“Don’t just believe everything you read girls,
question everything.”

She emphasised that word: ‘EVERYTHING’. 

The class was quiet.

And I’ve since questioned why her words stayed with me.

Ms T. was my English teacher in my senior VCE high school years.  She was Greek-Australian with frizzy long hair, a zest for life, a hearty laugh, and she would always wear vests with long, colourful, hippie-like skirts. To the introverted me she always seemed a bit intense.  If she was teaching and saying things like this today – and no doubt other things I now cannot recall – she would most likely be cancelled.

Every teacher had their idiosyncrasies, expectations, and temperaments, but English class with Ms T. always challenged me in so many ways as a studious and quiet student.  I loved English, and although I was a bit terrified of her, there was something about her classes which I enjoyed.  I could expect the unexpected and it was never boring.  At times it felt a bit rebellious and she actually made us think about issues like maturing people should.

Why did her advice that day rise above all of the other conversations and lessons I had with my other high school teachers? Why is it seared into my memory to such an extent that I can still see the determined expression on her face and the frown on her forehead when she said it?

I always wonder what happened to Ms T. and once tried to look her up on social media without success.  I would not be surprised if she is not on social media as she always seemed different to all of the other teachers, like the radical, bohemian, and ever-questioning teachers in some well-known movies. Turns out I grew up to have a little of Ms T. in me…

That sentence of hers has often haunted me but never more so as in these last two years. The advice of a single teacher can make a huge difference in a young person’s life, especially a strong female teacher in an all-girls high school.

Reminiscing, I believe her words came during a lesson about what we read in the newspapers, and in the media generally, and dissecting fact from fiction. Her challenge to us was to question, question, and question.  That is critical thinking.  Ms T.’s lessons centred on the real world, justice, and truth.  Emerging from her English classes my brain would always be ticking because they were so deep, serious, and radical; it was as if we students were getting ready to battle the world.  Ironically, having now attended several freedom rallies in Melbourne, perhaps this is what has triggered my memories of her words.

What would Ms T. say about life in 2021?  Has she has mellowed and blended with the groupthink and psychosis we are witnessing in our society, or did she preserve that spunk and spirit which seemed to bounce off the classroom walls?  Either way, it would be her choice and she would still be Ms T., my old English teacher.

And that is the point.

Freedom. Choice.

Two words which may soon end up being redefined or altogether scrubbed from our vocabulary.

Now we are now being told – forced – to do certain things.

So today is Christmas Eve.  By now my folder would be full of sheet music ready for the Midnight and Christmas morning Masses, rehearsals would be done and dusted, I would be running through practice sessions at home, work on perfecting descants, traversing and smoothing out the highest and most exhilaratingly beautiful notes, preparing to cantor the psalms, selecting something appropriate to wear, and would generally be feeling excited and honoured to once again use my voice to sing for the sacred liturgy at such a holy time of year.

But now I am not permitted to serve.

Did I commit a crime?

Am I a threat to others?

Throughout my twenty-one years of being a choir member and cantor I have only been ill and therefore absent a handful of times, praise God. I have been blessed with mostly good health and have stayed that way.  In 2020 and 2021 I was not sick at all.  Not once.  When emerging from five out of six rounds of lockdown and was able to return to Mass I, like many others, observed all of the rules, washed my hands regularly, sanitised until I could even taste sanitiser on the Eucharist (not a good experience), sang with my mask on (not easy), kept my distance from people (easily done when kept apart in the musicians’ space), sanitised microphone cords, etc. This was going above and beyond what was ‘normal’.

This year however, most of the very people who are also supposed to be God’s servants, and the servants of the people – politicians, bureaucrats, bishops, religious, priests, including priests in my own parish – have deemed me and many others to be unclean and unfit to enter God’s house. None of them have been at my local church for as long as I have or, in the case of the politicians, have even stepped inside my church.  This is the church where I was baptised as a baby, grew up, and have been going to Mass my entire life.  As a local parishioner I decided I wanted to give back and sing for God in my own church because that is the gift He gave me. 

I am now told that if I do not show proof of injecting a foreign, experimental substance into my body to make other people feel ‘safe’, then I can no longer serve.  Because my decisions do not align with theirs, I am now supposedly a danger to society, a pariah, and immediately disqualified to assist with the liturgy in God’s house.

Clergy and other religious are appointed to a parish for a certain time and then move on.  I have seen so many of them come and go.  Their power is lent to them by God to be humble servants of the flock, dedicated to their responsibilities and treating others as Christ would.  But instead, many of them have misused their vocations and gifts during this pandemic, kept themselves ‘safe’ and cocooned, and did not venture out to the people who were wounded, isolated, and are still being beaten down. 

Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst.  But I said to you that you have seen me and yet do not believe. All that the Father gives me will come to me; and him who comes to me I will not cast out.’
– John 6:35-37

While I am now permitted to attend church (until 12 January 2022, then who knows), the insanity of the ‘rules’ say that I can only sing in the pews, surrounded by the public sitting close to me (while I would normally be in a more spacious and supposedly more ‘Covid-safe’ choir spot with the same people each week), while also bearing the humiliation and stares of people who know me and would see that I am banned from my service.

Why? In my state the Covid-19 vaccine is mandatory for volunteers and paid employees in all organisations including places of worship. While various Australian jurisdictions have their own orders and settings which may be more or less draconian, in Victoria (Australia) there is no relenting or mercy.  In our churches it is not permissible to have an alternative view nor kosher to respect and stand by your faithful, local parishioners.  In fact it’s often the stayers in a parish who may be scorned because, as one priest I knew once said: “they are the same old faces”. 

David said to Gad, ‘I am in deep distress. Let us fall into the hands of the Lord, for his mercy is great; but do not let me fall into human hands.’ – 2 Samuel 24:14

I have seen so many people on social media glibly say: get over it, you made your choice, you bear the consequences.  It’s true, but a critical mind is not afraid to examine the consequence of those consequences.  Every decision we make has repercussions and each of us will be judged on those by God alone.  But what if those consequences are disproportionate and established by people in positions of power with nefarious intentions aimed to penalise, dehumanize, degrade, and crush the lives of others? 

I am blessed to have my daily bread, a roof over my head, and other basic essentials to get by.  I can still live without a choir and the other losses I have incurred so far, but so many fare far worse.  Jobs, incomes, accommodation, family, friends, the ability to fruitfully participate in society and build a decent life have disappeared for a proportion of society.  Many are on the brink of suicide or have already taken their own lives. 

The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I don’t need you!’ And the head cannot say to the feet, ‘I don’t need you!’ On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.
– 1 Corinthians 12:21-27

Christmas and New Year festivities will see families purposefully exclude their own flesh and blood and friends who have chosen not to take the vaccine for whatever reason. One woman I spoke to said that her in-laws will put her and her husband out in the garage outdoors because they are unvaccinated. Like dogs.  Better than out on the street, one might say.  The lesser of two evils.

The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
– Matthew 25:40, 45

The design, versatility, capability, and nuances of the voice fascinate me. Every person’s voice is God-given and distinctive and – with training, experience, exercise, and care – is capable of beauty. The joy of singing is the ability to express oneself – music is, after all, the language of the soul.  So what if the world was all told that we can only sing in Spanish at all times and no other language is permitted? As lovely as the Spanish language is, it would be pretty boring, not to mention difficult for non-Spanish speakers, right? God has given us the ability – the free will – to do and be many things as long as we abide by His commands. He never coerces or forces us. The vocal cords also need to be free from constriction, obstruction, and force, otherwise we choke and sound like a strangled cat.

I know that a choir cannot make meaningful beautiful music if everyone is singing in monotone from the same hymn sheet.  It’s ugly.  There is no life or colour.  Are we living the song of our lives in ways that follows God’s commands and allows our hearts and consciences to freely pursue His will? 

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.
– John 10:10

“Question everything, girls.”

Question everything.

Don’t just automatically believe everything you read.

Sing your part – don’t just read off the same hymn sheet and the same part over and over.

Perhaps Ms T. was angry but she was passionate and stood for her convictions. Maybe she was also warning us about the reality of our future. 

Image Credit: pixabay.com