Showing posts with label Easter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Easter. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

"Hallelujah" from Beethoven's Christ On The Mount Of Olives

the young Beethoven, by Joseph Willibrord Maehler
   The composer Beethoven was born into a Catholic family, but does not seem to have been devout as an adult.  It is known that he did not attend Mass regularly, and scholars are reluctant to assign to him any religious affiliation at all.  At the same time, it is also clear from his letters and his few religious compositions that, in his stubborn and idiosyncratic way, he retained a strong belief in God and His Providence.
Beethoven’s best-known and by far most successful religious composition is the Missa Sollemnis, which he completed just a few years before his death.  He did make other forays into sacred music earlier in his career, however.  In 1802, for instance, he produced the oratorio Christ on the Mount of Olives, a revision of which he published in 1811.  The dramatic action of the piece focuses on Christ’s “Agony in the Garden” after the last supper, shortly before his arrest.  Beethoven’s piece reaches its climax not with the Resurrection, but at the moment in which Jesus decisively sets aside his human fears and says, “Not my will, but Yours!”
Christ on the Mount of Olives was not one of Beethoven’s more successful endeavors.  The composer himself was sharply critical of Franz Xaver Huber’s libretto; critics did not consider most of the music up to Beethoven’s usual standards.  The oratorio as a whole has not been performed as often as many other Beethoven pieces over the past two centuries, except for one passage: the triumphant “Hallelujah” that rings out at Our Lord’s moment of decision.  It’s a glorious musical acknowledgment of Christ’s self-sacrificing act of redemption, and a glorious way to celebrate the Easter Season.

Sunday, March 27, 2016

He Is Risen! - 'Laudamus Te'

"The Resurrection", by Sebastiano Ricci
He is Risen, Alleluia, Alleluia!


Here's some joyful music for Easter Sunday, Laudamus Te ("We Praise You") from Mozart's Great Mass in C Minor, beautifully performed by Anne Sofie von Otter.







Thursday, November 19, 2015

The Presentation, Atheism, And The Problem Of Suffering

(This Thursday Throwback was first published on The Feast of the Presentation, February 2nd, 2015)


And his father and his mother marveled at what was said about him; and Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, "Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is spoken against (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), that thoughts out of many hearts may be revealed." (Luke 2:33-35)

Girolamo Romanino: The Presentation of Jesus at the Temple
     The Presentation of the Lord presents us with a paradox, or maybe a series of paradoxes, which can lead us deeper into the mystery of Christ.  On the one hand, it is our last fleeting look back at the recently concluded Christmas Season, and we experience some of the joy and wonder of that season, particularly in the prophetic utterances of Simeon. Simeon proclaims the infant Jesus “a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to thy people Israel” (Luke 2:32). His final words, however, foretelling that Christ will be “a sign that is spoken against” and warning the Blessed Mother that “a sword will pierce through your own soul also” redirect us toward the quickly approaching Season of Lent and beyond to the sorrow and suffering of the Triduum.  The last thing we see in Luke’s account of the Presentation is the prophetess Anna, who pulls together the apparent contraries in Simeon’s prophecy: she “spoke of him to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem” (Luke 2:38).  In the end, the glory of Christmas and the sword of Good Friday come together on Easter Sunday: Redemption comes only from the light shining through the darkness of suffering, and we catch a glimpse of the entire story in the Feast of Presentation.
     Given the above, I found it interesting that this story [here] appeared just this morning: Englishman Stephen Fry, an “outspoken atheist”, was asked what he would say if he found himself, contrary to his expectation, face to face with his Creator in the afterlife:

 “I’d say, ‘Bone cancer in children? What’s that about?’” he began.


“’How dare you? How dare you create a world to which there is such misery that is not our fault,” Fry continued. “It’s not right, it’s utterly, utterly evil. Why should I respect a capricious, mean-minded, stupid God who creates a world which is so full of injustice and pain?’ That’s what I would say.”

"Outspoken Atheist" Stephen Fry

In other words, the old Problem of Suffering (which I spend a lot of time discussing with my adolescent religion students).  For us Christians this problem is resolved in the Mystery of the Cross, as we saw above: it’s a paradox that leads us to a higher understanding, and a greater experience.  For the unbeliever, however, it is a contradiction which, if followed to its logical conclusion, leads to annihilation.  Most atheists believe that all reality is reducible to matter, and that this present world is all there is.  Suffering, therefore, is the worst thing that can possibly happen; hence the righteous indignation of the Steven Frys of the world:


Fry went on to question why the God of the universe would allow pain and suffering and argued that doing away with belief in God makes life “simpler, purer, cleaner, more wroth [sic] living, in my opinion.”

Doing away with belief in God, however, really only makes Fry’s problem worse: instead of leading to redemption, suffering is now simply random and pointless pain.  Not only that, but it is something we all must experience, it’s inescapable.  The only way to eliminate suffering for a Steven Fry is to eliminate not God, but humanity.  Fry’s fellow atheist, the philosopher David Benatar [here] proposes just this solution is his book Better Never to Have Been: The Harm of Coming Into Existence. 
    Small wonder that The Presentation is included in the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary, despite Simeon’s ominous (and alarming, no doubt, to Mary and Joseph) utterance.  We are reminded that, through his Incarnation, Death, and Resurrection, Christ has sanctified suffering, that it is no longer a random, meaningless evil, but a path to Heaven.  That is, indeed, Good News.
    




Sunday, May 10, 2015

"Stimmt an die Saiten" from Joseph Haydn's The Creation (Die Schöpfung) & Weekly Roundup

     Today is the Sixth Sunday of Easter: He is truly Risen, alleluiah, alleluiah!
     Joseph Haydn is rightly considered one of the great composers.  He made a large contribution to the development of music in the late 18th century, not just through his own music, but through the other composers he taught and mentored.  Among his students wee two of the greatest: Mozart and Beethoven.
     Haydn also was eager to learn from other composers.  On a trip to England he became intrigued by Handel's oratorios, and wanted to try something similar in the musical vocabulary of his own day.  The result was his oratorio The Creation, finished in 1798.  The brief clip below is a chorus celebrating the 3rd day of creation.





Added Bonus: Weekly Round-up from 
Principium et Finis & Nisi Dominus

Tuesday – “The Liturgy of the Hour and You (LOH 3)” A practical discussion of how even insanely busy lay men and women can make the Liturgy of the Hours a part of their life.

Wednesday – “Spirit, Matter, and the Word of God” It's worth a little extra effort to come to know the words of Scripture, because words matter, especially those inspired by the Eternal Word Who Became Flesh.

and – “Abortion Myth #12” Apparently, it's o.k. to kill anyone, human or not, who isn't a "person"; but who gets to decide which of us are "persons" and which aren't? 

Thursday – “When ‘Progress’ Isn’t Progress”  Substituting the Wisdom of This World for what has been handed on from the beginning isn't progress.

Friday – “Archbishop Cordileone, Catholic Teachers, and the ‘TorreTest’”  The Archbishop of San Francisco seems to think that he shouldn't have to pay people to subvert the Church.  The Nerve! Now if he were the owner of a sports franchise, that might be different . . . 

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Antonio Vivaldi "Laudamus Te" & Roundup from the 3rd Week of Easter, 2015

He is truly risen,  Alleluia!

A beautiful joyful song of praise composed by the incomparable Antonio Vivaldi. And, as an added bonus, links to the week's posts (no extra charge!)





Weekly Roundup, 3rd Week of Easter 2015

Monday – “Cardinal George, Patron of Christian Hope” Chicago’s Cardinal George passed away last week – here’s a farewell to a fine Catholic leader, and another look at his most famous remark.


Wednesday – “St.Paul’s Autographs” St. Paul had a big, expansive personality, and used big, expansive handwriting. Which is rather fascinating . . . 

and “Abortion Myth # 11”  Yes, we’re all just clumps of cells in the end, aren’t we? 


Thursday – “The Liturgy of the Hours: Sanctify Your Day” The first installment in a series about the Divine Office for busy, busy, busy lay men and women. 

and “Why Would You Want Satan As A Mascot?” We choose the lion for its courage, the ram for its toughness; what qualities do we admire in the Prince of Lies?   


Friday – “Saint of the Day: St. Mellitus & The Sweetness of the Gospel” One of the most consequential Saints you’ve never heard of.


Saturday – “Those Who Love Him Will Keep His Commandments” How the reductionist approach to Christianity leads, in the end, to only one place and, friend, you don’t want to go there. 

Rubens, The Risen Christ




Saturday, April 18, 2015

J.S. Bach - Sinfonia, Oratorio

Here's some joyful music for the Easter Season, the Sinfonia from J.S. Bach's Easter Oratorio.
The Lord is Risen, alleluia, alleluia!





Monday, April 6, 2015

Mozart: Alleluja (Julia Lezhneva, Helsinki Baroque Orchestra)

The Lord is truly Risen, Alleluia, Alleluia!

We avoided the joyful cry of "alleluia" throughout the Season of Lent, but now Christ is Risen!  This Alleluia, from Mozart's motet "Exultate, Jubilate", is an especially beautiful expression of the wonder of the Resurrection.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

Asleep in the Garden

This is my Holy Thursday post from last year (I hesitate to use the term "throwback" on this particular Thursday).  While I seem to be suffering from a similar state of wearyness, I nevertheless managed to come up with a new post for the Triduum ( on Nisi Dominus: "Christ Came to Serve"). With that out of the way, now it's time to step back a little and let the Lord take charge . . . 

Asleep in the Garden

And they went to a place which was called Gethsem'ane; and he said to his disciples, "Sit here, while I pray." And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled.  And he said to them, "My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch." And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.  And he said, "Abba, Father, all things are possible to thee; remove this cup from me; yet not what I will, but what thou wilt." And he came and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, "Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."  And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words.  And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy; and they did not know what to answer him. And he came the third time, and said to them, "Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? It is enough; the hour has come; the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners.  Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand." And immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas came, one of the twelve, and with him a  crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders.      (Mark 14:32-43)

     It’s been a tough week.  Like Martha, I’ve been worried about many things (Luke 10:41), and find myself physically and mentally exhausted (one result of which is that I have posted very little on this blog this week). I had wanted to post something for the upcoming Triduum . . .but . . . nothing.  Nothing insightful, interesting, or even clever came to mind.  As I fruitlessly racked my brain (now there’s an interesting image!) up came an image of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, in agony (according to Steve Ray, to whom I was listening on my car radio on the way in to work,  many scholars believe that Christ’s greatest suffering was in the garden, where he felt the full weight of humanity’s sins).  Peter, John, and James doze off (three times!), too wrapped up in themselves to attend to the Master who has asked for their support in his time of supreme trial.  That’s me, I realized: at the holiest time of the year, as I should be focusing on The Lord suffering for my sins, all I can think of is myself.  It’s sort of sad, isn’t it? 

     That being the case, I’ve resolved to turn my focus to Jesus Christ as I take part in the observance of the Easter Triduum.  I’ll set aside my concerns and worries (please, Lord, give me the Grace!); if the Holy Spirit gives me something worthwhile to say I’ll say it, if not I’ll content myself to keep My Lord company from the Cenacle to Calvary, and wait in Joyful Hope for his return on Easter Sunday.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Passion Sunday: Pick Up Your Cross . . .

Passion Sunday     

Today’s liturgical observance is officially called “Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord.”  The name reflects the dual nature of the liturgy, as the Mass is preceded by a procession with palms in commemoration of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem, but the readings include one of the Gospel accounts (this year St. Mark’s) of his arrest, trial, and crucifixion.

     My “inner Pharisee” is sometimes tempted to think that this pre-figuring of Good Friday before the fact  is much like the practice of moving Ascension Thursday to a Sunday in order to catch people who can’t be bothered to show up in church on a week day, but that is not the case.  Even if there weren't many people who have jobs that won’t allow participation in the Good Friday liturgy, or are kept away for other reasonable causes, there are good reasons to turn to the events of the Passion before the Triduum, and the practice goes back further than one might think.  Prior to Vatican II the second Sunday before Easter was known as Passion Sunday (as is still the case, of course, in the Extraordinary Rite), which introduced the Passiontide, a two week period of more intense focus on the suffering and death of Jesus; in combining it with Palm Sunday, we have actually moved Passion Sunday a week closer to Good Friday. Christ’s self-sacrifice at Calvary is one of the most important events in the Liturgical Year, and really one of the most significant events in all of human history, so it is fitting that we don't just pass over it in a day or two. Placing the Passion at the center of this Sunday’s liturgy gives the direction for the rest of Holy Week, so that we’re already in the proper frame of mind before we reach the culminating events of Holy Thursday and Good Friday
     Combining Passion Sunday with Palm Sunday also gives us an interesting and, I think, fruitful perspective on the events leading up to the Crucifixion.  Very many, at least, of the people singing “hosanna” as Jesus rode into Jerusalem were not cheering for the real Jesus but for a fantasy Messiah who, they thought, would be a very worldly savior.   Many of these same people, most likely, were calling for his crucifixion a few days later.  Moving from the Palms to the Passion in the same liturgy helps drive home that reality for us, and our participation in both ends of the process reminds us (or should, at least) of our own complicity in the Crucifixion of Jesus (for more on this point, see my post “Palm Sunday: Who Are Those Cheering People?”).

     Too often we try to take shortcuts to rewards of various kinds without doing the hard work that those rewards require; today we are reminded that if we want Christ as our King, we need to pick up our cross and follow him.

Week Links

     Shortly after I started blogging, I was invited by RAnn of This That and the Other Thing to participate in Sunday Snippets, a weekly Catholic link-swapping sort of thing.  RAnn has recently hung up her snippetting hat after long and faithful service (thanks again, RAnn), but old habits die hard, and I’ve grown accustomed to compiling a Sunday Summary of the week’s bloggery.  So, please feel free take a scroll through the links below: who knows? You might find something worth reading.

Tuesday – “Sins of the Fathers . . . And of Kings” The Christian burial (530 years late) of England’s Richard III got me thinking: how different would the past half-millenium have been if a couple of his fellow monarchs were less prone to sins of the flesh?  

Wednesday – “Let It Be Done To Me According ToThy Word”  The Annunciation Big things come from small beginnings.

Thursday – “History, Culture, and Narcissism” According to Albert Einstein, “God does not place dice with the World”. Nor does he with History: the Greco-Roman roots of Christendom are no accident. 

Friday – “Abortion Myth #7” It’s easy to throw words around, but whose choice and whose body are questions the pro-abortion people would rather we didn’t ask. 

Saturday -  My penultimate music clip for Lent is “So Now My Jesus Is Taken Prisoner” from Bach’s  St. Matthew Passion, 

and -  My final music clip for Lent is “O Sacred Head Sore Wounded” from Bach’s St. Matthew Passion  



Monday, January 19, 2015

Schola Regina Pacis - Stabat Mater (J. Rheinberger)

I had never heard of of the composer Joseph Rheinberger (1839-1901) unlike very recently.  Even though he is not known to most of us, to those more knowledgeable than me he is well-known and highly-regarded as both a composer and an organist (see biography here).  In his time he composed twelve Masses, and also this lovely setting for the Stabat Mater:

Friday, December 26, 2014

The 2nd Day of Christmas & Feast of St. Stephen: Joy, Sorrow & Triumph

But he [Stephen], full of the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God; and he said, "Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing at the right hand of God." But they cried out with a loud voice and stopped their ears and rushed together upon him. Then they cast him out of the city and stoned him; and the witnesses laid down their garments at the feet of a young man named Saul. And as they were stoning Stephen, he prayed, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." And he knelt down and cried with a loud voice, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." And when he had said this, he fell asleep.
And Saul was consenting to his death.  (Acts 7:55-8:1)   

 I’ve heard it said that the wooden manger, a couple of planks laid across two trestles, foreshadows the wooden beams of the cross.  If that’s a little too subtle an indication of what the incarnation is about, there’s this: on the Second Day of Christmas, when the dishes from Christmas dinner have hardly had time to dry and be put away, we celebrate the Feast of St. Stephen, the Proto-martyr, the first Christian to die for the Faith after the death of Christ himself.  Could there possibly be a more jarring reminder that our Joy is not care-free, that Grace is not cheap, and that the Nativity leads directly to the Crucifixion? 
     St. Stephen himself was one of the original deacons, who were chosen in the following way:

And the twelve summoned the body of the disciples and said, "It is not right that we should give up preaching the word of God to serve tables. Therefore, brethren, pick out from among you seven men of good repute, full of the Spirit and of wisdom, whom we may appoint to this duty. But we will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word."  (Acts 6:2-4)

Despite being appointed “to serve tables”, Stephen, like his fellow Deacon Philip (see here), was in fact also called upon to preach the word of God (Acts 7), which is what leads to his death.  St. Stephen’s story is a reminder that we all have different roles to play, but all of us are called upon to witness to the Gospel  (μάρτυς, the Greek word from which we get the word martyr, means “witness”).
     The very origin of that word shows us that the simple fact of being a witness to Christ provokes strong, sometimes violent, opposition. But note the young man Saul (the future St. Paul, Apostle and Martyr), who looks on in approval, maybe even as a leader or instigator of St. Stephen’s stoning. It’s possible that the example of the Proto-martyr helped to prepare him for his eventual conversion, and that the ferocity of his persecution of Christians between Stephen’s death and his own encounter with the risen Christ was borne of a desperate resistance to the gentle promptings that were stirring in his heart. In any case, we see that we should not be discouraged even by the strongest opposition, because the power of Christ is stronger still.  We need to do our part, and trust Him to do the rest.
     And so if we take the long view, commemorating the death of the First Martyr at this time is not at all strange. The Liturgical Calendar reminds us, on the Second Day of  Christmas, that we need to embrace the Gospel in its entirety: the joy of  the Nativity leads to the sorrow of Cavalry, which itself prepares the way for the still greater glory of Easter.  I’ll give St. Peter the final word:
    
There is cause for rejoicing here. You may for a time have to suffer the distress of many trials; but this is so that your faith, which is more precious than the passing splendor of fire-tried gold, may by its genuineness lead to praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ appears. (1 Peter. 1:6-7)

Monday, April 28, 2014

Kiri Te Kanawa "Exultate, jubilate" Mozart KV165

Exultate, Jubilate!  Exult, Rejoice!  The Lord risen!  The incomparable Kiri Te Kanawa sings Mozart's magnificent song of joy.



Sunday, April 20, 2014

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Asleep In The Garden

And they went to a place which was called Gethsem'ane; and he said to his disciples, "Sit here, while I pray." And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled.  And he said to them, "My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch." And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.  And he said, "Abba, Father, all things are possible to thee; remove this cup from me; yet not what I will, but what thou wilt." And he came and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, "Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."  And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words.  And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy; and they did not know what to answer him. And he came the third time, and said to them, "Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? It is enough; the hour has come; the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners.  Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand." And immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas came, one of the twelve, and with him a  crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders.       -Mark 14:32-43

     It’s been a tough week.  Like Martha, I’ve been worried about many things (Luke 10:41), and find myself physically and mentally exhausted (one result of which is that I have posted very little on this blog this week). I had wanted to post something for the upcoming Triduum . . .but . . . nothing.  Nothing insightful, interesting, or even clever came to mind.  As I fruitlessly racked my brain (now there’s an interesting image!) up came an image of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, in agony (according to Steve Ray, to whom I was listening on my car radio on the way in to work,  many scholars believe that Christ’s greatest suffering was in the garden, where he felt the full weight of humanity’s sins).  Peter, John, and James doze off (three times!), too wrapped up in themselves to attend to the Master who has asked for their support in his time of supreme trial.  That’s me, I realized: at the holiest time of the year, as I should be focusing on The Lord suffering for my sins, all I can think of is myself.  It’s sort of sad, isn’t it? 

     That being the case, I’ve resolved to turn my focus to Jesus Christ as I take part in the observance of the Easter Triduum.  I’ll set aside my concerns and worries (please, Lord, give me the Grace!); if the Holy Spirit gives me something worthwhile to say I’ll say it, if not I’ll content myself to keep My Lord company from the Cenacle to Calvary, and wait in Joyful Hope for his return on Easter Sunday.