“Celebration Rock” Spin-off #1

I’ve already alluded to the first of two programs that “spun off” of “Celebration Rock,’ but I want to add some detail, just to see how much I can recall. [To be honest, I’m only writing all this for myself, but am delighted to share it with the friends who are keeping up!]

When “Celebration Rock” was firmly established on the AM radio side in Richmond, FM stereo was moving from standard “beautiful music” or “elevator music” formats into rock, and audiences were growing younger. WRVA-FM became WRVQ (or Q94) and the station quickly established itself as a major player in the Richmond market. Bill Garcia was the first program director, and the talented air staff and state-of-the-art studios pushed Q94 to the top of the ratings.

I was already doing an early Sunday morning “wake-up” show on WRVA just across the hall from the Q94 studios, so I was getting to know some of the FM staff. Though my memory is foggy on this, I may have asked Bill Garcia if he wanted to run “Celebration Rock” on Q94, but two things stood in the way. First, unless I taped the program at Q94, the technical quality wouldn’t have been up to the new station’s standards. Second, I doubt Garcia wanted any second hand merchandise. I think I remember his saying to me, why not do a new show just for us? Garcia gave me a 7:30 a.m. slot, just before the station went into its regular format at 8.

So, “A Sunday Celebration” was born, a half-hour show with music drawn very strictly from the Q94 play list. No album cuts, no interviews, just hit after hit, with my “commentary” sandwiched between songs. And, because all the Q94 toys were new, I wasn’t allowed to “run my own board” (that is, engineer the show). Dave Collins, the station’s production director, was assigned the board duties while I was to stand at a Neumann microphone and read the copy I had written. My apologies to Dave if he should somehow find his way to this blog, but Dave wasn’t exactly thrilled to have this assignment week after week. Very business-like, highly efficient, usually not overly friendly or warm, sometimes seemingly impatient…his demeanor signaled a lack of enthusiasm for this little project. I remember thinking that he wasn’t what we call “a people person.” But I’ll say this for him: he made the show sound really good. Tight. Fast-paced.

The major limitation for me was working from the station’s short play list. Week by week, the list would add two to three new songs and drop the same number off. That meant working with the same songs each week, except for the “gold” music or previous hits I was able to use, either from the Q94 library or, on a few occasions, from my own collection. (Q94 rarely played an actual “record;” its whole library was on carts, or tape cartridges, that were automatically cued and easily labeled with title, artist, length, and the all-important “talk over” time. Any records, 45’s or L.P.’s that I brought in had to be pristine…no surface noise or scratches allowed.)

Generally I would look over the Q94 playlist, choose a song with some theme I could work with, and develop the show around that one song, using other tracks to build on the theme. One early “Sunday Celebration” used the Doobie Brothers’ song “Listen to the Music” as a focus, with other songs selected to expand on the theme of, well, listening to the music.  “Rock On” by David Essex, “I’ll Have to Say I Love You in a Song” by Jim Croce, “Love Song” by Anne Murray, and “Rock and Roll Heaven” by the Righteous Brothers would be examples of where I might have gone with that theme in 1974. The theological thread would have linked the prayers and music of the ancient psalms to our continuing need to express our deepest thoughts through music, not mere words. 

“The Long and Winding Road” by the Beatles would have led to songs about traveling, the road of life, journeys, the “narrow way” that Jesus referred to. Chicago’s “(I’ve Been) Searching So Long” would have been a good fit for that show. Jim Croce’s “Time in a Bottle” easily led to a half-hour’s worth of songs about time, how much God gives us and how we learn its good stewardship. And so it went, for two or three years I guess, until Q94 eventually added the full “Celebration Rock” show to its Sunday morning schedule.

One other thing I recall about that era (the early to mid-70’s) was the rare “Celebrating Our New Life Together” bumper sticker. Printed in day-glow orange (like a sunrise, you see), the art work was a butterfly formed from the words “new life,” along with the names of the two rock shows, stations, and times. I distributed a few of them, but rarely saw them on any cars. The downside: due to budget limitations, they were made of paper, not plastic, and they disintegrated quickly, leaving a sticky scum on the car bumper, a mark that even a car wash couldn’t get off! Seemed like a good idea at the time…

A footnote: When “Celebration Rock” headed into syndication, I asked Bill Garcia to write me a letter of recommendation that I could include with my mailing to stations I was inviting to air the show. He said he’d be happy to; if I’d write it, he’d sign it. That was awkward. But I did write a very flattering letter about myself, and he did sign it. Then he immediately moved to WRBQ in Tampa. And added “Celebration Rock” there. He must have read his letter.

Billy Joel

There were many artists whose music was featured on more than one “Celebration Rock” program. Whenever new albums by the Moody Blues, Carole King, Dan Fogelberg, James Taylor, or the Alan Parsons Project came out, I knew there was potential for mining some creative content from their songs. Billy Joel was another singer/songwriter I could count on for stories and solid lyrics. I just listened to a “retrospective” of his music on a CR show that was produced in its post-syndication era. (I could tell that from my spoken reference to “this Sunday morning..,” something I couldn’t have said in syndication days when the show was broadcast by some stations at night. Thus, this particular program was probably heard only on WRVQ or WMXB in Richmond.)

The term “retrospective” on “Celebration Rock” referred to programs which reached back into the record library, rather than shows which featured a single recently-released album. For that Billy Joel special, I drew on music from the following: “Piano Man,” “Turnstiles,” “The Stranger,” “52nd Street,” “Glass Houses,” “An Innocent Man,” and “The Bridge.”

Writing and producing that program was what we used to call “a piece of cake.” So many great songs to choose from, so many thoughtful, introspective lyrics. The process that led to that particular program indicates how other CR shows were formatted.

First, I pulled the albums from the shelves where records were filed alphabetically by artist. (That step follows the initial choice, of course, of the program topic or featured musician[s].) I look through the song titles and note the ones most likely to provide “food for thought.” Obviously, some titles are unfamiliar, and I need to either look at full lyrics provided on the record jacket or inner sleeve, or I need to play the cut and listen to lyrics, jotting down key lines. The familiar tracks owe their familiarity to previous use on earlier “Celebration Rock” programs, or they are simply the classics like “Piano Man” that almost every listener can sing along with in the car or at a concert.

I make a list of the songs I want to use. First I choose the tracks that I will write copy for. Which ones prompt some reflection? Which lead to some creative writing on my part? Which songs stand on their own? (Well, they all do. If you have to explain a joke or exegete a poem…) What I mean by that is, which songs might be played as connectors between other songs or between a song and my reflection on that track? My intention was never to comment on every song I played on each “Celebration Rock” program. I was well aware that listeners were far more interested in the music than in my comments. Finally, I would choose some songs that were simply entertaining, or that were huge hits, full of meaning or not. Gotta keep the customers satisfied…

With Billy Joel’s huge catalog, I had no trouble finding a good mix. Opening the show with “Piano Man” is a no-brainer. It’s a lasting hit, Joel’s signature song, and an opener that pulls the audience right into the program. It also has plenty of “talk-over” time, so that during the song’s intro, I can welcome the listener, announce the featured artist, and lead into the first song. “This is Jeff Kellam with ‘Celebration Rock.’ This week… Billy Joel’s ‘Piano Man,’ leading us into some songs for lovers and losers, and saints and sinners…gather ’round the piano and listen for your song…on ‘Celebration Rock’ for a Sunday.”

As the first song fades at the 5:30 mark, I say, “This man at the piano can help us forget, or help us remember; he can help us ‘feel all right,’ or he can help us see ourselves as we really are, and sometimes, that hurts. Here’s one of my favorite Billy Joel songs, from the ‘Turnstiles’ album. It’s called ‘James.’ You may hear your story told in this song…” Then comes a song not as well known as most of the Joel hit list: “James,” with the pivotal question; “Do you like your life?”

James… you’ve been well behaved,
You’ve been working so hard
But will you always stay-
Someone else’s dream of who you are.
Do what’s good for you, or you’re not good for anybody…James.

Next on the playlist was the epic “Scenes from An Italian Restaurant.” As the song ended, we were more than a quarter of the way through the program. My script read:

Meeting an old friend or an old flame at a favorite hangout rekindles memories of yesterday’s friends and yesterday’s music, yesterday’s dreams. Brenda and Eddie’s high school romance, their marriage and divorce…are yesterday’s news, but there’s value in considering what is past, especially if it keeps us from repeating the mistakes we’ve made. Remember, yes! Repent? Yes. Renew, of course, but don’t replay it over and over. Much of the music on this ‘Celebration Rock’ program will return us to places we have visited and lived before, and many of the words look back to past experience, and personal history.”

“We walked on the beach beside that old hotel…” Joel sings next. “They’re tearing it down now, but it’s just as well…”

This is the time to remember
Cause it will not last forever
These are the days
To hold on to
But we won’t
Although we’ll want to…

I then shared a meditation about the things that last forever, like the eternal ocean, and the things that pass away, like new hotels that grow old and fall to wrecking balls…and then I asked the listener, “Do you ever wonder what, besides the sea, lasts forever, unchanged by time? If you made a list, it might be short, but it might be worth holding onto, or striving for, or living for, even when things go terribly…bad.”

With that last syllable, Joel’s song “You’re Only Human” starts cold, and sings,

We’re only human
We’re supposed to make mistakes
But I survived all those long lonely days
When it seemed I did not have a friend
Cause all I needed was a little faith
So I could catch my breath and face the world again

At this point, you can see how the program progresses. After telling the story of how a young woman once told me of her striving for her second wind (referenced from the song lyrics), I spoke of God’s breathing into us the gift of hope and our finding the ability to live that hope one day at a time, celebrating second chances and third ones, gifts of grace, to be sure.

By this time, I admitted on air that we were halfway through the program, but I was only on page three of my script, “so we’ll have to hurry.” (The reference to “script” was unusual; normally, the impression one would want to leave is that I’m making all this up as I go along– but I figured by this time in the “Celebration Rock” history I either had earned some credibility or it didn’t matter.)

One more Billy Joel tune I want to mention is at the top of my favorites list, that is, not just a top Billy Joel song, but among all the tracks I had played on CR. It’s a song called “I’ve Loved These Days.” It’s about the choices we make, the mistakes, the resolutions and good intentions to change, but also the honest admission that we really did enjoy the days we know we must leave behind. The music is passionate, the words are confessional. The song is mine. And yours, I suspect.

As I look back on my ministry through “Celebration Rock,” I can honestly admit, “I’ve loved those days.”

Low Key, High Tech, High Touch

From the very beginning, “Celebration Rock” was an unashamedly Christian radio program. At the same time, it was “low key” in its approach to what we call evangelism. Some might say that that’s typical of mainline Presbyterians. So be it. That’s what I was.

I came out of a traditional Presbyterian church which, when I was a child, was under the leadership of a pastor strong in intellect and soft-spoken in the pulpit. No firebrand, he. The worship service was classic Reformed worship, staid but not lifeless, and buttressed by solid hymns sung from the denomination’s hymnal. The only “gospel songs” I was exposed to, the only “choruses” I ever had to sing came out of what was called in the 50’s when I was growing up, “released-time education.” Mid-week, children who wanted to leave school a little early for religious classes and some devotional time would go to a local church for “religious instruction.” In my neighborhood, it was a small Baptist church that hosted the “released-time” kids. Frankly, even as a child I couldn’t tolerate the music I heard there. “V is for Victory,” the pastor sang as he waved us on, “Victory for Christ the Lo-or-ord!”

I was glad when they said unto me, let us go to the (Presbyterian) house of the Lord, and sing “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” and “The Church’s One Foundation.” And I was glad when my pastor said to me, “Go ye therefore into all the world to preach the gospel, but first go ye to a Presbyterian college,” and I did. And there, too, education and worship and retreats were all classic, heady, and Reformed. It was fairly conservative. At that time, there was a dress code for women, separate living and dining areas for men and women, and the religion department in which I studied was called the Bible Department. Yet, if “V” was for victory, it was most commonly related to the football team’s win streak.

The music in the college chapels was ageless, sung by huge choirs, and accompanied by magnificent pipe organs. I sang in the biggest choir (where my voice could easily hide), and I majored in both religion and an organist named Joan. No coincidence that she too came out of a big old stone Gothic-looking Presbyterian Church with solid credentials!

Then came seminary, the most “liberal” of the four Southern Presbyterian graduate schools. It was there that I learned the classic biblical languages (Greek and Hebrew), learned to write and preach classic sermons, and played classical music on the campus FM station. Classic, Classic, classic. And yet…I also opened up slowly to the Spirit who said, “Behold, I am doing a new thing.” After all, this was the 1960’s! Guitars showed up in the chapel, and liturgists danced, and I was invited to play rock music for a teen-aged audience on WBBL/WLEE.

What may have contributed to “Celebration Rock” being quite different from other radio ministries was my long tradition in the church. I was not a born again evangelical. I had no tale of woe from which I was rescued. I had never abused alcohol or any other drug. I hadn’t even smoked a cigarette. I wasn’t perfect, of course, and I had two loving parents to remind me of that now and then. And there’s the main thing: I was loved by family and church; and I knew it. From fifth grade Sunday School on, I was a church kid, and my parents had been part of that same church since they had first dated. In my experience, though, almost to a person, all the radio voices who spoke for Jesus were independent fundamentalists, hoarse with the baggage of terrible sins, and they were zealous to be sure their listeners experienced the same turn around in their lives, the same path to salvation. “Ye must be born again! Oh, and send me money.”

One would think that after all these years I would be less cynical about the crowd I had joined as a “radio evangelist.” I confess that cynicism is not very becoming, or very Christian for that matter. It’s not my only short-coming. But it is rooted in a college summer school course for which I taped a weekend’s worth of religious radio, and heard the gospel (which had given me life, nurtured me, and called me) pushed like a drug by shysters, charlatans, and shady shepherds. And joining the union later, around the second decade of my radio show, were the tele-evangelists who demanded indulgences and “seed gifts”, and any old gold jewelry you happened to have lying around the house, all in order to bribe God for blessings and prosperity.

On the wall over my desk I have a copy of a block print by Robert Hodgell. The work is entitled “The Pitchman.”  It depicts a preacher on TV, his grinning mouth chattering, his hand raised in a Christ-like benediction. Behind him on the TV screen is the classic portrait of Jesus, much as he was painted by Solomon. On top of the TV set is a collection of radio and TV antennae and loud-speakers, and a giant sign (as if on a lighted billboard) that reads “Jesus Sells.” The knobs of the front of the television set are a nickel, dime, and quarter.  Cynical, yes, and created at the same time as the PTL Club and the 700 Club.

I was not in the club. I was, and remain, a child of the church, but first and foremost a child of the covenant, a child baptized in Christ, raised in the church, ordained to a servant ministry, and called to new life, life always new. And on the air, using the public airwaves in what was called public service time, I served the young public that loved its music, searched for meaning and purpose, yearned for hope, and listened for good news. I didn’t charge them a dime for what was a priceless gift of grace. Because the stodgy old church in which and for which I labored paid the earthbound bills on behalf of all who sought and found and were found.

The love of Christ is a gift, pure and far from simple. And our radio program was a high tech way to touch people with that Grace. What a trip to be a part of it!

Sizing Up the “Competition”

Guess what! “Celebration Rock” wasn’t that unique.

There were several other programs on the airwaves during the early 70’s and through the 1980’s that had a mission similar to that of CR. Whether there are any left, I don’t know. Here are some of the Christian-produced rock programs that competed for a radio station’s public service time:

“Silhouette” was among the first, and as noted early in this on-line memoir, it was the show that inspired the experiment called “Showcase” on Richmond’s WBBL. (And for those just joining us, “Showcase” took a new name after 200 shows: “Celebration Rock.”) “Silhouette” was produced by the American Lutheran Church (LCA) and it was written by and hosted by John Rydgren, a man with a set of “pipes” that begged for radio time. John was a Lutheran pastor who produced “Silhouette” in a church basement in Minneapolis, beginning around 1967. Within a couple of years, he had moved to ABC in New York where he hosted the ABC network’s album-oriented “LOVE” format” as “Brother John” (while still voicing the Lutheran production, I assume). John also produced, among other things,  a series of minute-long spots for Thanksgiving which the LCA made available to stations nationally. I used both the “Silhouette” segments and the Thanksgiving spots liberally on my own show, with LCA permission, of course. John’s career included many other major market gigs, but a severe stroke cut short his career. I read that it took him four years to recover enough to go back on air, but he died in his late 50’s. He was a remarkable and creative pioneer in the field of “message” music and Christian contemporary radio.

Another syndicated program that sprung up soon after the national “Silhouette” and the local “Showcase/Celebration Rock” format was “Powerline,” a production of the Southern Baptist Convention. Like “Silhouette,” “Powerline,” being denominationally-produced, was syndicated to hundreds of stations, and probably around the world via the Armed Forces Radio Network.  The other thing the two programs had in common was their half-hour length. Unlike John Rydgren, the long-time “Powerline” host Jon Rivers was not an ordained minister. In fact, he claims to not even have been a Christian for the first two years he hosted the SBC program, beginning in 1974. But after reading the scripts on air for two years, he was born again, and continued on for some time after that. (Again, in contrast to Rydgren, Rivers didn’t write or produce his program; he auditioned to be a script-reading voice for the show, later claiming that during those first two years he had been a good “actor.”)

As I remember from the “Powerline” shows that I heard in Richmond, the series featured very tame contemporary “Pop 40” music, and the scripts were not surprisingly evangelical, coming as they were from a conservative denomination. Southern Baptists had a huge commitment and lots of money to pour into radio and TV back in the 70’s and 80’s, and they had many weekly programs and specials, but none more controversial among the SBC “messengers” (or annual conferees) than “Powerline.” There were many calls for the program to drop the secular rock format for the usual reasons: fundamentalists simply considered the music fundamentally sinful. How long the show ran, I’m not sure. It may still be out there.

Another “secular” rock show popular with broadcasters in that era was the “Scott Ross Show.” His show began in the early 1970’s, and was a longer format weekly program (three hours?), on 200 or so stations. Ross had music business connections with late 60’s rockers like Dylan and Clapton, left drugs behind when he converted to Christ, and started his show as a kind of very hip evangelist. I saw him at a Christian rally in Richmond, wasn’t put off (see, that’s really saying something…more about me than he, I suppose), and thought his show was a good mix of positive-messaged rock and roll, and the new-on-the-scene contemporary Christian music. His old connections (show biz, not drugs) came into play with interviews with big names, and the show won several Billboard awards. (Remember, I lost  one!) Ross continues to do significant ministry from a very evangelical heart.

Finally, I pay a warm tribute to someone I mentioned earlier in this e-journal: Bud Frimoth of Portland, OR.  Bud is a retired Presbyterian minister, but was serving as a pastor when he gathered some creative young people in his hometown and started a show that eventually went syndicated, a program called “The Open Door.” Since I remember hearing Bud’s show in Richmond (did I get it placed there?), I know that it featured an exuberant circle of young adults who wrote their own scripts and chose their own music, mostly pop rock hits. “Day by Day” from “Godspell” opened and closed the show each week, and scripts were available to listeners who wrote in. Bud’s program won the coveted Peabody Award.

Last year, Bud Frimoth won another award: his book on clown ministry (Bring in the Clowns: a Metaphor for Ministry)  won an award presented by the Presbyterian Writers Guild for “best first book.” I never met John Rydgren, Jon Rivers, nor Scott Ross, but by the grace of God, Bud and I have crossed paths more than once and every time is a blessing!

So, those are some of the other programs that had formats similar to “Celebration Rock.” Today, of course, contemporary Christian music has countless outlets, with whole radio formats devoted to it; even satellite networks and cable radio. But are there programs that interpret “secular” contemporary music, from country to hip hop? In the late 60’s into the early 70’s there were some pioneers who preceded the so-called “Jesus Movement” and let rock provide the soundtrack for exploring (or sometimes exploiting) the faith. Yet, there was something different about “Celebration Rock,” besides its hour-long format and its more limited syndication. I’ll try to describe that in my next entry.

Peace and grace, Jeff Kellam

Blowing My Own Horn

Because of fairly good time slots and a very long run in one city (Richmond, VA), plus the modest celebrity that came from the limited syndication of “Celebration Rock,” I was certainly in the public eye. Well, its ear, anyway. I’ve previously mentioned the road trips and invitations to local youth groups and other organizations (Jaycees, Women’s Clubs, clergy groups, etc.) to talk about rock music and its poetry and stories. But in the church “hierarchy” (a word admittedly strange to Presbyterians who pride themselves on their system of representative democracy), I was an enigma. I was ordained to the ministry, but for the first years of my vocation I did not serve as a pastor in a congregation.

My official “call” was to work for an ad hoc committee of folk connected to various church agencies that had responsibilities for (or special interest in) broadcasting. I fit into a category called “non-parish clergy.” As such, I had wide freedom to go with the Spirit, to seek new opportunities, to develop a media-oriented ministry limited only by imagination and budget. The ad hoc group that was responsible for oversight and funding was usually very supportive, issuing a few cautions along the way, sharing ideas for new ventures, and generally providing positive feedback on my work. In the first years of our relationship, the committee members did listen to the programs I produced, but as time went by and the committee became a Presbytery “subdivision,” it was evident to me that most the members were hearing of my work only through my reports or second-hand information. 

The first committee that put the old “Showcase” program on the air in 1968 was essentially nameless, as I recall. When I graduated from seminary in 1969, the call that led to my ordination was issued by “Richmond TRAV” (which took its name from the media arm of the former Presbyterian Church in the U. S.: TRAV stood for Television, Radio, and Audio Visuals). Later we came to call ourselves RPM (Richmond Presbyterian Media), and when our reach extended beyond Richmond, we called the organization PBM (Presbyterian Broadcast Ministry). Eventually our group was adopted by Hanover Presbytery and we became the Mass Media Subdivision.

I share all this, not because I think this information is of great importance historically, but to illustrate this point: I was not a lone ranger evangelist operating independently to build a private little media dynasty. “Celebration Rock” was my show (after all, as I’ve noted before, I shopped for the records, I wrote the scripts, voiced the program, edited the tape, wrote the shipping labels, stood in line at the post office, and managed the station relations), but in a greater sense the whole process belonged to the Church which issued the call and ordained me to this special ministry. I will always be thankful to God that I found myself in a place (Richmond, Union Seminary, Hanover Presbytery) that had history and vision when it came to radio ministry.

[OK, I wasn’t the brightest light on the marquee of the seminary, but it wasn’t long before I was reaching more ears through radio than all the big steeple Richmond pastors combined. And I wasn’t preaching to the choir. Pardon the blowing of my own horn, but now and then it occurs to me that for a guy who flunked out of college, I did know enough to let the Spirit lead and used my gifts, such as they were, doing what was for me, and the Church, just the right thing at just the right time. Not everyone agreed with that, however. I recall the Presbytery Executive saying on the occasion of more than one annual evaluation, “Jeff, we’re not quite sure what it is that you do, but we’re pretty sure you’re doing a good job.”]

Now, I did stay in Richmond, though I had offers to move to Atlanta and Pittsburgh, to work for larger church organizations in bigger “markets.”  But, again, I had such freedom in my ministry and was also comfortably rooted in Richmond. Unlike a media ministry colleague in a larger market, I wasn’t very good at self-promotion, and consequently my ministry didn’t grow beyond “Celebration Rock” and several other local radio efforts. My big city cousin (so to speak) was always promoting something he had produced or written; he got himself in the papers, on the news, into churches…and no matter where our paths crossed he had something new to sell. This is not a criticism, by any means. In fact, he was an exciting guy to watch, and he used his God-given gifts to the fullest. He blasted away with his tuba, while I tooted my Tonette. (Not sure what that is? Google it.) Just the difference between extroverts and introverts, I suppose.

There were times when it did seem expedient to promote my ministry. I had to remind Presbytery of my work in order to secure funding. And once CR went into syndication, it seemed like a good idea to add as many stations as we could afford, so thanks to the family printing business in Raleigh and a fan of the show who happened to be a graphic artist, PBM created a brochure, the text of which I modestly share:

THEY AIR IT:

“I like Jeff’s blend of music. His style is subtle, yet effective.” “We consider CELEBRATION ROCK more than just another religious program. We feel it is also a well-produced program that is an audience builder.” “I am most enthusiastic about CR and have urged Jeff to widen the syndication of the program to make it more available.” “The response has been very favorable.”

THEY LISTEN:

“Your show is great. A unique message of ‘caring’ is passed on.” “I consider CELEBRATION ROCK a beautiful program, so I take it seriously. I know I can become a better person if I listen to Christ’s teachings coming through the beauty of your program’s music.” “Keep it up. You’re heard! the interviews are great. And the enjoinment at the end to ‘be gentle with people…and with yourself’ is a most edifying and loving way to start a day.”

(Then on the inside of this 11 X 14 bright yellow poster-mailer is a description of the show.)

celebrating new life together…

• hit music
• album cuts

conversations about life and faith

• with folk like Phoebe Snow
• Seals and Crofts
• Harry Chapin
• Leo Sayer

audio/montages celebrating

• friendship
• peace
• freedom
• touch
• forgiveness
• love

creative concern about

• hunger
• conflict
• prejudice
• loneliness
• current issues

Presbyterian-produced…Catholic-awarded…ecumenically-accepted…

listener response…station praise…serving the youth/young adult community since 1968…an hour-long weekly special, mono or stereo, Scotch 176, 7½ ips, 10½ inch reels. Free for public service use (stations return tapes).

(That last part, about the tape specs, was important info for the stations that were interested in adding the show.)

Toot.

Celebrating the Earth

The first Earth Day was April 22, 1970. “Celebration Rock” was into its third year, and I must have noted the occasion, but I have no evidence of special program that week. I doubt I would have let it pass since environmental issues played so large a role in the music of the day. Still, I have no notes, scripts, or tapes from that month in 1970.

Thankfully, my friend Billie Starr Brightwell taped several “Celebration Rock” programs through the years and presented me with a collection of my writings that she entitled “Words on Words.”  Her title referred to my comments on the lyrics of many songs played on CR. I looked through it today and found the following listed under “Creation.” 

 CREATION

 

 

The 60’s – decade of civil rights; the 70’s —   decade of the environment; the 80’s — decade of nuclear threats and deterrents. All are related, of course. The rights and responsibilities of the human species to inhabit and enjoy the planet called to choose life —  that’s the continuing saga of creation. From the creation accounts of Genesis to the Psalmist’s respect for the majes­ty of mountains and the power of the seas, to Jesus’ teachings linking the Gospel to seeds and storms and fruit and wild­flowers… the Bible affirms that human life is physically dependent on the health of the planet, and spiritually defined by creation and re—creation.

 

As the rainbow meant promise and hope in the Old Testament, so the sunrise of Easter morning promises new life in the New Testament. It’s frightening to consider our generation might be the last to enjoy the rainbow or greet the sunrise.

 

The call is clear…to work for peace —    in families, neighborhoods and nations. “Blessed are the peacemakers; God will call them His children.”

 

 

I have kept a list of some of the programs I produced during the “Celebration Rock” years, and I found a reference to a program I did back in the late-70’s, a program listed as “The Jewish View of Creation.” Alas, there’s not only no script in my files, such as they are, nor is there a taped copy, and even sadder to report, I have no idea where that program came from. Did I interview a rabbi? Find an idea in an article? Run across some album that…, no, I doubt that.

 

But I know that the earth, the wonder of creation, the stewardship of our environment, and the blessings of life on this good planet did find expression in the music and lyrics of countless artists through the years that led up to and that grew from that first Earth Day.

 

The Earth is the Lord’s and everything in it.

 

 

Oh, one more thing: Google “College of the Atlantic” and see what a difference one small college can make in saving the earth!

 

 

 

Through the Eyes of Grace (Slick)

Grace Slick is 68. The Rock and Roll Hall of Famer, Jefferson Airplane (and Starship) alum, singer, flutist, song writer, and survivor (and now a painter) recorded a solo album called “Dreams” in 1980. She wasn’t exactly the kind of role model one would have expected to hear on a Christian radio program like “Celebration Rock,” but I didn’t choose role models or Christians for that matter when it came to showcasing albums. (Even some of the Christian singers had run-ins with the law. I could make a list…) But I saw Slick at the age of 39 on a late night TV talk show about the time her album came out, and I was fascinated with her.

Jefferson Airplane didn’t get much play on “Celebration Rock,” and I didn’t know much about Slick except for the tabloid stuff. But that night when I saw her on Letterman or Leno or was it Tom Snyder? — I decided to buy the “Dreams” album and explore her music. I wrote the following as an intro to the CR program that featured “Dreams.”

The first thing I noticed about her were her eyes.
Once beautiful, they were now tired, if not sad.
In the course of conversation, she tried to smile twice, without success.
She was older than I expected her to be.
I had the feeling she was older than she had expected to be at 39.

Fame had worn her down.
Fame and its dues: travel and alcohol, sound checks and pills, crowds and pot.
Loneliness and cocaine.
Her obscurity as a young musician had not lasted long;
success found her before she was ready.
(Is anyone ready?)
Money and fame were the welcome by-products of sharing her music with
a well-known band and an audience that loved her.

She was thrilled by the music for awhile,
but night after night, one performance after another,
her songs became hollow, her voice computerized, strained, harsh.
Make it sound just like the record, audiences demand.
Make it move me. Make it mine.

It was hard to find freedom, harder to find pleasure.
Everyone wanted to be her friend, but no one would.
The pressure pushed her further into paranoia and deep insecurity.
Her voice still had power, but her heart was empty.
Her music moved people, but trapped her.

She drank more, felt less.
She was stoned more than sober.
Tears came from weeping, not laughter.
She was dying more than living.
And she, so fragile like so many others in the community of music, broke.
She had lived hard, but had hardly lived.

Her eyes told her story more than her music.
Her age betrayed her songs.
Only her presence lent hope to her dreams.
Her name is Grace, and that may be her only salvation.

I played every cut from the album on that show. I listened to a CD copy of that program last fall and then found some yellow legal pad sheets folded into the album jacket: the hand-written script. Here are some excerpts.

On a song called “Seasons,” one written by Grace Slick herself —  “No matter what the season holds, children joyfully dance and sing as if it were always spring. The children are our models–they celebrate life at every turn. Grace Slick sings, ‘But when the children dance and sing as if the time were spring, when the seasons change everything, they find a joy in what it brings — so I will laugh and dance and watch the children sing; then I will have the chance of finding joy in everything.'”

“Side One began with a nightmare, but ends with a vision — children celebrating all of life’s moments, every season’s gifts. They find elements of springtime, new life, Easter’s promise, in every month, every week, each day. Bathed in idealism, the song may not be a reflection of reality, but a wistful, wishful thought of one who seeks a joyfully fulfilled life.”

“Seeking highs in the wrong places, putting trust in empty spaces, trusting no one while using everyone, singing only to ease the pain, life is wasted, all in vain.”

“The philosopher of the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes writes that everything is useless, “vanity of vanities,” but then reminds us that for everything there is a season: a time for birth, a time for death; for planting and pulling up, for killing and healing, for tearing down and building up, for sorrow and for joy. He also writes, ‘Young people, enjoy your youth! Be happy while you are still young. And remember your Creator in the days of your youth.'”

“From Ecclesiastes and Grace Slick, there are thoughts to celebrate for the young and the young at heart!”

Another song is called “Do It the Hard Way.”

“It’s a tragic story, so full of truth it can move us to tears, because we know her. It’s a pathetic story, so full of defeat it can move us to despair, because we know her. It may be an autobiographical story, so full of parallels to her own life that Grace Slick may be confessing to us, I was a fool.”

“Alcohol and pills, a deadly blend of drugs, designed to help her get more out of living each day. But listen to her: ‘If I can just keep on taking when someone else is giving it away. I’ve got to let them know I am the exception to the rule.’ But the reality is ‘she’s been living too high, trying to get through to heaven at night.’ She did it the hard way.

“She nearly lost her career — she nearly blew every good gift, from her music to her daughter because ‘she was bound to go down way before she fell.’ The song ends with a question, ‘What will you do if you become the fool?’ We may not know Grace Slick personally, but we know people like her: people who kid themselves into believing that artificial highs lead to the sweet life.” [Here followed another song, this one titled “Get Off.”]

Finally, my reflection on her song entitled “Garden of Man.”

“There’s a song of love from Grace Slick, using the analogy of seeds planted in a human garden, seeds bearing the fruit of love. ‘Come with me, rest your head. There’s a flower bed for every seed that may be floating free. Come in through your dreams and follow them wherever they may lead, because we need to grow love…’til we can see our love directed to everyone we know.'”

“Grace uses the image of a mirror to remind us that our love for others begins in self-love. It is much easier to love others unconditionally, when we feel good about ourselves, our gifts, our life. Like, ‘Love your neighbor as you love yourself.'”

“She sings, ‘Open up and listen to the quiet night that gives itself to every morning sound, then rise up to the light and you will know that your life was meant to share all the love you found.'”

“From darkness into the light–from death that is hatred to Easter that is Love…Grace Slick has unknowingly (I presume) stumbled onto the Christian message of God’s enduring love for us, and the commandment that we love one another. This song called ‘Garden of Man’ seems to have roots in the Easter story and First Corinthians 13… I wonder who should tell Grace.”

Of course, there was much more to the album, the “Celebration Rock” script, and the show itself, but that is one example of letting the artist speak through her own words (or those written by others who contributed to her album), while I added my reflections as commentary. I tried very hard each week to let the music stand on its own, but at the same time, I listened for the gospel connections that helped interpret contemporary music through the eyes (and words) of grace, that is, God’s unconditional and unmerited love.

All Good Things…

The proverb is “All good things must come to an end.” In the 14th century, it was Chaucer who said, “There is an end to everything, to good things as well.” In my previous entry I wrote of the demise of WBBL,  essentially the flagship station of “Celebration Rock.” While this blog has not yet come to an end, I thought I’d reflect about how “Celebration Rock” came to its last program. (Then, I’ll write some more entries, just because I’m into this!)

The program’s first broadcast was in February, 1968. The last show was aired on Richmond’s WMXB (B-103.7) on November 26, 1989, a run just short of 22 years. I really couldn’t remember the date of the last show, or even the year. The end of the run wasn’t as notable as its debut. But I found the tape and there is is: a program that carried the title “Changes,” and in parentheses, “The last program.” And the date it was aired.

Three considerations led to the last show. One was that radio itself was changing. Another was that the church was changing. And I was tired. (And if I was tired, the program may have sounded tired too, but as I listen to the programs from the last year, they still sound OK to me; in fact, more than OK. In terms of content, they were the strongest programs in the series. It’s just that there were fewer of them. Many of the programs in the last couple of years of the run were re-runs, recycled programs to fill the local Sunday morning time slot when I didn’t have time to produce new content. The time when “Celebration Rock” was my major vocational responsibility each week had long passed. I had been called to many new forms of ministry in the second decade of CR’s run, and the program had become a kind of time-consuming hobby. It was a hobby that was well-appreciated by listeners, but it was something that I had less time to do each week.)

Radio was changing. Deregulation meant that stations felt less obligation to air public service programming, and “religious” programs were ordinarily given the least desirable time slots. As “Celebration Rock” moved from its local 8 p.m. Sunday night broadcast on WBBL/WLEE into syndication, I didn’t offer the show to any station that intended to air it earlier than 7 a.m. Sundays. Many offered far better slots than that, of course. CR was on some stations on Sunday nights, but on most at 7, 8, or 9 a.m. I always thought that those who listened at night probably listened more intently, as they wound down their weekend in a quieter place. The Sunday a.m. listener was likely up at that time in order to get somewhere, perhaps to church, to breakfast, to the Sunday paper, and likely to hear only part of the program.

I was always committed to CR being an hour-long show. Maybe I might have found more stations if the show had been 30 minutes, but to my knowledge no station ever refused the program because of its length. Most were glad to fill a whole hour’s worth of “public service” time with something that 1) fit their format; 2) was ecumenical; and 3) didn’t ask listeners for money. That said, as radio changed even my local Richmond station (then WRVQ) was set to move the program from 7 a.m. to 6 a.m. I moved the program to WEZS (which eventually became WMXB…no need to write this down) which gave me an 8 a.m. slot. Still, the handwriting of deregulation was on the wall, and programs like mine were destined for the radio graveyard.

The church was changing. From its inception, “Celebration Rock” had been funded as an outreach ministry of the Presbyterian Church. Presbyterians in Richmond had a long tradition of broadcasting, and many levels of the church, from local congregations to the Presbytery and Synod, had contributed to my ministry. (Incidentally, the largest budget item for the show was actually my salary as a minister hired to do media outreach for the church. The production costs for CR were modest; the syndication costs were larger, and somewhat controversial, as local church folk asked, “Why are we putting money into a radio program for Pittsburgh, or Raleigh?” But the more mission-minded minds prevailed.

At some point in the long run of the show, a few members of the committee that oversaw my work were ready to move on to other media involvement. They were right to want to move on, to explore cable TV, or producing videos for local churches. And as their staff person, I did expand our media outreach, but was reluctant to give up what I considered the foundation of our work, and what I thought I was best at. In the mid-1980’s, the Presbytery where I was serving as part-time staff for media and youth was about to re-organize, and it was clear that media ministry was a very low priority. Something new was on the horizon for me, and I left the presbytery to found the Video Education Center at the Presbyterian School of Christian Education (PSCE) in Richmond.

PSCE built an audio studio for our video ministry, and the school was glad to have me produce “Celebration Rock” in its space, and with the school’s name added to the end of each show. At about the same time, I became Associate Pastor at the Bon Air Presbyterian Church in a Richmond suburb ( a part-time position), and between the church and PSCE I was encouraged to keep “Celebration Rock” going. Thus the new closing credit at the end of the program: “Celebration Rock is produced in cooperation with the Presbyterian School of Christian Education, a graduate center for educational ministry in Richmond, Virginia…and with thanks to the Bon Air Presbyterian Church. Now, this is Jeff Kellam, reminding you to be gentle with people, and with yourself.”

By this time, CR had slowly pulled out of syndication because of the expense, and was heard only on Richmond’s WMXB. After almost 22 years, as mentioned earlier, I was getting tired. I was also becoming out of touch with the current music scene, and it seemed to me to be more difficult to find rock music that fed thoughtful reflection and the weekly theme of “celebration.”  Each week I would get to Friday afternoon and wonder if I had any energy left to “pull something together” for Sunday morning’s program. I found it easier to look through old tapes and pick one that had only run two or three times before, and drive it over to the station.

Ending the show turned out to be more relief than sadness. Besides, as the headline read in the Richmond Times-Dispatch a few weeks later, “Rock Minister Turns to Jazz.” (That is close to what the headline read anyway. When I find the clipping, I’ll edit this and make it right.) Thanks to friends at the Presbyterian Media Mission of Pittsburgh, I was invited to produce, write, and host a new syndicated show called “The Spirit of Jazz.” But that’s another story altogether…

Next in this (cyber)space, excerpts from a “Celebration Rock” script based on a Grace Slick album.

An Aside: WBBL

Since “Celebration Rock” had its debut on WBBL before being syndicated to stations in other U. S. markets, I thought a few words about this unique station might be in order. Without going into all the historical and technical details about its status as a part-time station sharing an AM frequency with another station in the same city (WLEE), it’s enough to note that WBBL was both a pioneering effort in religious broadcasting and in its later years a very creative little station that held its own in terms of public service.

WBBL was founded in January, 1924 by Grace Covenant Presbyterian Church in Richmond, VA. The stories about its founding are classic tales that illustrate the infancy of the medium at that time. One story told to me by an elderly member of Grace Covenant related a Saturday drive up to Washington to gain a signature from a staff member of the Federal Radio Commission authorizing the station to sign on the air for the first time. The station’s first transmitter pumped out 15 watts of power, its antenna was a wire stretched across the roof, and the station’s “staff” consisted of a deacon, a Boy Scout executive, and two Scouts. (Was there was a merit badge for radio in 1924?) 

WBBL had a specific reason for its first broadcast. A well-known evangelist R. A. Torrey (1856 – 1928 ) was speaking at Grace Covenant, and Dr. C. B. Pearson (the deacon) was in charge of publicizing the event. Apparently, he also knew that the huge sanctuary still wouldn’t hold all those who wanted to hear Torrey, so Pearson worked diligently to enable a broadcast to the church’s parking lot and the surrounding neighborhood. 

Once WBBL was equipped and licensed, Richmond had its first radio station. When Torrey had left town, the church began broadcasting its morning and evening worship services, adding a Tuesday night program of “high class” piano music. What a surprise to reread the station’s history and discover that a phone line was installed so that people could call in their requests to the pianist! WBBL’s history booklet also notes that besides worship services, the station’s early years included broadcasts of election returns and an occasional football game played at Mayo’s Island Park. By 1926 WBBL’s power had increased to 100 watts, and its ecumenical audience could hear the station throughout much of Virginia.

Eventually, as other stations came on the air in Richmond, WBBL found and remained in its niche, airing only its two Sunday worship services, one at 11 a.m. and the other at 8 p.m. Again, without going into historical detail, WLEE eventually came on the air when WBBL agreed to share its frequency in exchange for the use of WLEE’s far more powerful transmitter and taller towers. WLEE would officially sign off the air at 11 a.m. Sunday morning, and WBBL signed on, sending its signal to WLEE’s facilities via phone lines. WBBL would remain on the air until 12:15 p.m. (to accommodate services that ran over an hour), and then the process repeated Sunday nights at 8 p.m. for WBBL’s hour long evening service. (And with WRVA and many other stations playing music on Tuesday evenings, there was no need for the pianist and he or she lost her time slot to progress.)

When Grace Covenant ended its tradition of Sunday evening services around 1959, the church changed WBBL’s Sunday evening offering to a variety of programs over the next decades. “The Presbyterian Hour” presented organ concerts from the church sanctuary, sermons, lectures from various Presbyterian conferences, and a monthly series “Any Questions?” which encouraged an audience estimated at 18,000 to call in with, well, any questions.

By 1967, WBBL’s frequency-mate WLEE had become the rock and roll home of “The Good Guys” and huge ratings. And all those young listeners were turning off their radios when “The Presbyterian Hour” came on. That’s when Clifton Dixon, a local pastor, offered his idea to the Presbyterian stewards of the WBBL airwaves. What about a rock show with a Christian message designed for the young audience which was listening to WLEE? [This part of the story is told in the earliest entries of this blog. Seek and you shall find…]

“Showcase” went on WBBL’s air in February, 1968. After I had produced and hosted the 200 programs in that series, I renamed the show “Celebration Rock,” and it continued to air for several years there. Then, as FM began to rock in stereo, WLEE’s audience shrank, and that station did quite an about-face, switching formats to “The Music of Your Life,” playing big bands and pop singers who had dominated radio in the 1930’s through the mid-50’s. Since “Celebration Rock” had already found a home on a stereo FM rocker (WRVQ: Q94), it didn’t make much sense to play Queen, Chicago, and Kansas and other youth-oriented music for WLEE’s senior citizen audience, and we created a new Sunday night show for WBBL.

We called the new offering “Flight 1480” and gave it the subtitle, “A Journey Toward Understanding.” With the updating and renovation of WBBL’s studio in 1978, we made sure we installed a “tape delay” cart (tape cartridge) system so we could do live call-in programs with a five second delay just in case… “Flight 1480” was indeed a call-in format, with callers invited to comment on the evening’s public affairs topic or to question guests, but we also included film and book reviews, religious PSA’s, music, and just about everything but football scores from Mayo’s Island. Unlike the early days of “Showcase,” the audience for that Sunday night “magazine format” in the 1980’s was tiny, and there were nights when our volunteer phone producers took only a call or two.

Behind the scenes, we still had a good time most Sunday nights, though. John Valentine (a long-time Q94 weekend deejay under another name) was our engineer through much of that time, and we had a few friends who came around to the studio just to hand out. Some of the on-air guests were terribly boring, droning on about very important issues, and as hard as we tried, we could not rescue those programs. But other shows on issues like abortion, gun control, and sex education did generate some energy and calls. Oddly, the one program that really surprised me in terms of the number of calls and the interest generated among listeners was on celibacy. I expected no calls that night, but the phone kept ringing with many callers witnessing to the value of celibacy, even for certain times in marriage. You just never know…

I had a couple of co-hosts for that program, including Elena Delgado, a seminary student who is now a pastor. It was good to have some Sunday nights off, and soon Elena took over the program on her own, alternating with me. One other co-host made the local and national news when he made his “Flight 1480” debut. He was 12 year-old Layne Wood whose only experience in media was delivering newspapers. But Layne had the idea that he could offer a youth viewpoint not heard on the air locally, he could give advice to young teens, and he could interview some teachers or community leaders who worked in youth-oriented service organizations. Except for the “advice” part, I liked the idea and when Layne did his first co-host stint, WWBT-12 cameras were there. The second night he was on, the local “PM Magazine” crew was there, and the segment was offered to PM stations across the country. There weren’t many 12 year-olds with their own radio shows. Of course, this one wasn’t Layne’s “own” either, but we enjoyed the wide publicity.

Layne’s stay on the show was not long-lived. His “advice” to call-in teens was risky from the start, and I knew that my role was to moderate his views with a more pastoral (but not clinical) professional approach to often very serious problems. After a serious gaffe on air, Layne’s role changed to more of a “youth viewpoint” commentator, and after a few months he left the program.

For some reason, we changed the name of the program to “Alternatives” after a couple of years. Same format, basically, but I was in the process of moving away from WBBL and new folks were coming in to host, including my friend Matt Matthews. Matt had a journalism background, knew how to ask questions and how to choose topics, and grew very naturally into the host’s role. I know that no matter how well-produced those WBBL efforts were, there was no overcoming the popularity of Sunday night TV shows and the very small audience that tuned into WBBL/WLEE for a local talk show. 

One other quick note about WBBL’s programming. In the morning WBBL slot, because the worship service didn’t always run to 12:15, we had time to fill. Instead of filling with organ music (which was the tradition for many years…and don’t get me wrong, it was a fine pipe organ, the musicians were excellent, and my wife is a church organist…so organ music has its place…like public radio’s “Pipe Dreams”), we created something called the “Grace Covenant Sunday Magazine.” The format consisted of a weekly series of taped segments of various lengths that could add up to as much as 15 minutes or as little as a minute. Book and film reviews, community announcements or interviews segments…it was a creative format, hosted by me or Grace Covenant volunteers.

When WLEE eventually went off the air (it was hard to sell a struggling AM station encumbered by a part-time, share-time partner like WBBL), WBBL lost its WLEE transmitter and as I understand it (not being on the scene at the time), Grace Covenant used its studio to produce its worship broadcast for airing on time it bought on another Richmond station. WBBL’s license was not renewed, and the call letters were assigned to a station in Grand Rapids, MI. This was a sad turn of events, since WBBL had been one of the nation’s oldest licensed radio stations, one of the ten oldest religious stations, had held the same ownership and call letters through that period, and was undoubtedly one of the last of the share-time stations (for better or worse). Still, the industry was, and is, always changing.

And those changes affected “Celebration Rock” as well. It had carried on for over two decades, but you know what they say about “all good things…”

 

Rock on the Road II

As mentioned some time ago, at least three “Celebration Rock” programs dealt forthrightly with human sexuality, a topic of high interest to young listeners, but rarely discussed intelligently on radio back then. Church folk mostly condemned the overtly sexual lyrics of many rock songs, assuming that the messages of those songs would encourage promiscuity or at least immoral thoughts. Drugs, sex, and rock and roll, indeed. I’ve already mentioned the two programs that featured an interview with the Rev. Ms. Dodie Rossell, a seminary classmate of mine who directed the Virginia Institute for Adolescent Counseling and Training. Between interview segments, I played as many songs about sex as I could fit into the show, using the music to illustrate the topics we were discussing.

About that time, a local Richmond church asked me to lead a weekend retreat on a theme related to “sex education.” But the rector was uncertain if the vestry or church leadership would approve such an event. So, the rector announced that I would be their resource person to lead a retreat on rock music. And more quietly we announced the sharper focus: sexual content in current hits. The church wasn’t sure how many kids would give up a good part of their weekend for the retreat, but when we came up with the theme “A Weekend of Sex and Rock” we figured we wouldn’t have an attendance problem. By the time we finally made the posters, I admit we softened the announcement to something like “Sex, Love, and Rock and Roll.” Still pretty good, I think.

We had three program units of about 90 minutes each for the Saturday through Sunday event. The first was my general introduction to the art of listening to music and paying attention to lyrics. I did focus most closely on hit songs about romantic relationships. The second unit centered on sexuality in rock music. The records we used for that segment were about purely physical sexuality– sex without love, commitment, or even relationship (like most sit-coms these days). This was a helpful way to move away from music as the focus of discussion to a deeper discussion with the teens about adolescent sexuality.  

Our third block centered on music about committed, loving relationships. What is love? What are appropriate ways to show it or express it? Admittedly, this was a very different time and culture from the present: at least 25 years ago.  There was no internet, no hip hop culture, no “Friends” or “Two-and-a-Half Men” on TV. Talking about sexuality was dicey, especially in a church youth group context. But the music those teenagers heard hour-by-hour on radio, records, or tapes (even that sounds really dated, doesn’t it?) helped us open up the topic and engage in good conversation in a safe, accepting, and supportive environment. I wonder what church youth group leaders are doing today with that topic?

In my tease for this entry, I mentioned not only a weekend of sex (which we have just covered if you were paying attention!) but something about “too much wine.” Here is that story, and it again deals with Episcopalians.

When I arrived at the Episcopal conference center in Virginia, Shrinemont, I was prepared to do the normal Friday night through Sunday lunch “Celebration Rock” retreat with some 100+ senior high youth. I had selected the music we would be dealing with, put the tracks on cassette tape for convenience, dragged along my two Ampex speaker-amps and met with the planning staff that Friday afternoon. One of the retreat leaders then sprung the surprise on me: would I be the officiant for the closing service of Holy Communion? “I’m not sure your Bishop would approve,” I told them. “We Presbyterians and you Episcopalians don’t share a common doctrine about Communion, sad to say. So, why not have one of your own clergy lead the service?” Because, it turned out, they were all leaving Saturday night to do their services in their home churches. I would be the only ordained minister there on Sunday morning.

I was very careful to look over the Episcopal liturgy for Communion before agreeing to lead the sacrament. The words are very similar to my own tradition, so I was going to leave the polity issues to the higher ups, and I said yes, I would lead the service. “We do have a deacon to assist you,” they assured me.

At the end of the weekend, after a solid retreat of processing with them their favorite rock music, plus hours of recreation, creative activities, skits, free time, and too little sleep, it came time to close the event with worship and Holy Communion. The deacon had prepared the bread and wine, and I had written a brief meditation to lead into the Meal. I noticed that unlike grape-juice-Communion-Presbyterians, the Episcopal youth would be drinking real wine. (Odd that we Presby-types use real bread and they use something akin to plastic wafers, and we use unfermented juice while they use real wine… not significant, just odd.)

After the scripture and meditation, the hundred or so teenagers stood in a circle around the worship space, and I said the “words of institution” that most Christian traditions share. We broke the bread, a common loaf, and the pieces went around the circle, from one to another. When the bread got to me, I took a piece from the inside of the remainder of the loaf, realizing it had been through 200 hands before I got it. Only then did it occur to me that there might be a problem with the wine. See, I don’t “drink.” That is, about all the alcohol I consume is a little communion cup full when the churches I attend offer wine. But there was the deacon filling a large chalice to the brim with wine, and probably not the best wine at that.

We said the words, “This is the cup of the new covenant poured out for you,” and the chalice went from teen to teen around the circle. Each sipped a little from the common cup, with the deacon ready to refill the cup at some point along the circular path. When the deacon came back and stood beside me, I asked the question that had occurred to me earlier when the bread had come full circle. I knew from my monastery visits that a Catholic priest comsumed all the wine that was left in the chalice after all the people had been served, so I asked the deacon in a whisper, “Do I have to drink all the wine that’s left in the chalice when it gets to me?” I think he said something like, “Uh-huh.” Which translated into, “Of course; you’re the priest here.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” I said quietly back to him. “I’ve never drunk a full chalice of wine in one big gulp before.”

“Big Gulp. That’s 7-Eleven. This is Communion wine.” He let me hang there for a beat or two. And then he offered wonderful words that relieved my anxiety about chugging down all that wine from a cup that had touched 100 pairs of lips, and that surely had some bits of bread crumbs floating around the surface… “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of that later,” the deacon said. Whew.

Besides that wisp of a story, I did take home something more substantial from that Shrinemont weekend. One of the activities we did following my music presentations was using various art materials to respond to a song we had heard. One teen had used colorful pipe cleaners to form the figure of a grand piano, its pianist, and a guitar player, and drummer. I mean, it was really good. Someone else did an excellent charcoal drawing of Stevie Wonder. I chose clay and sculpted the heads of an old man and an infant, each about the size of a fist. I have no idea what song I had found inspiration from, but I kept those clay figures for at least ten years, signifying God’s love from birth to the grave…and beyond. They were on my office desk until the day I packed up my things and left Richmond, when I mashed the two clay chunks back together and left the remains for someone else to play with. Dust to dust, clay to clay.