Game Face & Amazing Grace

Recently, my oldest friend Jean reminded me of my life as a high school thespian. She remembered how I used to retreat to the wings of the auditorium to “put on [my] ‘game face.’”

Typically an outgoing, gregarious gal, before performances, I turned inward. I found a deserted bathroom in the building, I applied my own makeup, I fixed up my hair, I went backstage, and I tuned out my regular life. I pretended to be someone else. I found it relaxing, invigorating, and a heck-of-a-lot easier than taking the pressure straight on, “facing the music” as vulnerable, imperfect Me. I felt much more comfortable inhabiting another character, even with her inherent flaws and foibles, than accepting myself as…well, human. There are problems with this form of denial, I realize—probably requiring much more psychotherapy than I could ever afford. But tonight, it came in handy—in a healthy, helpful way, I think.

I was asked to sing a solo at the A-Town ecumenical Good Friday service. I agreed—too quickly, as usual. I don’t consider myself a “singer.” I can carry the tune and sound sort of pretty…sometimes. But I don’t have the pipes of a soloist. I’ve heard too many real singers to believe otherwise. This isn’t false modesty; it’s simply the truth. But, if a soloist is needed, and no one else is available, I can fill the bill in an acceptable manner…most times. My main problem, like lots of singers—even “real” ones—is nerves. I know I can hit the notes, and if I relax, I can make it come out nicely. But if I let adrenaline get the better of me, my vocal chords will constrict and wobble and basically obliterate the comfort level of everyone in the room—most of all, Me!

This Good Friday evening, I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted to focus on the real “Star” of the service, Jesus. And I wanted my song to help other worshipers do the same. So, I thought of Jean, and I tried my old trick. Instead of “going solo” as Me, I decided to play the part of Good Friday Service Soloist. I pretended the sanctuary was a theater, Jesus was the director, and he had asked me to sing the song as part of the play he had written. I hope this doesn’t seem sacrilegious. I truly believe in the Divine Sacrifice for us sinners’ souls. And going into my old “Game Face” prep mode accomplished its intended purpose: My nerves steadied, I sang from the heart, and I turned the proverbial spotlight on the Man of Sorrows, with these words:

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble!
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?
Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble!
Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?

Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?
Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble!
Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?