Sitting in a Salisbury Pub today, some of us were lamenting how difficult it is to get comfortable on an overseas flight in a regular cabin seat. You stretch your legs and wiggle your toes in the cramped space under the seat in front of you. You turn one way, then the other, to give your aching back a little relief. Nothing seems to work for long.

It feels so good to file out into the terminal at your destination and give your aching back a good stretch. That’s just it, about a backbone. You can’t see it. You hardly think about it unless it’s ailing. But you can’t do without it.

That is how I think about Todd Wilson, the organist traveling with the St. Paul’s Choir. Few of us can see him during Evensong or the Eucharist, but without his firm, confident cadences, the whole musical experience would sag.

I have some acquaintance with the talented and friendly Todd. He was invited to perform an anniversary concert for the Karl Wilhelm organ (Mont-St.-Hilaire, Quebec, Opus 125) built in 1992, a fabulous instrument which graces the sanctuary of St. Michael’s in the Hills, Toledo. It was during the 20-year span my wife and I served as co-Rectors there.

Todd was formerly the Director of Music at Trinity Cathedral in Cleveland and head of the organ department at the Cleveland Institute of Music. He has been on staff at Canterbury Cathedral and the Cathedral of the Incarnation on Long Island. Though he is retired, Todd is still the curator of the Skinner organ at Cleveland’s Severance Hall and is renowned as a performing and recording artist. He is an artist-in-residence at St. Paul’s, Cleveland Heights, and we are blessed to have him on this tour.

At Bath Abbey, Todd climbed a circular staircase to the Organ loft. Here at Salisbury, he is a floor above the choir, invisible to them. From this perch, Todd casts a contemplative spell over the assembling congregation with his fine preludes. Then, he effortlessly shifts gears and accompanies the Gospel canticles, the choir anthems, and hymns. Finally, he sends us out with a grand postlude.

A choir member told me how confident she feels when Todd is on the bench. If the priest unexpectedly skips or omits part of the service, Todd is unflappable. He stays on course and delivers what is needed in the moment. He is the musical backbone, supporting the choir and congregation in worship. He’s out of sight—literally!

Special mention should also be given to the friendly and talented Yuri McElliott, the organist at St. Christopher’s, Gates Mills, Ohio. Yuri ascends with Todd to the ethereal regions to turn pages for him. She deserves credit for braving vertigo and adapting to tight spaces to do her job. As proof, she shared with me some photos of Todd at work “upstairs,” connected to Kevin Jones and the choir by closed circuit TV.

Arrival at Salisbury

The bus pulled up at our Bath hotel at 8:30 a.m. Shortly after 9 a.m, we were winding through the hilly Wiltshire countryside, mostly on narrow two-lane roads. We crawled into Salisbury an hour or so later, behind heavy traffic. Soon, we were lugging our bags into the White Heart Hotel, where we left them in a safe spot.

Then, Tom led us the short distance through a gate and into the “close,” the walled-off area marking the Cathedral’s property. Along the way, we passed the house where G. F. Handel wrote most of the Messiah and a plaque marking three Protestant reformers who were burned in 1556 during the reign of “Bloody Mary” (as she is known).

The first glance of the Cathedral as a whole is breathtaking. Its ornate, Early English Gothic design looks serene, surrounded by its meadowlands. Unlike most cathedrals built over hundreds of years, with architectural fashions always changing, Salisbury was finished in just 38 years. It is artistically “at unity with itself” (Ps. 122:3).

Much more needs to be said about the Cathedral. For now, it is enough to say that our Cleveland community enjoyed strolling around inside, discovering its charms on our own, or taking a formal tour. Some prayed and lit candles inside chapels while others enjoyed the super cafe where the food is good and the profits go to the Cathedral.

Evensong was a delight to the senses. The choir was seated in the middle of the quire area and their faces were illuminated by flickering candles fastened to the stalls. Once again, the choir impressed by introducing new settings of the Responses (Rose), the Gospel canticles (Howells), and a lush Latin anthem, Evening Hymn (Gardiner).

Since it was the eve of St. Mary Magdalene Day, the congregation joined the choir in singing the jaunty Lord of the Dance. And, once again, the psalm was a musical standout. Psalm 139 expresses everything from tender devotion to fury and rage. The scope of these emotions was captured, with striking dynamic variations and the trading off of verses among choir sections.

I want to add that the priest (who is Canon Precentor) has a precise and lyrical tone. Her voice complemented the choir beautifully. And the priest (who was the liturgist) led us deeply into prayer, based on the themes of the day’s Biblical texts.

For me, the whole Evensong experience met my simple two-way hope for worship:

1. Is it as beautiful and thoughtful as we can make it?
2. Did it seem to open a door through which God could walk to meet us?

For me, this Evensong definitely did this. We walked into the chilly evening air and dispersed in peace, for dinner and maybe a pint. Until next time, be well!

Greg+