REQUIEM

I know as much about "blogging" about having just conducted the Mozart setting of the REQUIEM as I do about resting after having just conducting the Mozart setting of the REQUIEM. Next to nothing. I sort of wish it was absolutely "nothing."
The first thing I realized: no questions concerning the experience naturally rose up within me last Thursday, and still to this moment. Was "it" a success? ....Wha'? Was what a success? What is "success?" Well, how did it go?....Uh, from what I remember, I took a deep breath while stepping onto the podium and was still breathing when I turned around and stepped down. What did it mean to you to have performed the work? I didn't perform the work as far as I know; neither, as I reckon, did the soloists, choir, organist or orchestra, nor Mozart, Sussmeyer and the rest of us. God performed the REQUIEM then, last Thursday, before then and ever since and forever, amen. Seriously. Really? Really.
I think now of distance. Even though God is ever imminent and present to me, I do remember the intransient weight of the distance between the weakness and darkness in my soul and the Lux Aeternum to which the prayers of the REQUIEM are flung with flayed muscles towards MERCY, MERCY, MERCY.
I think though it is often difficult to be a human, even if just in the way Descartes reduced that state of being, it is infinitely more of blessing to endure the inexorable decline of a creature in His Image, than to relent one's soul to the author of lies and betrayal. To "go there" involves no distance whatever, it's actually quite easy apparently.
But I won't know REQUIEM in this life. I will, however, light a candle so as not to curse the darkness and distance. He is there. He is listening. He has spoken and called my name. And, if I know one thing of the REQUIEM, it is my answer to that.
When we have video, it will go up.
God bless us all.