Before the Planetry REQUIEM

If scientists are right (see Nature), by 2020 the first effects of Climate Departure should already be a part of the human experience.

In light of both science and faith, Shepherd of the Hill Presbyterian Church in Chaska, MN is issuing this invitation in anticipation of Earth Day, 2020, in hopes it will catch on. The Call is conceived by visual artist and scientist John Lince-Hopkins, a member of Shepherd of the Hill:

EARTH DAY
Wednesday, April 22, 2020

A GLOBAL CALL TO CREATIVE PEOPLE OF ALL TYPES TO CREATE, PERFORM, AND DISPLAY THEIR BEST WORKS:
COMPOSERS,
MUSICIANS,
MUSICAL GROUPS,
RECORDING ARTISTS,
AUTHORS,
POETS,
VISUAL ARTISTS,
PHOTOGRAPHERS,
VIDEOGRAPHERS,
FIBER ARTISTS,
PERFORMANCE ARTISTS,
DANCERS,
…AND THOSE UN-NAMED.

JUST SEVEN SHORT YEARS TO CREATE SEMINAL WORKS ABOUT THE STATE OF OUR PLANET AND OUR REALIZATION OF THE INEVITABLE CONSEQUENCES OF OUR CLIMATE TO ALL LIVING THINGS AND THE ECOSYSTEMS THAT SUPPORT THEM.

Think Globally, Act Locally!

Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Pie Jesu” in a Child’s Voice

Akim Camara

Akim Camara

This child’s innocence – his eyes, his voice, his face, his courage, his trust – takes us to our deepest selves in the presence of the Sacred. Sit back and watch Akim Camara, hand-in-hand with Carla Maffioletti, singing Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Pie Jesu”.

“Pie Jesu” means “Merciful/kind Jesus”; in its context in the Latin Requiem Mass, it calls on “the Lamb of God” to show mercy to the suffering. Kindness and mercy are at the heart of spirituality.

The text has an interesting history. The “Pie Jesu” is an ancient motet based on the last couplet of the “Dies Irae” (“Day of Wrath”) that was part of the old Latin Requiem Mass. The Vatican II liturgical reforms removed the “Dies Irae” from the Mass in order to emphasize Christian hope. A number of composers, among them Andrew Lloyd Webber – influenced by Gabriel Faure’s “Pie Jesu” – gave new musical expression to the prayer: “Kind/merciful Lord Jesus, grant them rest. Kind/merciful Lord Jesus, grant them rest eternal.” BTW, Faure’s Requiem includes the “Dies Irae” which has become part of the Good Friday period of meditation at Shepherd of the Hill, not because God is wrathful, but because we so often have reason to cry out “Libera Me!” from the depths of terror and desolation.

For the Grieving Parents of Moore

In times of great tragedy and sorrow, I often turn to the “Pie Jesu” of Gabriel Faure’s Requiem. Our hearts are broken with you.

A grief expressed

How does one give expression to the depth of horror that follows the death of a son or daughter, as in the case of David’s lament for Absalom? (See sermon “Holy Tears: David, Absalom…and Us” posted here yesterday.)  Percy Bysshe Shelley expresses it in poetry.

O World! O Life! O Time!
On whose last steps I climb,
Trembling at that where I had stood before;
When will return the glory of your prime?
No more -Oh, never more!

Out of the day and night
A joy has taken flight:
Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar
Move my faint heart with grief, but with delight
No more -Oh, never more!

But music, the language of the soul, best expresses the cry from the depths, the prayer from the abyss for help for the helpless. In such moments of loss – and in the spiritual discipline of Good Friday reflection – I listen to “Libera Me” from Gabriel Faure’s Requiem. So soulful. So honest. Real. Vulnerable. Pleading. A primal but lovely cry, given voice from the depths by a great composer.

To turn away from beauty

    “Requiem” by Eliza Gilkeyson,

arranged for choir

by Craig Hella Johnson,

sung by The Chorale in Vienna

 

She had come to the church to worship God,

to hear a touring choir sing classics  with

some spirituals–she thought the choir was good.

 

The young liturgical dancer was lithe,

quite serious as she embodied grief

and bafflement at death from tsunami,

earthquake, and flood.

 

The choir prayed for relief,

for understanding from Mother Mary.

 

The worshiper, offended by the dance,

looked at the floor, her eyes narrow and hard,

her jaw was clenched, her lips were white and thin.

 

In choir and congregation there were tears

in sympathy with grieving mother, child…

 

To turn away from beauty is a sin.

– Steve Shoemaker, on tour, Vienna, Austria, June 12, 2012