Today’s postlude is a spicy number by Edward Bairstow, that I am playing for the first time. While I’ve enjoyed learning this piece, it has given me fits! Bairstow was an English organist, conductor, and composer who spent most of his career at York Minster from 1913 until his death in 1946. Since I’ve been here at St. Andrew’s, we have his psalm settings, but ashamedly none of his anthems.

Have you ever gotten into something that at first glance seems easy, but then you realize it’s much more involved? When I go for ease, I often get myself into difficulty. When I heard this piece on a recording, I thought it sounded easy. The key of C is ostensibly the “easiest” key in which to play, and going for a quick learn, I thought, “I can whip this up.” Instead, its deceptive ease whipped me up into a fricative frenzy of frustration!

It soon became obvious that this “easy” piece was fraught with devilish traps meant to dial back my smugness. It showed its fangs on every page. There are some measures affixed with skull and crossbones warnings that read, “All who dare pass through this measure – BEWARE!” These snarly passages lure you into what appears like a pattern. Fingers love patterns, but then Bairstow changes a single note in the so-called pattern and moves the harmony into an alien harmonic region that the fingers cannot foresee, then crash and burn. Over the last few weeks of my practicing, I might have spoken one or two expletives in the church. Mea culpa!

As a person, Bairstow was notorious for his abruptness. He was not known for endearing himself to others. He was once asked if he would ever migrate to the U.S. like his predecessor at York Minster, T. Tertius Noble. He replied, “I’d rather go to the devil.” How befitting. I suspect Bairstow purposely made this piece tricky. One of his former students and biographer said that he never hit wrong notes. So, I conclude that not only did he take delight in making others suffer through writing tricky music, but he also made a pact with the devil to play without blemish.

The brain loves the path of least resistance, but the communion anthem reminds us of a spiritual truth, “lead me in a plain path,” not towards the easy exit. The plain path sometimes appears like the path of least resistance, but it’s always the path we need for growth. Difficulty hides in the presumption of ease, like when I painted my bathroom this summer. A “simple” can of paint turned into all new fixtures, some new wainscoting, and a very expensive plumber. $50 became more, and it hurts to have to tell you how much more. But those financial difficulties make you realize you cannot cling to money or the idea that things will always be easy.

I’m happy I gave this piece a go, even though I still think Bairstow is a scallywag who deserves the four-letter words I hurled at him! I always try to avoid what looks hard, but avoiding growth is impossible. God outsmarts the lazy, those who think they’re playing it safe, and those who get cozy with the status quo. There are bigger plans, and we can’t be cowards forever. If you turn onto what appears to be Easy Street, and you realize it’s Nightmare on Elm Street, keep going. Beyond the snarly curves, the skull and crossbones, and the devil, you’ll find God’s reward for having been so brave and for having grown so much. I’m sure God will also forgive you for the expletives. Soli Deo Gloria!