The Church Band-The Good Old Days?

Seated around the small music office of the arts high school where i completed my student teaching, a chorus teacher, a piano teacher, a Berklee educated Jazz teacher, and me -the intern, the discussion was abuzz about student's weekend performance obligations.

"Many of our students perform here as well as at their local churches on the weekends",  pronounced a the young choral teacher. "I know a few from my own church, many have received their first musical acclaim in the churches. There was a murmur of agreement amongst the men at the table. One by one each mentioned their church bands and programs and their respective denominations. AME, Baptist, Pentecostal, Church of Christ and myself being the only Seventh Day Adventist. Many took interest and commented on how famous the Adventist music programs are.

I explained that my church had three choirs, a professional band (some of the members were paid- I was unfortunately not amongst them), two part-time organists, a full praise and worship crew, a sign language praise team, and a drum corp for the young people. All were in awe of the sheer size of the music program. The chorus teacher explained that he was in charge of the 75 piece choir at his church, but had never heard of churches with three large choirs- each of which averaged at about 50-75 members!

While it is still a painful and sensitive subject, of why I left, I sometimes look back with relish at those days. In fact, at the time I left the church the band had three keyboardists, 2 percussionists, 2 bass players, one full-time and one part-time organist, a saxophonist, and myself covering flute, clarinet, various saxophones, and trumpet.

I had tried out for the drum corps which at the time consisted of a crappy Bass drum, a tri-tom, and an old fashioned snare drum and a couple cymbals that my uncle had bought. But as always the drama monster showed its ugly head and I was pushed out. I was even given private practice time on the instruments, but that proved problematic because the other members of the corps would return from lunch and kick me out.

As a church musician I was on the rotation schedule. Sabbath school was a class that started together in the sanctuary at 10am and ran through to 11am. Divine Hour was from 11:30 to about 2:30. followed by lunch and a rest period, then AYS (Adventist Youth Services) would come in the evening. I originally began at Divine Hour which had many features I could cater to. Some pieces I would use the clarinet, baby christenings were accompanied the flute playing the Adventist hymn "Lead Them My God, To Thee", in a similar fashion the offertory would be serenaded by what ever instrument the praise team wished for. The crowning end of the service always ended with "We Have This Hope" which I would fanfare with the trumpet. AYS was free territory to play the saxophone which i projected over the blast of the band.

Pathfinder Sabbaths were a special treat for all! The pathfinders would march in to the loud cadences of the drum corps with military precision. It was very special and unique to the faith. However, as I stood there, I felt like I died a little inside.

To this day the sound of drums (particularly the sound of the quad or multi-tom drum) brings a tear to my eye and a knot to my stomach. Its not only because of the failed attempts to join the drum corp (I tried dozens of times) but the truth about being a gay and closeted Adventist youth. Being singled out for attacks by the other youth. I was also plain, I didn't have fancy clothes and dress sharply like the others. I was chubby as a teen, and I was different and boy did I stick out.

Gender stereotyping was common place in the church and still is. I failed to join the drum corps so the only other competition groups open to me at camporee events were basketball, volleyball (my church didn't have a team) and pinewood derby (I wasn't as interested, but we won first place). The only other group I wanted to join is fancy drill. Which under the conference guidelines was open to boys and girls. However my church refused to let me do it. I thought I was being ostracized for being bad at the drums (yet I was so well loved in the church service), but it was far more serious!

One sabbath, a visiting pastor came to the church. I have always been skeptical of those who promoted that the holy spirit could point one to a sinner. He placed a question box in the back of the sanctuary during sabbath school which he would use to host a question and answer service during AYS that evening. Someone had slipped in the following question, "I think I am a Homosexual, is there any way God can fix me?" The youth in the audience were in a frenzy, looking for me to push to the front. I had felt an urge to sit in a completely different area that night and no one seemed to be able to find me, even though I was right in front of them. I sank in my seat as a firestorm ensued- I had been set up!

Since then, my relationship with the youth deteriorated. No matter of the things the other youth did (wearing makeup, sex, drinking, smoking, parties and makeup- all banned or curtailed by the church), I would continue to be the black sheep of the crowd.
In my first year of college, I just disappeared from the church, unable to deal with their ridicule. yet I was still called and asked to come back to play for the church. I never accepted the invitation. But I responded to their request to return the church's instruments.

Years later, I sat in a theater near Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts. In the audience were LGBTQA people who all had one common story; they were all Seventh Day Adventists. As the light flickered on, and my leg had fallen numb from the cramped quarters, I noticed a tear in the corner of my eye. I finally were among people who understood me because they all had felt that way before. I had met the Seventh Gay Adventists. I knew immediately that the people in that very room in some way, shape, or form could relate to the pain and loneliness of losing their faith. Being an Adventist is nothing like being any other faith. A kinship of culture that has different local flavors but is in essence the same.

When one of the teachers at the table asked me, "why did you leave the church?", all I could respond with was-"because they didn't pay."