Saturday, December 17, 2011

and death's dark shadows put to flight

We were the youngest by far, entering late through the side door past the aged faithful, as the organ played Bach and we settled in on the far side in the corner, lost in meditation gazing up at the blue ceiling, the candles illumining, the scriptures read once more, the chants of Advents past in Latin, the words of hope in a time as turbulent as this if not more, if Josephus was right... overreaching and bloated imperial powers, corrupt local authorities sucking the people dry, religious strife between rival factions, and lunatic fringe groups all fighting for domination, of voices in the wilderness, dreams deferred and hopes longed for.



I don't know why someone arranged O Come O Come Emmanuel in a major key because the whole longing for redemption and salvation in a dark world is lost when it's kind of maudlin, but otherwise, the austerity of a stripped sanctuary devoid of ornamentation was good for my soul that still resonates to the liturgical cycle yet is relieved not to sit there awkwardly during Communion because they didn't have it, because I feel it's disrespectful to take the body and blood if one does not believe it to be such.

We return to her house and drink tea at the kitchen table, pondering the state of the world, our residual Catholicism within our certain ethnic blood as her roommates disappear up the stairs laughing in Amharic, the dog and cat chase each other around the tree, and the time slips deeper into night and I drive home through cold streets revived even in near-sleeplessness.

6 comments:

Randal Graves said...

Now you know it's bad form to post tuneage when some of us are stuck helping the unwashed mass of supposed students. (Macmillan seems to get lots o' positive press, yet I realize I've never listened to his stuff).

Anonymous said...

http://ttbook.org/book/dean-bakopoulos-american-unhappiness

bmann said...

Haven't used this JiveLournal account in a few years but I'm identifying myself with it so you'll recognize me.

Never Became A Monk. Never Became A Priest. Nope - I'm a professional journalist now, turns out. My wanna-BBC instincts somehow became a solid paying career.

Tried for poverty, ended up fighting yuppitude. Life's funny.

In my spare time I'm writing a lyrically-driven hardcore song cycle about modern disappointment and spiritual pain. It's a good time. Gonna try and finish it next year, then see about recording with some friends.

I'm on Facebook a lot these days (shamelessly); you don't seem like a Facebook person, but then, one never knows.

Anyway, I am glad to find you still out there in Global Digital Pluralia. My old email address still works, does yours?

that girl said...

Randal,
This is the first time I'd heard of him (shows how out of the loop I am) but I liked what I heard a lot.

word verif: Bedissi

Being dissed or convoluted Debussy, or a third thing.

dmf,
looks interesting!

Ben,
long time no see or whatever it is in the virtual sphere! I replied to your email. Catch me up.

Anonymous said...

RG bait and xmas lights:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=EWWFmhJKJW8#!

Anonymous said...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=Q9WZtxRWieM#!