Distracting joy
On Sunday Paula and I played the role of groupies to a musical ensemble called Missio. Their soloist is our friend from Strecno, and she invited us to stay with her family for the weekend. We travelled with the group to Dolny Kubin on Sunday, where they performed in a church that afternoon. Their music is rich, spiritual, haunting – and gorgeous. And I wish I could get it on iTunes.
When I go to a concert of any kind, I watch the musicians closely to see whether they look like they are having fun. Of course, you can’t always tell just from looking; but for some reason I enjoy the music more when the performers are themselves delighting in their own creativity and beauty. I mean by this the delight of humility and simplicity, if that makes sense. And I can tell you that the members of Missio simply enjoyed themselves.
I had an opportunity to confirm my observation after the concert, as the group gathered in the basement of the parents of one of the members, and we were their guests. Their interaction with each other and with us convinced me that there wasn’t a single prima-donna gene among them. They were just ordinary, happy folk who happened to be amazing musicians.
Besides the music, Paula and I had a rare taste of another kind of joy with our host couple (whose unparalleled hospitality I have written about before). After the concerts Saturday and Sunday evenings, we sat together for late dinners, then lingered at the table for hours and hours in unhurried conversation. I didn’t have a watch on and couldn’t see a clock, but I didn’t care what time it was. We were just enjoying each other, in an odd mixture of broken English and butchered Slovak. It was well after midnight when we went to bed – and if you know me, that’s weird.
But joy has a way of distracting you from other things – even from the need for sleep.