The Waltonian

It was an uneventful Saturday afternoon, and I was lounging on a hard wooden chair with my cousin in her dining room. One of her young sons was creating fences on his plate with his vegetables while his little brother, after descending the peak of his high chair with help from his mom, ran to a nearby room to destroy his favorite puzzle. During a rare quiet moment, my cousin stretched down for the diaper bag with a sudden smile. “Westin, guess what I found today?” She reached in the bag like a magician garnering attention for the big trick, and pulled out a tiny plastic cow. Westin sat frozen, his fork in midair. An incredulous grin spread across his face, and he jumped out of his chair, laughing gleefully and forgetting his tiny food fortress. He snatched the cow and held it high like a winning lottery ticket. “YES! Look at this, Bennett!” He rushed to his brother, who babbled nonsensical shouts of glee at the sight of their long-lost toy. If only I could see the world through their eyes, I thought to myself. I waited there with a smile, unimpressed but amused at their show of untempered joy for such a silly little discovery.

In Matthew 11, right after he denounces the towns that refused to believe his message of salvation, Jesus prays, “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this is what you were pleased to do” (Matt. 11:25-26, NIV).

This isn’t the only instance Christ insists that children know something the rest of us forgot when we traded our homemade pasta jewelry for neckties. In Matthew 19, Jesus counters his disciples’ assumptions with an invitation: “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matt. 19:14, NIV).

Based on Jesus’ words, we can make two claims: God reveals truth to children, and they belong in the kingdom of heaven. A question persists: why does he choose children?

We have all seen toddlers crumble under the slightest alteration in their lives. Susie doesn’t get that extra cookie, and all of a sudden, tears and kicks and sobs transform her soft, grinning face into the snarl of a ravaging beast. This very contrast–between the filtered version of ourselves and the wildness of our emotions–is one we learn to censor as we grow. Yet, could this honest, visceral frustration teach us, adults, something about ourselves and God?

Notice the times that Jesus rebukes and outsmarts the Pharisees in the Gospels. They refuse to see Jesus for who he is: the Son of God. Instead, they name him a fraud whose goal is the abolishment of their laws; those who see the world through a black-and-white lens can’t cope with so many hues of gray. In contrast, Christ is surprisingly merciful and loving to prostitutes and those struggling with “bodily” sin. I wonder if he saw their sexual sin as nearer to penitence than the prideful hearts of the Pharisees. In the same way, although children may be selfish and unyielding at times, they demonstrate the very human crux between control and disarray that we Pharisees try so hard to mask for the sake of following the rules and looking good doing it.

Further, as I spend time with children, I realize that they see the world with greater clarity than I, in my blindness of experience. I have pleaded with the Child of God, “Give me childlike faith,” but I wonder if I’m too far jaded to receive what I seek. In the trenches of academia, I fear my faith has become so “educatedly” sedated that my heart sleeps in response to the joy of the Gospel. I sit with a knowing grin rather than jump at the sight of the found toy, because I believe that a plastic cow doesn’t warrant a celebration. Perhaps I have forgotten that there is nothing greater than finding yourself found.

May we all seek childlike faith and, by the grace of God, leap for joy at the unwarranted grace and gaiety of it all.

I have a confession to make: I gave up chocolate for Lent. Well, I did, and then, one Sunday afternoon, I went to the Gryphon and tried six hot chocolates. I know what you’re thinking: “Six hot chocolates? I take it you’re sinning boldly!” I reasoned that Sundays are not included in the 40 days of Lent, and besides, if I drink the chocolate, it’s different, right?

The Gryphon prides itself on creating homemade, old-fashioned hot chocolates; no Swiss Miss packets will be found in the place. Instead, they mingle together cocoa powder, sugar, sea salt, and creams to create the perfectly smooth treat to combat the bitter cold. Along with the six flavors I tried, the café is debuting Gingerbread and Lemon flavors, all of which are sure to entertain the bored chocoholic.

Ancho: The name intrigued me (named for the pepper with the same name), so of course, I tried it first. Upon first whiff, it smells of cinnamon. Wimpy as I am with spicy flavors, I was relieved that they didn’t overdo it with this one; it is the perfect balance of spice and sweetness. A Gryphon employee revealed part of the flavor’s winning combination: chili peppers and prunes!

Classic: There is nothing regular about this one. The creamy, liquid chocolate beckoned me. The texture was heavenly in its smoothness: no bumps, no chocolate chunks, no separation, just creamy goodness. If you’re seeking a bit of sugar but afraid to commit to a bold flavor, you won’t be disappointed by this classic.

Mint: When the cup reached my lips, I was brought back to the snowy sledding breaks of my childhood, when I would dip a candy cane into a steaming cup of hot chocolate. In those days, I always found a giant puddle of syrupy mess at the bottom of my cup. Not so in this revival! The peppermint and chocolate coalesce just enough for richness and refreshment. The mint overpowers the chocolate, in a delightful way. Who says you can’t have minty fresh breath after a cup of hot chocolate anyway?

Rose: Did you actually believe that roses and chocolate only cohabitated on Valentine’s Day? Rose essence pairs with white chocolate in this one-of-a-kind beverage, topped with crushed pistachios. Before the first taste, I feared it would bring me back to the overpowering scent of Grandma’s flowery perfume. To the contrary, this unique marriage was by far my favorite; I kept coming back to it and sipped every last drop. The bouquet stays with you long after your last sip.

White: Imagine a melted Cookies and Cream Hershey’s bar, minus the chocolate cookie pieces, plus foamy, smooth milk. A spin off of the classic option, the White Hot Chocolate is tasteful enough to compete.

Earl Grey: Tea lovers, there is an option for you! As the cup approached my lips, I breathed the distinctive and familiar comfort of Earl Grey. It is both sweet and savory, like tea and scones all in one place.

During the weekend of Feb. 19 to 21, talented young pianists will venture onto Eastern’s campus for the inaugural Eastern University Piano Festival. Last year, the event began as a one-day Piano Day, and this year marks its passage into a two-day affair.

Piano faculty member, accomplished pianist, and Artistic Director for the event Young-Ah Tak explains, “My idea for this event was to share the gift of music.” She believes that the weekend will be “a great learning experience for the students, teachers, and any music lovers.” Although the joy of music making will serve as the focus of the weekend, there are also notably generous prizes for Saturday’s competition, given to middle- through high-school-aged performers. The grand prize is a full tuition, four-year scholarship to Eastern and a $500 cash prize.

Slated for Friday are auditions for prospective music majors, festival registration, and a campus tour for the young artists. A dinner with the music faculty will precede a must-see performance at 7:30 p.m. featuring music faculty, entitled, “Amadeus Under the Stars.” Audience members at the concert in McInnis Auditorium may also observe the wonders of the cosmos in the Julia Fowler Planetarium, included in the general admission ticket price of $10. Tak remarks, “This year, we are very fortunate: Jacobs Music is lending us their Steinway Grand [piano] for the Amadeus concert and competition.” Come Fri., Feb. 19 at 7:30 p.m. to hear talented performers playing a state-of-the-art instrument, and gaze at the Great Musician’s handiwork, too.

Saturday will be full of learning for music appreciators: lectures from faculty and guest artists, performances, and master classes pepper the day (all of which take place in McInnis Auditorium). Susan Starr, world-renowned concert pianist, will be giving a guest artist recital from 2-3 p.m., which promises to be a memorable milestone for our community. At 3 p.m., the competition commences! Ms. Tak wants all readers to know, “Observers come for free! They can come at any time to see the faculty and talented young students perform.”

For the schedule and other festival details, visit Eastern’s website or www.eastern.edu/pianofestival.

Known as the friendly sports enthusiast who has mastered the art of air drumming, Jon McNally, a music major studying percussion with a math minor, is a man of many gifts.

Although he dabbled in piano and violin as a youngster, Jon became a lover of drums through the hit videogame, Guitar Hero. When asked about his debut on the video game’s drum set, he enthusiastically chimes, “I kept breaking the drums!” His move from living room rock star to “real” drummer was quick: he joined the drum line upon his arrival to high school. Drum line turned into jazz band during his high school years, and he now serves as a percussionist in the St. Davids Orchestra Society and Eastern University Wind Ensemble.

Don’t be fooled by his résumé: Jon defies the stereotype of “tone-deaf percussionist.” A study by the American Psychological Association claims that only one in every 10,000 Americans has absolute perfect pitch (meaning that they can hum any specific note when prompted and it would exactly match its equivalent on the piano). Jon is the one in 10,000. When spurred to recall the moment when he realized his innate perfect pitch, he exclaims with a grin, “I don’t know; I – somehow – maybe it was in elementary school when I was taking piano lessons. I don’t know how it happened; I just discovered one day.”

His talents don’t stop in the practice room; he is also an accomplished mathematician. Elementary school teachers were the first to notice his extraordinary traits: “Around first or second grade, [teachers] found that I was accelerated in math, so they separated me from the rest of the class whenever I had math. Eventually, just before fifth grade… I took a test and they found that I was two levels higher than the rest of the class. So they put me in an accelerated math class.” His love for math grew with time and hard work, leading to an easy decision to declare a math minor at Eastern.

Percussion, the perfect marriage of math and music, was a logical choice for Jon. He admits that he was thinking differently when he first began drumming: “I think when I first took it up, it was because I thought it was less technical than guitar and bass.” But as he became more passionate about it, his tastes changed: “Into college, I began to listen less to the simpler stuff and more to progressive stuff, with better drumming and longer songs.” He especially enjoys listening to “Buddy Rich, who some say is the best drummer that ever lived.”

Jon is also a cheerleader of sorts within the music department. He says his peppy spirit comes from attending a lot of sporting events. After graduation, he plans to fuse his love of sports, music and math: “I’d like to play in a jazz or rock band, or get a job at WMMR [a rock music station]…otherwise I could go into baseball stuff.” One thing is certain: this jubilant percussionist will be spreading joy no matter where he goes.

Artists are not the same breed. I was reminded and grateful of this as I sat down with my old friend, Hope Stebbins, to discuss the upcoming dance concert. A dance enthusiast, her face shone as she described movements and themes from the dance pieces to me, a dance-incompetent musician.

Regardless of my lack of dance knowledge, I have never missed a biannual dance concert at Eastern. Why, you ask, would I choose to go to a dance concert if I claim ignorance to the process? Simply, dance, like all other art, draws people to it when it is well done. You don’t always have to know why it’s good to appreciate its beauty.

We start our conversation by discussing the overarching theme for the show. It is called “Regeneration,” which Hope describes as “circling around and looking back at something new.” Hope admits that due to the continuing work on the dances, she can only truly speak for those she is in, for she hasn’t fully experienced the others. However, with this general sketch of the dances, you, dear reader, will have no choice but to come and experience them for yourself.

Hannah Brumbach, a junior dance major, choreographed a dance for 4 people about, in Stebbins’ words, “the way that, through difficulty and hardship, hope remains.” Jordan Bonney will perform a tap dance solo. Katie Green and Megan Schultz will do a Graham-style duet (named for its originator, pioneer of modern dance Martha Graham), which Hope explains as “built off of movement styles,” particularly, “contraction and release.” Allison Burden choreographed a group dance, which will make its debut at the concert. Eastern also welcomes a piece by guest choreographer Melissa Chisena.

Hope also choreographed her very own work entitled “The old story has begun…” which she passionately describes as “about living in your life: it seems relatively simple and ordinary, but you can look at it and see the extraordinary within it.” The inspiration for her theme was a quote of Willa Cather’s novel, O Pioneers: “Isn’t it queer: there are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before.”

As for the process behind the choreography, Hope explains that she combined thematic ideas and motifs to create her masterpiece. The themes of moving outside the self and “feeling trapped in the ordinary” were her starting ideas. From there, she added motifs: growing leg movements and a “box” formed by placing her hands on either side of your body.

Hope will also join a group of 9 dancers to perform a piece choreographed by dance professor Stephen Welsh. She remarks it is “about seeing the world as more expansive than you had seen it before; looking at the world in different ways, and new paths of life.” Hope describes the cosmic symbolism as most evident in the “floor patterns that expand and contract.” The effort, like many dance projects prior to it, is a combining of vision, in which the choreographer allows the dancers to have input into the movements and feel of the piece.

When urged to remark about how she has grown through this semester’s effort, Hope thoughtfully responds that her work as an artist largely transfers to her work as a person: “I grow to appreciate the difficulty in the process and learn to work through challenges in choreography…working even when I’m tired.” She sees profound parallelism between dance and life, naming the need to “push through and rely on other people in the dance, to feed off of their energy.” We end our conversation with the impetus for the average student to come to the show. Hope exclaims, “It’s going to be a good show, and IT’S NOT TOO LONG!” As many of us grieve the transitions of Eastern University, we owe it to the dance department to support their work. So, take a break from your studies to enjoy “Regeneration”: Fri., Dec. 4 and Sat., Dec. 5 at 8 pm and Sun., Dec. 6 at 3 pm.

On the evening of Nov. 10, droves of interested intellectuals trudged through the persistent rain to the Warner Library atrium, where Dr. RJ Snell presented a lecture titled “Rebuilding the City Upon a Hill,” commemorating the fifth anniversary of the Agora Institute for Civic Virtue and the Common Good. The Agora Institute was formed in 2011 under the leadership of Dr. Snell, a professor of philosophy at Eastern. Its website states, “We are committed to a dialogical pluralism that seeks to engage both religious and secular voices from various traditions on the nature of the good life and the good society.” Lectures, conferences, a weekly reading group, an academic journal (Adorans), and a Center for Orthodox Thought and Culture have been formed to aid in the fulfillment of that vision.

Dr. Snell’s lecture served as a metaphor for Agora’s past and future work. Its title originates from Puritan leader John Winthrop’s statement to Puritan settlers: “We must be a city upon a hill.” Dr. Snell explained the reason for our failure to be such a light with Pope John Paul II’s words: “Modern culture is undergoing a crisis.” This crisis is deeply rooted; Dr. Snell proposed that it stems from our choice to “exchange truth about the human being for mastery.”

Dr. Snell pointed to three cities from which we can learn to rediscover this truth: Jerusalem, Athens, and Rome. In Jerusalem, we learn reverence, for on Mount Sinai, the Lord reveals to us our own nature; in Athens, we learn wonder, for there philosophy is a way of life- mystery, questions, and reason govern their thought; in Rome, we learn about the nature of God through the establishment of His church. Because “each civilization dies by indifference to the values dependent to it,” we are redeemed as persons when our culture is redeemed. He terms this “rebuilding” process “cultural dignity,” a rediscovery of our culture’s doctrinal past.

At the core of Agora’s work is a commitment to be, in John Courtney Murray’s words, “locked together in argument.” Dr. Snell put this idea into practice through a period of dialogue after his lecture, in which he engaged with those who posited questions, not just as serious conversation partners, but also as friends.

“It takes an army,” I quip to myself as I ease open the double doors of the bustling auditorium. The directors, playwright, lyricist, and stage managers bumble around in preparation for the first run-through of “Rise,” an original musical, written and performed by members of the Eastern community. The actors writhe and yawn; they stretch like yogis and “monkey dance” across the stage while singing rising major arpeggios. There is a palpable anticipation behind it all, like the final preparations of a house right before an old friend comes to visit.

The show’s gregarious director, Professor Jenny Tibbels, calls a huddle, and the cohort gathers to pray. She asks the Lord to remind us of the vocational nature of art; in a world where unrest, injustice, and violence seem to reign, we must declare that love ultimately prevails.

As she prays, I recall the trailer for the musical, in which Professor Tibbels describes its vision. During a spiritual direction meeting, Tibbels’ mentor recounted the story of the road to Emmaus from Luke 24. The risen Christ walked alongside men on their journey to Emmaus, discussing the events of his own crucifixion with them. Mysteriously, they only recognized him as God upon the breaking of bread. “Rise” conveys a similar Eucharistic truth: Jesus walks with us in our ignorance. If we keep our eyes and hearts open, we may realize that he’s been there the entire journey, sustaining us with himself.

Rachel Sparks plays Rise, the estranged sister of Sophia (Casey McGinty). Sparks returns to her California hometown after her father’s death to sell his property, which is also Sophia’s home. A hard-hitting campaign manager, Rise sees the sale as nothing more than another business deal, while Sophia believes that no price tag justifies the loss of her home.

The story juxtaposes the busy individualism of New York City against the slow communal nature of the Californian country. As the sisters reconnect, they find that growth lies in the tension between upheaval and “plantedness.” The climactic song between them, “If You Only Knew,” is a heart-wrenching cry for understanding, which will resonate with anyone who has dealt with pain from those she loves most.

Despite its heavy moments, this musical will also dare to make you smile. Neighbors break out in dance as they cook dinner together, singing snappy Spanish tunes. Derek, the businessman involved in property sales, is witty and unbending, providing comic relief. Camden, the man that inspires affection for his kind heart and deep thoughts, helps a city girl regain her love for natural beauty.

Viewers will find the story both compelling and relatable through its themes of reconciliation, community, and home. Although the tendency with an original Christian musical could be over-simplifying darkness or complexity in favor of a “Jesus-y” answer, this show is a far cry from your middle school Christmas pageant. “Rise” will delight you because it is unyieldingly true.

It takes an army, so come and see “Rise,” (FREE with your Eastern ID) showing Thurs., Nov. 12 through Sat., Nov. 14 at 8 p.m. and Sun., Nov. 15 at 3 p.m. in McInnis Auditorium.

Professor Steven Ford’s Journey to Eastern

“Many [people] in academics want to go professional, but can’t because of life circumstances. I had the opportunity to do it the other way around.” Steven Ford smiles to himself, recalling the divine peculiarity of his vocation.

A second-year music faculty member, Professor Ford is beloved by students for his humility, wisdom, and experience. His accomplishments preceded his teaching post, as the whispered buzz of his awards and contributions to music (2 Grammies, 12 Grammy nominations, 5 Dove Awards, and 10 Stellar Awards) spread quickly amongst the musicians of the tightly knit department.

A producer, composer, arranger, and performer, he spent over 25 years in the music business before arriving at Eastern University as a student. After graduating in 2013, he began both his intensive graduate work at The Vermont College of Fine Arts and his inaugural professorial season at Eastern, alongside his various musical projects. Next semester, he will pioneer a new course, entitled Contemporary Music Production.

Mr. Ford laughs as he recounts his first musical memory: “My mother called to beg the music teacher at my elementary school: ‘Don’t let him bring another musical instrument home.’” His passion was also his gift; he was leading the choirs of his father’s church as the Minister of Music by the prodigious age of 9. Word quickly spread throughout the community of “this little guy that played the piano and the Hammond B3 organ,” and soon enough Mr. Ford was performing for every school function.

He intended to pursue a career in electronics as a young adult, but he found a providential fusion of electronics and music when his childhood musical career drew gospel bigwigs to call him for studio work. Richard Smallwood (gospel music’s premier classical artist) and Marvin Winans (lead singer of the Winans Brothers and older brother of gospel stars BeBe and CeCe Winans) approached him with concurrent jobs as their musical directors, which led him to put his planned collegiate semester at Temple University on hold. After returning from his hiatus from formal education, he found that time in the classroom enriched his experience: “my education was my investment into my gift, and now it’s reaping dividends.”

Even as it seems that recognition for artistic excellence would lend itself to arrogance, Mr. Ford refuses to allow the awards to define him: “I never want to come off like I’m way up here and everyone else is down here,” he explains with his hands outstretched. “Humility is realizing that everyone isn’t afforded the opportunity to have this journey. We work hard to get to this level of our professional and educational life. With that said, I can be proud without being arrogant.”

With credentials that highlight his involvement in the gospel industry as well as Broadway shows, network holiday specials, and a spectrum of other projects, Mr. Ford sees his work as “a witnessing tool in places where people least expect it.” His godly character and musical excellence set him apart from his peers, granting him the opportunity to “not just mentor, but be a father figure to many.”

He finishes our conversation with his mantra: “I want to bring fame to His name, and never bring shame to His name.” May it be so, glory to God.