Sunday Afternoon Music Video: Vespera

My oldest son heads back to college in a few days, and one of the things I will miss is hearing him extemporaneously sing with his brother in the kitchen. Madrigals mix with bits from Wicked, add, too a dash Moses Hogan. It's all accompanied by the splash of water as someone cleans up and the clanging of pans on the stove as the next meal gets underway. I'll miss my personal boy choir.

This choral piece spoke to me of the tenderness of the evening times, as the sky wraps around us, and God's grace settles over us.

As the summer in the north draws to a close, may God gently wrap you in grace and hold you safe through the days to come.

Have a favorite piece of "gentle-ing" music?  Share in the comments, so we can stash some calming grace for the next chaotic day!

Sunday Afternoon Music Video: Alleluia

Several years ago, during the Easter season, the daughter of a friend received communion for the first time. Profoundly handicapped, she cannot see, walk or speak, but she adores music, and I love watching her face when I cantor the psalm. But when the alleluia burst forth, it so startled her that she lost her usual grin. I felt awful, though her father assured me afterwards that it was just that she couldn't see it coming. Literally!

Eric Whitacre's still and gentle Alleluia wouldn't startle anyone I suspect. I find in the frenzy of the end of the semester, following upon the intensity of the early part of this liturgical season, I don't always want my allelluias with trumpet blasts. The depth and stillness of this version sings to me of the enduring grace of the resurrection in ways that the trumpets do not, and ever so gently draws me into God's embrace.

If you need a late afternoon or evening meditation, lie back, close your eyes and spend 10 minutes with this piece.

Did anyone sing anything that could't have use a trumpet or two today? Share in the comments!

Sunday Afternoon Music Video: Come Thou Font of Every Blessing

As I turned bread out from a bowl to knead yesterday, dipping my hand into a full bin of fine white flour to dust the table top, flour flying with abandon, I thought of the widow in Sunday's reading.  I imagine her scraping her flour bin, with its bits of grindstone that had settled to the bottom, reserving virtually nothing to keep the dough from sticking.  There is an expression of persistent hope there that I suspect you don't grasp until you've struggled with dough that sticks to everything in sight, including your hands. 

I love the percussion under this setting, that reminds me of the rhythm of kneading, of pulling and stretching and turning that takes the recalcitrant dough and turns it into a loaf.

What stretched you musically this weekend? What provided a rhythm for the week to come?

Share with us in the comments!

Sunday Afternoon Music Video: Wade in the water

I love the quiet strength of this song in the hands and mouths of Sweet Honey in the Rock.

The readings this weekend at my church spoke to me of the ways in which we want to control God's actions in the world.  The Israelite who complain to Moses that Medad and Eldad, John who wants to stop those who were not "officially" sent from working miracles in Jesus' name.

We can be unwelcoming, if not downright judgmental, toward those who we find doing God's name outside of our institutions and with those who are on the margins.  But the prophets among us wade into the troubled waters regardless.

What challenged you in the music you sang or played this weekend?  (Musically or otherwise!)  Share with us in the comments.

Sunday Afternoon Music Videos: Speak, Lord

For many of us today, the Gospel reading challenged us to be simultaneously open — to be able to hear and to speak — and silent — to hold deep within ourselves the mystery of what God has done for us. As I contemplate what it means to speak and to be silent, to hear and to be heard, to hold God within and proclaim him in the streets, I re-discovered this piece from Margaret Rizza's collection New Dawn. It's a gently haunting litany of ways in which we might hear the voice of the Lord: in the silence of the stars...in the heaving of the seas...in the words of a stranger...

What did you hear — musically or otherwise — proclaimed this weekend? Where do you go to listen to God's voice? Share with us in the comments, and perhaps we will all find new ways to listen.

Sunday Afternoon Music Videos: Canticle of the Turning

The readings today spoke of difficult mercies: prophets sent to the hard of heart, an angel of Satan sent to keep Paul from becoming "too elated" as one translation has it, the poignant Gospel of Mark where Jesus' neighbors and friends cannot comprehend who he is...turning him out.

We didn't sing this piece today — but the text speaks to me of the mercies we are offered, the gradual way in which fire and water soften the stone of our hearts, and the power that can perfect even our weaknesses. I enjoyed the power of this arrangement, which literally shook my desk. The voice of the Lord, full of power.

My heart shall sing of the day you bring. Let the fires of your justice burn. Wipe away all the tears, For the dawn draw near, And the world is about to turn.

Though I am small, my God, my all, you work great things in me,
And your mercy will last from the depths of the past to the end of the age to be.
Your very name puts the proud to shame, and to those who would for you yearn,
You will show your might, put the strong to flight, for the world is about to turn.

--Canticle of the Turning/Rory Cooney

Sunday Afternoon Music Videos: Lost all in wonder

Two weeks ago I spent a week in silence in a mountain top monastery on the Pacific Coast — though not the one shown here. The monks of New Camoldoli chant the daily cycle of prayer, and encourage guests to join them.

The chant kept my breathing paced, and deep, and singing in this sustained way with a community, kept me listening carefully to those around me. Back to the chaos of a son's graduation and various work deadlines, the sense of stillness and calm and ability to listen that this monastic mix of silence and chant fostered remains with me.

The words to this traditional Catholic Eucharistic hymn are from Thomas Aquinas. My favorite translation is by Gerard Manley Hopkins, SJ:

Godhead here in hiding, whom I do adore,
Masked by these bare shadows, shape and nothing more,
See, Lord, at thy service low lies here a heart
Lost, all lost in wonder at the God thou art.

(And then there is the odd reference to the pelican...)

What music stilled your soul today? Share with us in the comments!

Sunday Afternoon Music Video: Our Father

Baba yetu uliye mbinguni, 
Jina lako litukuzwe, 
Ufalme wako uje, 
Mapenzi yako yatimizwe, 
hapa duniani kama huko mbinguni. 
Utupe leo riziki yetu. 
Utusamehe deni zetu, kama sisi nasi tuwasamehevyo wadeni wetu. 
Na usitutie majaribuni, lakini utuokoe na yule mwovu. 
Kwa kuwa ufalme ni wako, na nguvu, na utukufu, hata milele. Amina. 
(Our Father in Swahili)

"It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will remain, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name he may give you."

Long ago, when I was in college, working on a linguistics degree, I had to take two years of a non-Indo-European language. I chose Kiswahili, in part because I had friend who spoke it and I could practice with him, and partly because the structure of the language fascinated me. My son's choral group sang this piece for this final concert and I enjoy seeing if I could follow the Our Father in a language I haven't tried to speak in almost three decades.

As we head toward Pentecost, the rich mix of languages in which we ask God for what we need is on my mind. What voices struck you in the music this week?  Share with us in the comments!

Sunday Afternoon Music Videos: Cantante Domino

Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD;
let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come before him with thanksgiving
and extol him with music and song.
For the LORD is the great God,
the great King above all gods.
In his hand are the depths of the earth,
and the mountain peaks belong to him.
The sea is his, for he made it,
and his hands formed the dry land.

Come, let us bow down in worship,
let us kneel before the LORD our Maker;
for he is our God
and we are the people of his pasture,
the flock under his care.

The celebration of the Triduum in my parish began on Thursday morning with this Psalm. After all the intensity of the liturgies of the last few days, culminating in the thundering joy of this morning's celebrations, I find in Avro Pärt's a gentler sense of the Resurrection. It evokes for me my favorite narrative of the resurrection, Mary of Magdala meeting Jesus in the garden. St. John Chrysostom reflects on the gentleness of this encounter, of Jesus' desire to let this joy unfold bit by bit for us, lest we be overwhelmed by it all.

May you have a blessed and graced celebration of the Resurrection -- and for all those who ministered at altars and tables, in ambos, pulpits and choir lofts, for those who sang, preached, proclaimed, prepared and played these holiest of days - may there be joyous rest!

Sunday Afternoon Music Videos: Silent, Surrendered

Silent, surrendered.
Silent, surrendered, calm and still,
open to the word of God.
Heart humbled to his will,
offered is the servant of God.

The music here is pounding, the saws are whining and every so often a voice comes over the sound system asking for a hand with the lights. I'm writing this while chaperoning the high school crew building the sets for their spring production of The Wiz. Silent. Not. Still. No way! But amazingly calm. These are the kids whose shirts say "If you see me, something has gone terribly wrong." They exude a wondrous humility of spirit. It's not about them, it's about what they can help come to be. I suspect some of their sense of calm comes from their desire to be of service unseen, though they might not couch it in quite those terms.

What's the tone where you are worshipping or working this weekend? Calm. Still. Surrendered?

Sunday Afternoon Music Videos: Lord of All Grace

Our homilist talked about incarnation, God walking among us, as us, touching us as we ourselves touch each other, touching us as we cannot or will not. Jesus touched a leper, an unthinkable act in that time and place.

I love the lines in this song, which we used as our opening hymn, about Christ's hands and presence:

Lord of all eagerness, Lord of all faith,
Whose strong hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe...

Lord of all kindliness, Lord of all grace,
Your hands swift to welcome, Your arms to embrace...

Lord of all gentleness, Lord of all calm,
Whose voice is contentment, whose presence is balm...

Where are we balm, when do we reach out to touch what the world considers untouchable?

What touched you today in celebration, musically or otherwise? Share with us in the comments!

Sunday Afternoon Music Videos: From Sheba they came

Advent has so much music, it cries out for a return to a six week season. Meanwhile, the short season of Christmastide has an even shorter repertoire to draw on. Many of us are caroled out by now, and wondering if there is anything suitable for the season beyond "We Three Kings." In short, yes! This gorgeous Bach cantata was first performed for Dreikönigsfest — the feast of the Epiphany — in 1724. The unknown librettist has the tenor offer in his recitative, not the standard gifts but

The gold of faith, the frankincense of pray'r,
The myrrh of patience, these now are my off'rings

What gifts, musical or otherwise, were exchanged in your celebrations today, be they of Epiphany or of the Baptism of Our Lord? Share with us in the comments!



Arvo Pärt's haunting Anthem of John the Baptist would be an apt and gentle way to end the Christmas season (regardless of whether you celebrated Baptism of the Lord today or not). I couldn't find an online version, but it is on iTunes and well worth the listen.

Sunday Afternoon Music Videos: O Come Divine Messiah

My community is struggling with a new translation of our liturgy, along with new music to match. Just on a practical level, getting everyone on the same page at the same time while trying to be prayerfully present to the mysteries we are celebrating, and anticipating, has been tough. This hymn closed the service last night, and suddenly all the joy and anticipation that had been buried under our pew cards and books and new hymnals came spiraling out of the piano, violins and voices...

What burst forth in song in your community today?

Sunday Afternoon Music Videos: Kyrie in a Major Key

The wind blows hard against this mountain side
Across the sea into my soul
It reaches into where I cannot hide
Setting my feet upon the road....

Kyrie eleison
Down the road that I must travel
Kyrie eleison
Through the darkness of the night
Kyrie eleison
Where I'm going would you follow?
Kyrie eleison
on the highway in the light — from Kyrie, Mr. Mister

I'm back from almost 2 full weeks of silence, the last 8 days of them on retreat here. When I got back in the car to drive home, this was at the top of my play list. Kyrie eleison. Lord, have mercy. I loved the joyous beat of it all, propelling me back out into the world and down the PA turnpike.

One joy of my retreat was hearing five terrific Jesuit homilists preach on, among other texts, Matthew's description of Jesus setting the disciples feet upon the road (here and here).

Many of us are traveling this summer, in body and soul. On retreat, on holiday, to new ministries, to and from school. May the Lord have mercy on all our roads, may the cooling winds of God's Spirit blow from every corner of the earth to renew us.

What music moved your soul this weekend? Share with us in the comments!

________
I checked my music library to discover I have almost 2 hours worth of Kyrie's in it -- this would be by far the liveliest! If you find yourself in need of something a bit more calming, try this Kyrie by British composer Margaret Rizza.

Sunday Afternoon Music Videos: Come Holy Spirit

Come, Holy Spirit! Many of our assemblies were bursting with the Spirit today, lit by songs of fire and wind. I could not help but think of John Donne's

Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

The Spirit often feels like a boisterous presence among us, shaking the timbers of the churches as well as our souls. Two weeks ago I was in Japan, plans to take a ferry across the Inland Sea scuttled by a great wind - a Tai Phun. Yet it was not the great winds and deluging rains that took my breath away, it was the post-typhoon clarity. The water pouring forth from a steep mountain side, folding and re-folding the light of the sun, molten gold in the afternoon sun.

Estonian composer Arvo Pärt's setting of the traditional Pentecost sequence, Veni Spirtus Sancte, has that same stilling clarity for me. Clear, ringing quietly, in the space cleared by the great winds and flames, the Spirit works here, too...

Sunday Afternoon Music Video: God of Day and God of Darkness

"God of day and God of darkness,
now we stand before the night.
As the shadows stretch and deepen,
come and make our darkness bright.
All creation still is groaning
for the dawning of your might.
When the Sun of peace and justice
fills the earth with radiant light."

-- Marty Haugen

There is something so plain and simple about this video, you can hear the chair creak, there are no vocals, yet the guitar speaks with power. The tune is Beech Spring, to which Marty Haugen set God of Day and God of Darkness. All through Advent, I wrote about light and flame, now we're sitting in a moment where the earth itself is groaning, and it's people as well. Lent always seems to shift the earth under my feet, re-grounding me in the ashes and dust from whence I came.

As Lent begins, where is the music in your life and your community grounded? Share with us in the comments!

Sunday Afternoon Music Video: Taste and See

Taste and see the goodness of the Lord! My spiritual director quotes this psalm and pulls out a box filled with chocolate (and other good things) to share at the end of each of our conversations, a physical reminder he says of all the graces shared that we cannot see. The hardest part for me is always to choose -- dark chocolate or lemon, fire or water -- and to remember that joy comes in each.

What did you choose to sing today?

Sunday Afternoon Music Video: Come to the Water/Jordan

The homilist at my church this morning was freshly back from a trip to India to work with the Dalit — the "untouchables." The call was to see our own baptism at work in the world, as Jesus' was, in the everyday ways we deal with those we meet.

This song's mix of gentleness and disruption felt like similar nudge to be about what I am called to do.

What music got you moving out into the world from your congregation today? Share with us in the comments!

Sunday Afternoon Music Video:Hymn to Hope

This piece is not a "hymn" in the church sense--but a haunting and beautiful melody from "Secret Garden." I love the subtle sense of--is it expectancy?

This morning I had a strange experience. I was moderating the service, and as I began the morning's opening prayer, I felt strongly to pray for those among us who, at this dawning of a new year, at least as we count such things, had lost hope. So I did and thought no more about it until at the conclusion of the service, through a rather unusual chain of events, found myself praying with a woman who I have never met, a visitor to the service who told me, weeping, "I did not want to come here today...because it seems pointless. I've lost all hope." As we finished a short time of prayer together, she hugged me, wiped her eyes and confided, "Maybe God does see me after all."

Don't you love it when the Holy Spirit does those surprising things? So I was humming "Song of Hope" to myself and decided to share it, even though there are no words to sing and we didn't share it in church.

What music is in your heart today? Did you sing it in church? Or did it come from another source?

Sunday Afternoon Music Video: Stella Maris

This piece seems to capture the silence and the stillness that I so covet by this point in Advent. The setting is medieval plainsong, a hymn to Mary in her title "Star of the Sea" (Stella Maris — thought by some to be an errant transcription of St. Jerome's translation of Miriam (Mary) as stilla maris — a "drop in the sea".)

The text echoes the readings many of our communities heard today, Isaiah and Matthew's pericope on John the Baptist:

Solve vincla reis,
profer lumen cæcis....

Loosen the chains of the guilty,
Send forth light to the blind...

and

Vitam praesta puram,
iter para tutum:
ut videntes Iesum
semper collaetemur.

Bestow a pure life,
Prepare a safe way:

That seeing Jesus,

We may ever rejoice.

I first heard this piece on the frozen edge of the Atlantic while making the Spiritual Exercises. Now I can't hear it without breathing deeply of silence, winter and the ocean.

May the silence enfold you, may drops of dew from heaven soothe your soul, may you travel in safety and may you rejoice heartily in the Lord on this Gaudete Sunday!

What joyous praises did your community give voice to this weekend? There's so much wonderful Advent music to hear, and so little time to hear it -- please share your feast with us in the comments!