Singers of different backgrounds, races and religions sing with one voice as part of a burgeoning North Shore gospel group.

Arlyne Rosenberg is a small, soft-spoken Jewish woman from Swampscott. When God needs worshiping, she generally does it in a temple. That's why it is of particular interest that in the middle of her life, she would choose as her role model a passionate African American woman who is a powerhouse of a dancer and gospel singer.

Rosenberg and several other Jewish ladies are finding a voice, a strong one, with a predominately black gospel group headed up by Doreen Murray, a tiny, talented woman with a knack for bringing people together.

Two groups, both considered fairly exclusive, are now singing as one - the Jewish people with their shared history and culture, a club you must, for the most part, be born into, and the quintessential black gospel choir, something many white Protestants truly envy Sunday mornings while droning through another unfelt verse of "My soul be on thy guard; ten thousand foes arise; the hosts of sin are pressing hard to draw thee from the skies…"

A few white Protestants and Catholics have also found their way to the Follow Hymn Interfaith Choir, an open and accepting gospel group on the North Shore whose members believe the more diverse their group, the better. Group founder Murray notes there are no Muslim members ...yet.

In a world of cynics, in a region especially known for its own sharp brand of cynicism, it is somewhat surprising to find 50 people who are willing to give up their precious free time to rehearse in a spiritual choir group.

But these people, who meet in Lynn, sometimes as often as once a week, from allover the North Shore, the Boston area
and southern New Hampshire, think it's not only worth it, but absolutely necessary for their own personal happiness.

"I really admire all the deep faith they have," says Rosenberg of the choir members. "They kind of just project it on to the rest of us. We tend to be inhibited and they pull out from us some of the stuff we tend to repress. I know they've done a lot for my personal ego. They always say: 'You're so cute' and 'You look so nice."

Though she taught classes to Spanish-speaking elementary school students, Rosenberg says she has rarely gotten the
chance to learn about other cultures. Now between rehearsing songs, the group pretty much thrives on a constant cultural exchange, learning more and more about these people they now consider family.

"I think if it was just about the music it would be a little superficial," says Rosenberg, who first heard Murray sing a few year ago as a guest soloist at her temple in Swampscott. She had never heard such powerful emotion in a voice expressing religious sentiment.

"The first time we heard Doreen's voice, we all got goose bumps," she says. She then visited Murray's Zion Baptist Church in Lynn for Easter one year. "They just took us in with so much love, it was incredible," she says. "They just hug and kiss you and take you in." Now as part of the group, Rosenberg too extends this kind of care, helping those who are sick, in some kind of crisis or who just need a hug.

“I guess it’s just a microcosm of how we wish the rest of the world were. I guess if there were more microcosms we wouldn’t have people killing in the name of Allah or whoever," she says. "How dare anyone kill in the name of God, you know? I can't believe God, or whatever his name is, would want these things going on in his name."

But the world is getting better, says Rosenberg, who has long considered herself a social liberal. "Things are evolving. It improves your thoughts, makes you realize everyone's the same under the skin. "Natalia Kogan, who is also Jewish, agrees with Rosenberg. "I feel deeply connected with people with all these different backgrounds," says Kogan, who lives in Marblehead and had never heard gospel music until she emigrated to the U.S. from Russia in 1979.

Her family and friends in Russia would be amazed to see her participating in such a dynamic style of worship, says Kogan. However, she is
happy her beliefs are still respected by Murray and the others. "If I'm not comfortable saying the words 'Jesus Christ,' I don't have to, " she says.

Walking with angels

Most of the group admit they are there because of Murray, a woman so spirited they say if you stand close enough to her, it's bound to rub off on you. Once in the presence of Murray, who is a personal fitness trainer, it's no surprise that she motivates people to drive many miles and show up on time for rehearsal. It seems she could motivate anyone to do anything.

And it makes sense that during a winter that seemed to have no end and a war that shook even the most unshakable, a dash of gospel might be just the ticket. "We are learning what multi-culturalism really is," says Murray. "We are learning about cultures different from our own." Tough times require thought, she says. And she believes there is always someone in our path to make us think about our lives. "You're never solo, even if you think you are. In times like these, it's important to know someone is listening."

These people who listen to us or show us kindness when we least expect it are angels who take all forms, she says.

These "angels" are featured in her original gospel music production, "You Walked with Me," about the struggle to achieve a closer relationship with God. The script and nearly all the production's music and lyrics were written by Murray, the group's musical director Herman Grant and Murray's brother, James, who has written R & B and rap music for major labels in L.A.

The production, which showcases Murray's incredible talent - making clearly evident her role as a true spiritual vessel - was performed at Governor Dummer Academy in Byfield earlier this month. Though the group's repertoire includes classical and Latin pieces and lyrics sung in Hebrew, (with consultation provided by Jewish choir members), gospel music is always a staple, says Murray.

There are endless requests for this deeply soulful, yet simple, inherently American sound, she says, because "it goes beyond the pages and really taps into your soul." "Music is one of those tools, one of those things that bind people," she says. And it is the glue that binds this group. "It's God's rainbow coalition," says Murray." "It's a gathering of people who defy separation because of ethnicity, religion and all those things. We look at music and art as a way to bring people together and say, you can be one."

Barrier Breakers

The interfaith choir came together after Murray, who was always busy working with various church choirs in the area, was asked four years ago to put together a choir for a fund raiser. The diverse group was then appropriately asked to perform for visiting South African peace activist and Nobel Peace Prize winner Bishop Desmond Tutu, whose message about reconciliation across
cultural lines fostered healing during his country's period of apartheid.

The power of coming together could not end at this point. The members wanted to continue. They started to rehearse year-round last summer. This June, Murray will hold auditions at Lynn Arts Center for new performers or for those who simply want to volunteer. Follow Hymn Music Ministries, Inc. is now a non-profit organization, comprising the choir, performers, musicians and sponsors.

The group will perform June 22 at a jazz, gospel' and spoken word coffeehouse at Lynn Arts Center and will perform the play again at Boston College Sept. 13. Murray is also hoping to submit the production to the New Theater Works Festival at Newburyport's Firehouse Center for the Arts this fa1l.

Multi-denominational gospel choir rocks North Shore

On its way to being a sort of, United Nations of religious choirs, The group breaks down stereotypes and barriers by allowing its members to openly ask questions and appreciate positive experiences with people unlike themselves.

“We have conversations and build relationships that we probably wouldn't have or be able to build [without the choir]," says Rev. Adrienne Berry-Burton, a choir member and assistant minister at Murray’s congregation, the Zion Baptist Church in Lynn. “We're invested in each other's lives. I don't have to give up being invested in Jesus Christ to stand next to someone who is invested in being Jewish. We are a model for a world that is so good at tearing each other apart."

“The world is not mono. It's not singular. We are plural in a lot of ways," says Berry-Burton, a regal woman with tiny braids her hair who commands instant respect. “And the way to get to a place that is truly community is to accept that which is different and embrace it."

Thank you, Lord

Out of respect for the Jewish choir members, the word "Jesus" is not used in the prayer before performances or in any of the song lyrics.

But God is there when Berry-Burton leads the group in prayer before the performance in Byfield.

The group, black and white, young and old, stands huddled, arms around each other.

"Lord, thank you for allowing us to bless you...to lift up our voices, to move our bodies, to play our instruments," says Berry-Burton, who is also affiliated with higher education min- istries in Boston and Cambridge.

"Oh God, we thank you that you give us mind, and heart and soul and body...that we might be the some bodies we need to be for each other and for you Lord, God."

Before the performance, the dressing room is abuzz with women doing each other's hair and make-up-an unlikely looking group, under different circumstances. Candace Litchfield, from Danvers; slips into a pink sequined dress for the testimonial vignette Murray wrote about Litchfield's struggle with weight loss. With Murray's help, Litchfield lost 165 pounds over a four-year period.

“I was brought to these people for a reason. It's probably one of the best things that's happened in my life in 48 years, that I was put together with Doreen and she put me with these people. I never even dreamed I would get up on a stage. I couldn't do a book report in school," says Litchfield, who is Catholic, but doesn't consider, herself a big churchgoer. “I think everyone has to have something in their life that matters. I came into this group and I mattered.” Murray accompanied Litchfield on a 60-mile walk from Fitchburg to Boston as part of a breast cancer fund raiser. "The walk wasn't about me doing the training and her walking," says Murray. "It was about the lessons learned doing the walk. I never would have understood what someone that heavy goes through." A huge storm swept through the course while the walkers camped overnight, bringing sleet, hail and a dramatic drop in temperature. Murray said she woke that night to a voice saying, "You walked with me" over and over, until she is pretty sure she was chanting it out loud. The musical production was thus born. "There's always someone out there who's "a little worse off," says Litchfield, who want to return the favor by motivating others to lose weight.

“No matter what the day is or the situation is, everybody needs somebody,” says Litchfield. “You need someone to walk with you, whether it’s God, or whoever you believe in. I had to have something or someone else in my life to help me go through what I had to go through, and what I went through I went through for a reason.

The first spoken words of the production are Murray addressing the audience: "I'm here to talk about good and bad times. Do you know good and bad times?" The appropriate answer here is. "Ummm-hmmmm, go on girl!"

The show's stage manager instructs the audience before the performance to move in closer, filling empty seats, to sit close and get intimate, and to respond to all questions, no matter how rhetorical they may seem.

At one point, Murray is wearing a pearl white, glowing choir robe, with a deep majestic-looking purple lining. She reaches her arms into the audience to feel for their hearts. At times, she certainly succeeds.

The songs through the night are powerful. I'll hasten to his throne," sings Murray. "I love the Lord. Do you know why? Because he heard my cry." The choir swings side to side and appropriately claps and boogies. Though the middle-aged white women do not quite match in ability, they do in spirit.

The dramatic vignettes between the musical numbers stick with universal themes, appropriate to the mission of the group. At one point, Rosenberg yells at Darrell Murkinson, who plays a homeless man, telling him to listen to the voice of knowledge and follow God. The little Jewish woman beats on the young black man, whipping him into shape, as if he's her own son.

Murkinson, a firefighter from Lynn, says the choir experience is a great escape from reality. He's not kidding.

In front of the choir and a four-piece ensemble of drums, guitar, keyboards and a whaling tenor sax, Murray's 49-year-old feet never quit moving. Much like a female version of James Brown, she sings, sweats, moves about the stage and dramatically directs the choir. With one sweep of her powerful arm, she can conjure sweet notes from the group, who start and stop almost, it appears, at her whim. If only life were so easy to direct. Doors of opportunity open. And they do. Perfect response spring from thy mouth. And it does. The evening is a family affair that includes Murray's mother and her own lovely, daughter, who dances in a few numbers and, like everyone else, seems to struggle to keep up with her mom.

The performance ends with Murray in front of the choir singing with her brother the popular 1986 R. Kelly hit, "I Believe I Can Fly." Kids run around the auditorium in white angel costumes, flying mini-kites. A man brings out a giant cloth kite that looks left over from some Asian festival and maneuvers it about the stage. The exhausting three-hour performance binds the audience, not surprisingly also an interesting
mix of people, and no doubt solidifies this unique group just a little bit more.

For information about volunteering or joining the group, contact us at 781-321-2052 or 781-953-1849.