klsiegel320 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
klsiegel320) wrote2003-03-03 02:41 pm
klsiegel320) wrote2003-03-03 02:41 pm
Home again...
...from another lovely weekend at Holy Cross. The retreat title was "Singing and Praying," something I've been doing more or less instinctively since I was old enough to sing. My mother tells me I used to sing to myself in my crib.
We explored a variety of musical forms. Of course, there is the steady, pulsing rhythm of Gregorian chant that surges through the day like an ocean tide. We did two Psalms in Anglican chant - like Gregorian in that there is no meter; unlike in that there is harmony.
The first psalm (Psalm 29 was chosen by Suzette Cayless, one of the two leaders of the retreat, for its personal significance to her. She spoke a bit about praying the psalms, about letting the words sink in with repetition and speak to us.
The first verse of Psalm 29 is "Ascribe to the Lord, you gods, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength." Suzette said her spiritual director assigned her this psalm as a prayer at a time when she was feeling depressed and fearful. We set up all kinds of things as little gods - even that very fear and depression - and it helped her to see even those things as being called upon to give way to God's power; that even things like our depression and fear can somehow be required to give honor and glory to God.
The second psalm we learned - Psalm 27 - was the one appointed for the Sunday Eucharist. It's funny - at first when Scott (the brother who was co-leading the retreat) was reminding us that these various forms of song were also prayer, and to approach the singing as prayer, it was a little difficult to do. I mean, I've been swept away sometimes by prayerful moments in singing - like the "Dona nobis" at the end of Island in Space; like "Breathe on me, breath of God;" like the Sunday I first met the fourth verse of "Light's abode, celestial Salem:"
Oh, how glorious and resplendent, fragile body, shalt thou be,
When endued with heavenly beauty, full of health and strong and free,
Full of vigor, full of pleasure that shall last eternally.
And at first Psalm 27 really wasn't doing that for me. But we kept doing it, especially the last verse because it fit awkwardly with the chant tone - and it began to wear itself a space, to become more prayerful with repetition.
We also sang some selected Shaker hymns - of which there are probably more than most people can count! Lovely, jewel-like, sparkling little melodies - clear, simple, pure, elegant - and at least for the ones Scott chose, words that sparkled as much as the tunes.
And then Sunday the offertory hymn was #487. This hymn is a setting of the words of poem titled The Call, by George Herbert to music by Ralph Vaughn Williams. The melody is lovely, haunting, modal; the words are - to me -exquisite. It has always been - for me - an invocation, a prayer, a plea.
Sunday, singing the third verse, I opened my eyes (I tend to sing things I know by heart with my eyes closed), and sang the words looking into the eyes of the Christ on the icon cross. And it became, somehow, something more - something I'm not even sure I can or should try to describe.
All in all - a very lovely weekend.
We explored a variety of musical forms. Of course, there is the steady, pulsing rhythm of Gregorian chant that surges through the day like an ocean tide. We did two Psalms in Anglican chant - like Gregorian in that there is no meter; unlike in that there is harmony.
The first psalm (Psalm 29 was chosen by Suzette Cayless, one of the two leaders of the retreat, for its personal significance to her. She spoke a bit about praying the psalms, about letting the words sink in with repetition and speak to us.
The first verse of Psalm 29 is "Ascribe to the Lord, you gods, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength." Suzette said her spiritual director assigned her this psalm as a prayer at a time when she was feeling depressed and fearful. We set up all kinds of things as little gods - even that very fear and depression - and it helped her to see even those things as being called upon to give way to God's power; that even things like our depression and fear can somehow be required to give honor and glory to God.
The second psalm we learned - Psalm 27 - was the one appointed for the Sunday Eucharist. It's funny - at first when Scott (the brother who was co-leading the retreat) was reminding us that these various forms of song were also prayer, and to approach the singing as prayer, it was a little difficult to do. I mean, I've been swept away sometimes by prayerful moments in singing - like the "Dona nobis" at the end of Island in Space; like "Breathe on me, breath of God;" like the Sunday I first met the fourth verse of "Light's abode, celestial Salem:"
Oh, how glorious and resplendent, fragile body, shalt thou be,
When endued with heavenly beauty, full of health and strong and free,
Full of vigor, full of pleasure that shall last eternally.
And at first Psalm 27 really wasn't doing that for me. But we kept doing it, especially the last verse because it fit awkwardly with the chant tone - and it began to wear itself a space, to become more prayerful with repetition.
We also sang some selected Shaker hymns - of which there are probably more than most people can count! Lovely, jewel-like, sparkling little melodies - clear, simple, pure, elegant - and at least for the ones Scott chose, words that sparkled as much as the tunes.
And then Sunday the offertory hymn was #487. This hymn is a setting of the words of poem titled The Call, by George Herbert to music by Ralph Vaughn Williams. The melody is lovely, haunting, modal; the words are - to me -exquisite. It has always been - for me - an invocation, a prayer, a plea.
Sunday, singing the third verse, I opened my eyes (I tend to sing things I know by heart with my eyes closed), and sang the words looking into the eyes of the Christ on the icon cross. And it became, somehow, something more - something I'm not even sure I can or should try to describe.
All in all - a very lovely weekend.
Chant & George Herbert
Thanks for the link to "The Call" -- I don't believe I ever have sung that. What do you think he means by "Such a Feast, as mends in length : Such a Strength, as makes his guest." The second part of each line doesn't make sense to me; obviously it is a difference in the way words were used in his time versus ours . . .
Re: Chant & George Herbert
The light that shows a feast, I think, is the light of Christ, and the feast would then be the communion. The feast that "mends in length," I think, means that it gets better the longer it goes on, that it doesn't get boring. Such a strength as makes his guest, I've always especially treasured; I think it refers to the strength we need to reach out, to attend that feast - to be willing to attend that feast, knowing that the Holy Spirit is nothing tame and docile, that we will be changed by it.
That's just my interpretation, of course; never read any specific commentaries on this, so I'm not aware of other, more "official" readings.