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awake, dawn, hymn, King David, music, psalm 57, sacred song, sing, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, voice
Psalm 57 gives me pause this morning – specifically verses 8 and 9. As soon as I read: Awake, O my soul; awake lyre and harp, I am ready with the next line: I will wake the dawn! I have this image of King David standing on his balcony watching the light come and singing out God’s praise as loud and melodiously as anyone ever could, perhaps accompanying himself on the lyre.
I remember the first time I read that the psalm (which actually means sacred song or hymn) was always to be sung in liturgical rituals. I was so gratified because we Roman Catholics seemed to have lost touch with that practice (at least in my corner of the world) and what a difference it makes to our worship!
That thought got me started thinking about singing in general and how humans got started making music. Was it the example of the birds? The sound of water rushing over rocks in a stream or the waves lapping at the shore? The rain dripping on a stone that gave a rhythm to the sound? Or maybe the wind whistling through the trees sometimes? Speaking of that, who first put (or found) holes in a hollow reed and called it a flute?
I’m sure musicians know the answers to these questions and more but, for my part, I’m just glad it all happened since I can’t imagine the world without music – from the greatest compositions to the simplest children’s songs. And here’s a reminder of a response to people who say they can’t sing: “God gave you that voice. Your responsibility is to give it back!” I encourage us all to listen to some music today and praise God by singing along.
Our most cherished annual gathering, to honor St. Joseph (feast day 3/19) and those Sisters celebrating a jubilee in religious life (40, 50, 60, 70, 75 years this time), was held yesterday. The liturgy was glorious and we “sang our hearts out!” As I thought of that turn of phrase this morning I felt more deeply the truth of our covenant with God as expressed in today’s first lectionary reading from Jeremiah 31:31-34.
Psalm 96 greets me this morning, encouraging me to sing, a prodding that will not be difficult to follow as I wake both to memories of yesterday and events of the day to come.
Today is the feast of St. Cecilia, a person remarkable for her holiness, her steadfastness and her love of music. It is always amazing to me that people in the 21st century are inspired by someone who lived in Rome in the second century of the Christian era. The story of Cecilia’s life is sketchy but heroic. She lived in the era of persecution of Christians and she and her husband Valerian spent themselves before their own martyrdom in burying those who had been murdered for their faith. In the 16th century, her body was exhumed and was found to be incorrupt. There’s much more to say but my interest today was in the number of musical compositions that have been named for her – from Handel’s Ode to St. Cecilia to Paul Simon’s popular “Cecilia” in the 1960s!
I grew up listening to my mother sing. She sang with my aunt in parish shows, at church services and at the piano at home. I have in my mind a picture of her in our wonderful deep rocking chair crooning my brother to sleep. (I’m sure she did the same for my sister and me – I just don’t remember it consciously.) One of my most cherished memories was of family “songfests” with my mother and father (who also loved to sing) at our family Christmases in the last decade of their lives. Not our best vocal presentations but captured on cassette tapes, “the Barton Family Singers” sang our hearts out with the simple joy of being together.
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