Hey, I Heard That At Church!

As promised, I have been watching the Olympics with a fervor and curiousity that has only increased throughout the week. It's so much like life, it's amazing. Bode Miller, who went in favored to win a gaggle of medals, has won nothing except the disappointment and dismissal of all sports writers (yes, I read the sports commentary, too). Lindsey Jacobellis, ahead of the everyone at the end of the snowboard cross, did a fancy trick and fell on her ass, losing to the slow-and-steady rider who zoomed past her when she fell. I ask you -- who of us hasn't had these types of disappointments, dismissals, and falls on our respective asses when it comes to grades, jobs, or relationships?

That aside, I've noticed something curious as I watch the medal cerermonies. Let me start by saying that I have been a Presbyterian most of my life. That probably doesn't mean much to most people and it barely means something to churchy-types. My reasons for being a Presbyterian are myriad and complex, and have changed over time, but pretty much boil down to the fact that Presbyterians are, by and large, good people. (Except when you get a few of them started on Diet Coke - beware. Just trust me on this one.) They started a little rebelliously (John Knox, that minx!), raised a little good natured Protestant hoo-ha, and then, became a church and, as I learned last week, a delicious cocktail.

Being a Presbyterian means that my life has been spent singing hymns with an organ. I will probably classify myself as the oldest-27-year-old-alive by saying this, but I rather like the organ. I like singing with it. I like the way it looks with all those funky pipes peeking out of the walls. I like how it almost disguises some of the horrible, off-key singers around me. And I like hymns. I really do. Some of them are actually funny, and make many of us laugh, like the one with a chorus that goes, "One was a doctor, one was a queen..." And written by a woman named Lesbia. Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.

So imagine my surprise, when watching Germany take home yet another gold medal, their national anthem started playing and I could sing along with it! Granted, I can't tell you the name of the hymn, but still, the fact remains -- recognition occured. It's so hard to feel like one is up on anything these days, so recognition, when it happens, is wonderfully suprising. It makes one feel like part of the human race again. This is what a life of hymn singing can do for a person. Allow you key access into things like national anthem singing and the human race -- if you can keep from laughing.