Stage fright

Posted on by Dan Brown

2683f7c249f8121df148b097a13c8278Why stand trembling in the wings……they are mere humans?

One of the churches I attended as a child was extremely austere. On a Sunday morning I would sit there in the silence on benches that only a Christian would have designed. They had a back rest and years of shiny lacquer that made for good sliding in a polyester suit after the service, but during the service they were a special kind of torture.

I would scrutinise every corner of that building in the interminably long 90 minutes that we were trapped in there. The gloriously shiny wood of the roof trusses, the pigeons pooping and breeding on the sky light windows, the glossy pulpit and bare floorboards. I would imagine myself climbing up and sitting with dangling legs like Peter Pan on the trusses, observing the proceedings from on high.

The people were are study in themselves.

My cousins in the row opposite would try their utmost to make us laugh, if they succeeded they would receive an instant silent death blow from their mother. She is kindness personified, but as a mother she was ruthless. Then there was the old guy who prayed with his eyes open, long lumbering jumbo jet prayers as he watched all around at who was not listening. Usually me.

It wasn’t an unpleasant time, the people were very kind to us and although sterile and strict beyond belief, once a year it all loosened off. By that I don’t mean we had a party and danced or anything, but there was a society evening on the 31st of December where a large percentage of the congregation would sing, dance or show their operation. Two of those are not true!

There would be the obligatory poems and recitals, groups of wobbly ladies would suddenly come to life and sing like the chorus of Madamé Butterfly. Of course, there were the screeching endurance tests of those who thought that they could sing but never should. There was the cutesy pie toddler who had learned a four line verse and managed to draw oohs and ahs with her sheer cuteness.

Then there was me.

I was paired with the town pest to sing a 6 verse hymn in acappella. We could barely tolerate each other at the best of times, but someone thought it a great idea that we duet in front of the entire church. The tortuous weeks of practice leading up to it were just horrendous, attaching my delicate parts to a battery would not have been much worse!

On the night it all went without a problem, the applause was rapturous and the congratulations after were copiously poured out.

I was a painfully shy person when it came to audiences and that was my first forced experience. Years later I returned to that church as the preacher, I was confident and fluid, there were no nerves whatsoever and I was in my element.

William Shakespeare famously wrote:

All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts

There is a great truth to this, the problem for most is that they never recognise the great part which they are playing. We sit there afraid of many things and never get into the part we are occupying.

Last week I was being bombarded with the lie that I was not necessary and would be better out of the way. Thankfully those lies did not penetrate too deeply.

The opportunities that come our way are not always good for us, but we must take chances if we are ever to live a fulfilled life, fear is never a sufficient excuse to avoid doing what we ought to. I am (now) grateful for that awful duet, I have never again sung in public like that, but it prepared me for a life of public speaking that I dearly love.

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