Singing the Exsultet

In just a few short weeks we will have arrived at Easter.  A highlight of the Easter Vigil is the singing of the Exsultet.  This long poem is a hymn to the candle and the light and celebrates, among other things, the bees who have given their wax to the creation of this pillar of light. 

The Exsultet is not easy to sing.  And especially, with a new translation this year, it is even more important that those who will be singing the Exsultet prepare themselves carefully.

In the recent issue of Pastoral Liturgy (published by LTP) Fr. John Mark Klaus, TOR, offers some practical suggestions for those preparing this important task:

• Listen to a recording.  LTP has a set of CDs with all of the chants of the Missal in two volumes.  The National Association of Pastoral Musicians (NPM) also has sound files which can be used as an aid in preparation.
• Begin practicing the Exsultet early.  Take one section each week.  This will not only help with learning but will help increase stamina which is necessary for effective singing.
• Find a good pitch in the middle of your voice range.  This might not be the pitch which is found in the Roman Missal.  As a bass I would not be able to sustain the higher register so I take it down to a pitch that is more comfortable and sustainable.

The Liturgical Press has published a beautiful book with the Exsultet and illuminated pages.  It is a beautiful, worthy book.  I will be using mine to prepare the Exsultet by meditating on both the music and the illuminations.  Here is the link to a sample of the pages.

http://litpress.org/excerpts/9780814633649.pdf

Bishop Quinn on his ad limina

Bishop Quinn, along with Bishop Harrington, and Fathers Colletti and Melvin celebrated Mass at the Church of St. Mary Major.  It is the largest church in the world dedicated to Mary.  It also contains a special relic.  Do you know what it is?  The crib of Jesus.

The Second Sunday of Lent -- Abraham our Father in Faith

On Thursday I was a part of performance of Benjamin Britten’s incredible work, War Requiem, at the University of Minnesota.  Composed for the 1962 dedication of the newly rebuilt Coventry Cathedral which was destroyed during World War II, it is a powerful reflection on war and faith.   The texts of the traditional Requiem Mass are interspersed with poetry by Wilfred Owen, a young poet who was killed in World War I.  During the Libera Me movement, Britten sets a poem which turns the story of Abraham and Isaac on its head.  It struck me, as I listened, that this poem is also a good metaphor for our reflection this Lent.  All too often, God provides us with every means that we need to be faithful and yet we turn our back on the gift.  We prefer to go our own way, to follow our own counsel.  Lent encourages us to listen to God and to take advantage of the graces that the Lord is pouring out on us to help us be faithful and holy.  Here is Owen’s poem. 

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets and trenched there,
And streched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! and angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.But the old man would not so,
but slew his son, -
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

Tweet, Tweet, here comes the Pope

The Vatican has announced that Pope Benedict will tweet a short reflection during Lent.  I might even have to sign up for Twitter for this one.

http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.news.va%2Fen%2Fnews%2Ffollow-the-pope-on-twitter-for-lent&h=6AQGstKUOAQFDsb1z1-9lttijnjMg5iqXCjqCbSp2DQQmzA

Lenten Fridays

In our parish, we pray the Stations of the Cross on Friday afternoon.  We had a wonderful turn out this week.  There is something about this devotion that I have always loved.  This year we relocated our Stations.  They had been grouped together in the transcepts and now we have hung them down the length of the nave.  It made for a nice pilgrimage path last night.

As a student at St. John's University I was a student of Fr. Henry Bryan Hayes.  He wrote the first part of an oratorio on the Stations of the Cross, incorporating poetry by Dorothy Schmenk which appeared in the National Catholic Reporter in 1978.  I have never been able to get my hands on the entire text but here is the meditation she writes on the Fourth Station:  Mary Sees Her Son.

My Son, my God,

I die your death

with you.

I offer you:

I give-to-God

Your life-in-me,

My life-in-you.

I do this gladly,

Yes -
Yet, gladly, too,
I would have you
Safe again:
My babe anew.
But, Son,
I'm proud of you!
My Perfect-one,
Holocausted now;
I've given you:
Placed you on
Life's altar,
Man of men,
God of God,
Mine, and his, and ours!
This is your day,
And I'm glad for you:
I'm glad for us;
I'm glad for God -
Though my heart church
In pain,
(Your pain is mine,
My Son, my God).
I die this death
with you. . .

The Feast of St. Polycarp of Smyrna

St. Polycarp is believed to have been a disciple of St. John the Evangelist and became the bishop of Smyrna which is in modern day Turkey.  He is believed to have had a hand in the compliation of the New Testament.  He died a martyr around 155 A.D. and is one of the first martyrs venerated by the Church.

In the Office of Readings today we have a section from the Acts of Martyrdom for St. Polycarp which paints a vivid picture of his final moments.  Tradition tells us that when the attempt to burn him failed he was stabbed to death.

 

"When the pyre was ready, Polycarp took off all his clothes and loosened his under-garment. He made an effort also to remove his shoes, though he had been unaccustomed to this, for the faithful always vied with each other in their haste to touch his body. Even before his martyrdom he had received every mark of honour in tribute to his holiness of life.

  There and then he was surrounded by the material for the pyre. When they tried to fasten him also with nails, he said: “Leave me as I am. The one who gives me strength to endure the fire will also give me strength to stay quite still on the pyre, even without the precaution of your nails.” So they did not fix him to the pyre with nails but only fastened him instead. Bound as he was, with hands behind his back, he stood like a mighty ram, chosen out for sacrifice from a great flock, a worthy victim made ready to be offered to God.

  Looking up to heaven, he said: “Lord, almighty God, Father of your beloved and blessed Son Jesus Christ, through whom we have come to the knowledge of yourself, God of angels, of powers, of all creation, of all the race of saints who live in your sight, I bless you for judging me worthy of this day, this hour, so that in the company of the martyrs I may share the cup of Christ, your anointed one, and so rise again to eternal life in soul and body, immortal through the power of the Holy Spirit. May I be received among the martyrs in your presence today as a rich and pleasing sacrifice. God of truth, stranger to falsehood, you have prepared this and revealed it to me and now you have fulfilled your promise.

  “I praise you for all things, I bless you, I glorify you through the eternal priest of heaven, Jesus Christ, your beloved Son. Through him be glory to you, together with him and the Holy Spirit, now and for ever. Amen.”

  When he had said “Amen” and finished the prayer, the officials at the pyre lit it. But, when a great flame burst out, those of us privileged to see it witnessed a strange and wonderful thing. Indeed, we have been spared in order to tell the story to others. Like a ship’s sail swelling in the wind, the flame became as it were a dome encircling the martyr’s body. Surrounded by the fire, his body was like bread that is baked, or gold and silver white-hot in a furnace, not like flesh that has been burnt. So sweet a fragrance came to us that it was like that of burning incense or some other costly and sweet-smelling gum."

Ash Wednesday

Sorry for the long delay in posting.  The period after Christmas was a little time for a break and I just never got back on the blogging horse.  I hope to be more faithful during Lent.  To get us off on a rousing start here is the Pope's homily at the first Stational Church of the Lenten Season, Santa Sabina.

http://www.news.va/en/news/pope-homily-at-santa-sabina

The Stational Churches during Lent are ancient churches that are assigned to a day of Lent.  The faithful gather for prayer, litanies and Mass.  As a seminarian I had the blessing of being able to partcipate each year.  Although I was never a fan of getting up early in those days, it became an important discipline in my life to make the effort.  We often would walk if the church were not to far distant which became a kind of daily mini-pilgrimage. 

Today the Holy Father began at the church in the monastary of St. Anselm which is on the Aventine Hill and just a block or so from Santa Sabina and led a procession to the main church.  This was traditional in earlier times as part of the Lenten Stational Churches.