GEEKNOTE: Shortly after the conclusion of the Cuban Missle Crisis in late 1962, my dad was faced with a decision: Re-up for another term with the US Navy and a likely promotion to Lt. Commander or head back to home to Florida. The promotion would have likely sent him into a desk job instead of patient care, so over the Christmas holidays, he scoped out two of the three Florida communities he had been corresponding with. He didn't stop in the first town and he never made it to the third town. Something about the "Welcome Dr. Marlowe" sign draped across the front of an office building on US 19... He piled all of us, including my VERY pregnant mom in the car and we headed to Florida. My youngest brother was born a month later.
My folks grew up around the corner from a Methodist church in Jacksonville. I was named after two Methodist ministers. On arriving in New Port Richey, it shouldn't be a surprise that we checked out a little Methodist Church at the corner of Jefferson and Pennsylvania. The church was in the process of a bulding program to build a new sanctuary a block north. When that new sanctuary was opened, it featured a carillon in the steeple. Those of you who lived here back in the 60's may well recall the sound of the bells.
Many things changed over the years and the bells fell silent.
My life has taken a number of twists and turns over the years as well. Showing up for church became less important.
We attended some pretty conservative churchs for a while The confusion of the GOP for Christianity didn't sit quite right. This trend started in the 80's and may finally have run its course as some religious leaders are understanding what they have done by tying their churches to a very falible political party.
Well meaning Calvinist friends tried to convert me, but I'm convinced that I was never meant to believe in predestination. All they managed to do was shake my faith by offering me a very small god to believe in. Still, there were times I could feel a tug letting me know that is something more to life: The fall colors in the mountains, the haunting organ sounds in a cathedral in Vienna, quiet times outdoors. Or as Jethro Tull said it: "But as all these things did come to pass, the Spirit that did cause man to create his God lived on within all men."
It is hard to explain why a praise service with screaming electric guitars and an awesome drummer just don't do it for me. Boston, Roxette, Rush, and even Jethro Tull all have their place, but it isn't in church on Sunday morning. Gregorian chants and songs by the Wesley brothers are more my speed.
Earlier this year, I decided to attend a few services at First Methodist with my mom. It felt like home and I kept coming.
I re-joined in September and was almost immediately drafted to help with the sound system. With a new set of eyes, I've been trying to figure out what gear does what.
One early discovery was the "Auditory Assistance Transmitter". Hmmm. By rights, if there is a transmitter, you would think there would be receivers. Yep. There were three almost forgotten receivers in the ushers cabinet. We broke them out and had some of our hearing impaired parishoners try them out. We've now got more receivers and a sign letting folks know that we have them.
I've tweaked the volume on the monitor speakers and done some testing with some of the mikes that don't normally get used. We've got some other things to test out over the coming months so we can make full use of a very nice sound system. I do love a challenge.
One part of the sound system duties is to fire off the the newly rebuilt carillon at the close of the service and again at the end of the Sunday School hour. If you hear the celebration bells at 9:30am or 10:40am on Sunday morning, it is likely I'm standing at the control board with my finger on the carillon control button.
Somehow, the sound of those bells has brought me full circle back to where I belong.
Rob Marlowe, Senior Geek
Gulfcoast Networking, Inc.
http://www.gulfcoastnetworking.com
