B
baxter112
Guest
This modern, secular life seems ultimately hopeless to me. I want very much to believe. Most of my life I have been searching for some meaning, and it seems I may have found it in the sounds and images of the liturgy.
Having spent all of my life in a predominantly Catholic community, I have picked up bits and pieces of the faith, but I know there are big gaps in my understanding. I am not a perfect person, not at all. I have a perhaps mistaken impression that the church wants well scrubbed nuclear family types, upwardly mobile with happy, well adjusted kids. None of my family, including my wife is interested in my spiritual quest and they would even discourage or laugh at my search.
However I have little interest in the Bible having unsuccessfully tried on a number of occasions to read it. I have no context for the names and places and it becomes very confusing. Biblical discussions and debates I have heard over the years are boring to me. Television preachers are a big turn off. Pastors such as John Hagee and Jimmy Swaggart are despicable to me. They seem like dumb hillbillies to me. The Catholic Mass is entirely different though. I love its dignity and majesty.
And I am very fond of the early liturgical pieces, especially of those in honor of Mary. Composed by Giovanni Palestrina and Thomas Tallis especially. I love the firm severe pace of their hymns, the recurring rhythms and praises. I can follow their reverent meaning adoringly, or I can forget their meaning and become engrossed in the solemn cadence of the verses and let myself be filled by them, by the deep, drawn out notes, the full sound of the vowels, the pious refrains. Deep down in my heart I have no love for scripture, bible verses or parables, although they too, have their beauty. My real love is for the sound and image world of the liturgy.
I have visited some of the great cathedrals of Europe and have been humbled by their loving artistry. I can look at a beautiful carved Madonna, and it takes my breath away. I can listen to a motet, “Ave Maria” by Josquin Du Pre and see the face of God.
Bruce
Having spent all of my life in a predominantly Catholic community, I have picked up bits and pieces of the faith, but I know there are big gaps in my understanding. I am not a perfect person, not at all. I have a perhaps mistaken impression that the church wants well scrubbed nuclear family types, upwardly mobile with happy, well adjusted kids. None of my family, including my wife is interested in my spiritual quest and they would even discourage or laugh at my search.
However I have little interest in the Bible having unsuccessfully tried on a number of occasions to read it. I have no context for the names and places and it becomes very confusing. Biblical discussions and debates I have heard over the years are boring to me. Television preachers are a big turn off. Pastors such as John Hagee and Jimmy Swaggart are despicable to me. They seem like dumb hillbillies to me. The Catholic Mass is entirely different though. I love its dignity and majesty.
And I am very fond of the early liturgical pieces, especially of those in honor of Mary. Composed by Giovanni Palestrina and Thomas Tallis especially. I love the firm severe pace of their hymns, the recurring rhythms and praises. I can follow their reverent meaning adoringly, or I can forget their meaning and become engrossed in the solemn cadence of the verses and let myself be filled by them, by the deep, drawn out notes, the full sound of the vowels, the pious refrains. Deep down in my heart I have no love for scripture, bible verses or parables, although they too, have their beauty. My real love is for the sound and image world of the liturgy.
I have visited some of the great cathedrals of Europe and have been humbled by their loving artistry. I can look at a beautiful carved Madonna, and it takes my breath away. I can listen to a motet, “Ave Maria” by Josquin Du Pre and see the face of God.
Bruce