One of the facts of life about being a pastor is that every day holds

the possibility of something different from the day before. While certain

things may be expected, one cannot count on the day being routine.

For example, several weeks ago, a gentleman named Mike Midas contacted

our office and requested that I join a group of people to sing on the

Square in downtown Newnan.

While there are endless activities than ministers can become involved

with, I have learned over the years to say "no" to most of

them. There was a time when I agreed to every request to become part

of a board, or ministry, or worthy charity, which is why I now have

a ten-page resume. These days, I usually ask myself a few questions:

- What's the point? There has to be a worthwhile result than

justifies my time. A couple of hours for this advisory board, another

few hours for this charity, and pretty soon, I am out of hours.

- Is this something that I, myself, ought to become involved

in? For example, there are a lot of "interdenominational" gatherings

going on. These are mostly good things, but is there a reason I personally

need to jump in? I do attend a weekly pastor's breakfast when I can

but I have found most other meetings can do just fine without me.

- Does this help my church and congregation? My people are my

first priority and if I am unduly distracted, I will probably need

to pass on the invitation.

But the invitation from Mr. Midas intrigued me. The group that would

be signing on the Square as a part of the "Box Lunch Series" was

a group from Georgian Place called the Georgian Mixed Ensemble. The

average age of the 13 singers was 88. The theme was to be a salute

to "the Greatest Generation," a reference to the generation

that fought and won the Second World War. After delaying my answer

for a week or so, I decided that I would accept the invitation.

I reported to the East Court Square in downtown Newnan at 11:45 a.m.

on the Wednesday appointed and met Mr. Midas, a very energetic, personable

man who led the group. He was also an excellent musician and played

the keyboard as he directed the singers. I met each the singers, who

had a collective age of well over 1,000 years, and felt warmly welcomed.

I met a man who landed with the invasion forces on D-day and who fought

his way all the way to Germany. I met a lady who was from Port St.

Joe, Fla., where my wife and I vacation each year. One after the other,

I heard brief stories from each of the singers about where they were

from, what they had done, and who had relatives who had come to hear

them sing.

Other people joined along to sing, including another pastor, a few

members of the singer's families, several children, and even a couple

of young U. S. Marines in full uniform. Several members of the Knights

of Columbus from St. Mary Magdalene were on hand to assist as needed.

A small crowd gathered and the hour-long program began. The first songs

we sang brought a lump to my throat. They were the "old songs," as

Mr. Midas said. Songs like "How Much is that Doggie in the Window," and

other songs that my Dad used to sing to me while I was a small child.

He would have been 77 if he had lived. Mom died last year. She would

have been 78. I was singing with their generation and hearing the songs

they sang when they held me and tried to get me to take a nap. How

I missed hearing their voices!�I had to wipe away a few tears.

We sang some songs of World War II, songs that my parents would have

known and sung as teenagers. We sang a tribute to the Armed Forces

me to stand next to the two young Marines as we sang "The Marine

Corps Hymn," also known as "From the Halls of Montezuma." I

was honored to stand next to them. Oddly, they seemed just as honored

to sing this proud hymn with an old Jarhead.

The program ended with the singing of several religious songs, which

all of the members of the Georgian Mixed Ensemble seemed to know by

heart. The group's performance was dedicated to Marguerite Brock, a

member of the ensemble, and the group's biggest advocate for singing

publicly. Mrs. Brock died this year at 79. Her daughter was in the

audience. When a young Cub Scout sang the song that was always sung

did, too, and I never even met Mrs. Brock.

I almost didn't accept the invitation to sing with the group. It really

didn't fit all of my guidelines; yet, I "felt" as though

I should. I'm glad I did. I had the opportunity to meet some wonderful

people, got reacquainted with songs that I hadn't heard in decades,

and, in a very meaningful and mysterious way, connected with my Mom

and Dad. These were their songs, this was their generation. I thought

I was doing the Georgian Mixed Ensemble a favor by joining them on

the Square. I was wrong. I was the one who came away blessed. God bless

the men and women of The Greatest Generation!

[Father David Epps is Rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal

Church, which meets at 8 a.m. and 10 a.m. Sundays at 4881 E. Hwy 34.

He may be contacted at 770-252-2428, at [email protected].]

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