“We’re looking for individuals willing to make a joyful noise ” reads the email written by a pastor in Baltimore. “…Here are a few more details and a list of songs for our 10th annual Washington Mennonite Chorus on December 15th.”
Wonder if we’re going to sing the song that goes “There is no peace on earth …For hate is strong and mocks the song, Of peace on earth, good will to men”.
But the line about anyone “willing to make a joyful noise” is enough for me, and so Sunday evening, after spending the day in Maryland, my friend Judith and I head for the heart of Washington D.C. Judith navigates, I drive, and we squeeze our way through the bumper-to-bumper four-lane wide traffic on the Beltway leading into the capitol city.
“Parking is free on Sundays. Let’s try one of the side streets, ” I say to Judith as we get closer to the Ellipse where the choir will be singing. I hope there’s no need for parallel parking.
We find a nice wide space in front of the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) building. After parking, we cross 17th street, and join the crowds that have come to see to the National Christmas Tree and the splendor of Washington at Christmastime.
Judith, who sang with the choir last year, points out the warming tent near the Christmas Tree, “That’s where we go.” We hurry to the tent and the guard nods and lets us through the gate. Inside, most of the other singers are already practicing the Christmas carols we’ll be singing on stage in a few minutes.
I find my place with the other sopranos. The choir is a nice sized group of families and youth from Washington and nearby churches in Maryland, plus a few Pennsylvanians like us. We run through some of the songs, and then it’s our turn to go out and stand on the risers on the outdoor stage.
The evening is chilly and dark. From our spot on the Ellipse, we can see the Washington Monument rising on the other side of Constitution Avenue.
When we start singing, the empty seats in front of the stage start filling up. Several people record us with their phones.
Our choir sings mostly traditional Christmas carols. Happily, some folks can do more than make a joyful noise. Three men sing solos for “We Three Kings” and the children and teenagers sing “The Coventry Carol”, an English carol dating from the 16th century.
The crowd claps after every song, and soon our allocated half-hour is past. We say good-bye to our friends from Maryland. Most of them are probably going straight home, but since Judith and I don’t come to Washington often, we decide to spend some time walking around before leaving.
After we look at the National Christmas Tree, which is surrounded by smaller trees representing each of the fifty states, I suggest we go see the White House. I’ve been to Washington D.C. several times, but I usually don’t see the White House, and I’ve never been here at night.
It’s about 8:30 p.m. and there’s not too many people around as we walk up 17th street. We meet three young guys coming towards us, and one bobs his head at Judith and says, “Ava Maria”. Apparently, the long dark dresses we were supposed to wear to sing have gotten us mistaken for nuns.
Judith smiles and says, “Merry Christmas!”
When we get to Pennsylvania Avenue, we aren’t sure where to go next. There’s barriers on the road blocking traffic, but what do the big red X’s mean for pedestrians?
“We don’t see anyone else walking in there,” cautions Judith, as we peer down the gloomy street leading to the White House.
“I think we’d be okay,” I say. “But let’s not take any chances. We’ll ask the officer we saw walking around back there if we can walk down Pennsylvania Avenue.”
“I guess,” says Judith. “But you have to do the talking.”
Judith is a pediatric emergency nurse who goes skiing and she thinks this is scary? I’ll gladly be the brave person.
We walk back and I ask the officer, who is now lurking behind a pillar, about walking on Pennsylvania Avenue. “Sure, you can go down there,” he says. His uniform reads “Secret Service”.
Soon we’re taking pictures of the brightly lit White House, decked out with greens for Christmas. There’s two fences between us and the president’s home. The wide space between the fences is patrolled by more Secret Service agents, and there’s several parked police cars.
Small groups of tourists wander past, chatting and snapping photos. There’s a tour guide giving a Capitol Ghost Tour. I overhear snatches about the ghost of Mrs. John Adams.
It’s a peaceful winter evening, and no observer would guess there’s a battle on to unseat our national leader right now.
“Well, we’ve got a long way home,” I say, and Judith and I walk back to my car parked in front of the DAR building, stopping a few times to take photos. Judith is especially pleased when I take a picture of her with a lion statue.
I mostly take photos of buildings. One of my favorite parts of visiting D.C. is seeing the architecture, even if I always think of the verses from Mark 13, “‘Look, Teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!’ ‘Do you see all these great buildings?” replied Jesus. “’Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.'”
We leave the DMV and head north to Lancaster. On the road, Judith tells funny stories about her many adventures— like the time she went canoeing in the Everglades and they had to push their canoes through knee-deep mud because the guide miscalculated the tides. They hoped they wouldn’t see alligators or snakes, “because we weren’t going anywhere fast.” Judith was a great friend to travel with.
I don’t know if I’ll go back to Washington D.C. next Christmas, or who our president will be by then. But there’s something beautiful happening despite the turmoil of the ages when little children sing Christmas carols written more than four hundred years ago, and the light of Christ shines on.
Then rang the bells more loud and deep:
God is not dead, nor does he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807–1882.
Merry Christmas! ~ Susan
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