Robert Armstead, bass-baritone
Melinda Coffey Armstead, piano & keyboard
Prelude to Worship
Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, Chorale from Cantata 147 . . . J. S. Bach (1685-1750) arr. for piano by Myra Hess
Widmung (Dedication) . . . Friedrich Rückert/Robert Schumann (1810-1856) English translation:
You my soul, you my heart, you my bliss, O you my pain,
You the world in which I live; you my heaven, in which I float,
O you my grave, into which I eternally cast my grief.
You are rest, you are peace, you are bestowed upon me from heaven. That you love me gives me my worth; your gaze transfigures me;
You raise me lovingly above myself, my good spirit, my better self!
Irish Blessing . . . Katie Moran Bart
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
The rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
What can you say about Ken Feske without going overboard? You can tell the truth, that his generosity is so large its boundaries are out of sight. You saw him in the corridors of CHOMP (pre-pandemic), visiting those in pain. Listen to him tell a joke, see him give it away in advance by the gleam in his eye, even so laugh because it’s actually funny. Listen to him preach and derive from it something to think about, something personal, something that springs from unpretentious honesty, to use in your own life. You can engage him at eye level, because he never looks down from a lofty perch. He is a Fine Fella, he is a Mensch, and it is a source of sorrow that he is moving away to Washington state. But like the Cheshire Cat, his smile will remain.
There is a story about a man who moves to Seattle but returns within a year, explaining that living there is like being married to a brilliant, beautiful, loving woman who always has a cold. One can hope.