Ephemera

I’m feeling a little heartsick at the moment, having discovered that I accidentally deleted the recording of this morning’s worship service from my digital recorder while at rehearsal this afternoon.
Instead of a recording of a wonderful, spirited service featuring the music of the amazing Jim Scott and his percussionist Mark Kohler, I have four audio files of my castmates and me and our music director slogging through the difficult bits of “Why Did I Listen To That Man” and the finale of Act One from “Urinetown.”
*deep sigh*
When things like this happen I remember that not long ago, all worship services were beautifully ephemeral. You were either there in body or you missed the experience. Perhaps you would get a written copy of the sermon at some point, but there was no tape recording, podcasting or selling of CD recordings of the service at coffee hour.
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