[ What a question. It actually takes Byerly back a moment. How could you describe the experience of playing? He settles, finally, on: ]

It is like being a bell, and being lifted and struck.

[ There’s a sincerity in that. Here, at last: something that Byerly loves without embarrassment or reservation or shame. One lone place where the armor of irony and suspicion and deception reveals a little gap, showing a quick flash of the tender heart underneath. ]

There’s a reason that we sing the Chant. The Maker speaks in music, and it’s how we can best respond.