December always brings plenty of interesting performing experiences. For years I played a midnight service every Christmas Eve at the same church, and the organist always insisted on keeping the musical collaborations between the harp, choir, and organ simple because “By Christmas Eve, everyone has lost their minds.”

He has since retired, but I continue to play at that church for a Christmas Eve service that begins at 11 p.m. It’s always beautiful, and the church is packed. The service always ends  in darkness at midnight with the congregation holding candles and singing “Silent Night,” accompanied by the harp. It’s a quiet and peaceful way to end what can be a chaotic season. 

Everything was going as planned, the candles were all shining in the darkness as we entered the last verse of “Silent Night.” Then in the distance I heard what sounded like someone’s cell phone ringing. Very unfortunate timing, but certainly the offender will quickly silence it so we can enjoy the end of the song. A few more measures pass, and I can still hear the electronic noise. I’m too focused on playing my accompaniment to figure out where it’s coming from, but there is definitely some rustling going on in the crowd.

Finally, we finish the last stanza, but no one could possibly “sleep in heavenly peace” as what now clearly sounds like a fire alarm continues to blare overhead.

The minister encourages everyone to quickly “go in peace” and I start wondering how quickly I can move my harp out of a burning building. I don’t smell any smoke, though, and no one seems to be moving with any strong sense of urgency. As I am confirming with the organist that we should skip our postlude and get out of there, the alarm stops. Turns out there was no fire. The alarm was the church’s security system that goes on automatically at midnight. Seems someone lost their mind and forgot to turn it off on Christmas Eve. •