Sunday, March 1, 2009

Lenten Canticle


by Judy Bevilacqua


A few Sundays ago, in those hushed and expectant moments right before the service begins, I found myself weighed down, fighting a numbing sadness that has accompanied a recent transition in my life. As I sat there, rather vacantly, I became aware that a gentle wave of consolation was sweeping over me -- an intimate sense of commiseration. It took a minute, but I finally realized that the source of my solace was coming from music. Bill, our organist was playing an organ prelude.


I felt a bit like the mentally disturbed Saul being ministered to by David’s harp. How was it that these sounds could find their way deep into my sad cells? It wasn’t exactly peace that I felt, rather some deep intimate companionship. Some sense of being known and understood.


Listening, I realized the hymn was full of notes both minor and major, of tension and resolve, dissonance and resolution, joy and pain, light and shadow... just like real life. Like MY life right now, I thought. And yet, these musical intervals were understood, yes, even designed by God... invisible sound waves, vibrating with His spirit right to my spirit! With no effort on my part, I was able to receive God’s commiseration at that moment. I could hear St. Paul’s words: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin.” Hebrews 4:15. This is a verse I will carry into the Lenten season.


Later, I asked Bill to tell me about the piece he had played. It turned out to hold a significant place in his life too. It was written by Fr. Christopher Uehlein, a monk at Blue Cloud Abbey in Marvin, South Dakota. Bill had the honor of meeting with him at the abbey 6 years ago, and, in a private concert, heard this piece for the first time. The piece is called Cantabile, which is an adjective describing the music as smooth, flowing, melodious,….SINGING!


Of course! It all made sense. God, the Father, was simply singing over His daughter at church! Comforting, quieting her with His love. O, what wondrous love is this!


In the numbness of your need, the weariness of your weakness, may you hear Him singing over you -- through the barren-beauty of your Lenten Journey.


The LORD your God is with you,

He is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you,

He will quiet you with his love,

He will rejoice over you with singing.

Zephaniah 3:17

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