asked, “Are there any poor
in your ward--people who need a sub for Santa?” She then described her own
neighborhood as one of affluence and mentioned that she wanted her class to remember
this particular Christmas. I ...mentioned a family that would welcome [such
help]--one that would also greatly benefit her class members.
The Mueller family had recently emigrated
from war-torn Germany. The children were learning to speak our language, and
were shy and reluctant to mingle with others. Their personal possessions were few;
they had lost so much during the war. I suggested an appropriate evening when
her class could accompany her to our ward meetinghouse and together we would
walk to their home. Again the teacher stated that she wanted her class to
remember the true meaning of Christmas. I responded, “Could I suggest, then,
that each child bring a gift that has a special meaning to the individual; a
gift the person treasures and would rather keep for himself.”
Just four days before Christmas, several
adults brought this Sunday School class to our ward building in large,
expensive cars. Such an array of wealth had never before graced the parking
area. We then walked to the Mueller home, singing carols along the way. The
laughter of the children and the hurried pace of their steps reflected the
anticipation of Christmas. It was at the Mueller home, however, that the frills
of Christmas became the spirit of Christmas.
I watched as one girl looked into the
eyes of one of the Mueller children, a girl about her age, then tenderly handed
her a beautiful doll she had received on her own birthday, a gift she herself
loved. She anxiously told her newly found friend how to dress the doll and hold
it ever so tenderly in cradled arms. I observed a normally rowdy boy take from
his left hand his genuine leather baseball glove, and place it on the left hand
of a German-speaking boy who had never seen, far less worn, a baseball glove.
He then explained how to catch the baseball in the special pocket of the glove,
which he had hand prepared hour after hour with a particular oil. Such was the
experience of each child with each gift.
As we walked back to the meetinghouse,
not a word was spoken. One could hear the crunch of the newly fallen snow as
young feet made the two-block journey. We entered the building, there to have donuts
and apple cider. In the blessing on the food, a beautiful girl, her voice
choked with emotion, described the feelings of all of us as she prayed,
“Heavenly Father, we thank thee for the best Christmas we have ever had.” That
night, as children who had found the real spirit of Christmas left the parking
lot, and disappeared into the darkness, I recalled the meaningful words from
the hymn “O Little Town of Bethlehem”:
How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.
No ear may hear his coming;
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him, still
The dear Christ enters in.
And so he had.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
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