St. Cecilia of Trastevere

24Jan
Oh fire of the Comforter Spirit,
life of all creation’s breath,
smoke out our dullness, anoint us,
turn us soft like wax in flame.
You are sweetness piercing iron hearts,
You, the furnace of love—
light us, bend us, make us sing.

-O ignis Spiritus Paracliti, Fire of the Holy Spirit, Counsellor
St. Hildegard of Bingen


This week, the lectionary for the Episcopal church recognizes the life of St. Cecilia of Trastevere in our Christian historical lore. St. Cecilia is known as the patron saint of musicians, choirs, and luthiers. Cecilia is venerated as the music-saint because, according to legend, she sang her dying prayers to Christ as she departed this life; martyred for the steadfastness of her faith. In my studio I am painting a portrait of my wife as St. Cecelia. It is an ode to her life as a musical voice for the Holy Spirit among us. I could paint similar odes to all the choir members and to our Choir Director, Paul Weber. Without fail, their devotion to their calling delivers. These are the saints who enflesh in sound, the power of the Holy Spirit. 


In this context it is imperative that I recognize Saint Hildegard of Bingen. More than legendary, her music lives among us. Hildegard saw music as a sacramental force that restored humanity’s pre-Fall harmony with God. Her poetry is disarmingly powerful; just what is needed to yank such as I, into a state of spiritual receptiveness. 


Honestly, I walk into worship services most Sundays with a hint of duty in my gait. I have usually been hiding in the school library, beginning work on the coming Saturday’s meditation. Often I have come up empty, which feeds my Impostor Syndrome. “Who am I to write this stuff?” I slip into a pew, feeling creatively stuck and inadequate. It is a common form of sin: The one where we question God’s ability to create excellence — in us. Don’t get me wrong; as I look around, everyone else is great. I’m just judging my insides against everyone else’s outsides.


Then the softening begins. Familiar prayers and chants traveling on notes, sung across a lifetime of healing memories; they echo on oak and painted glass pictures, first recorded in my childhood. The breath of a hundred fellow seekers shares the poetry and the warmth of forgiveness and reconciliation. The music cuts through our dullness and anoints us. We come into worship for this. We come to have Christ’s sweetness melt our veneer and soften our iron hearts. This is communal worship. It is The Church as family.


By the time we have shared the one cup and tasted the bread, we can pray together the Prayer of Thanksgiving, now believing in God’s given excellence, prepared to be the Church in the streets. 

 


Musical Reflection  - Hildegard of Bingen: O Fire Of The Holy Spirit (O ignis Spiritus paracliti)



Spirit of the Living God,

Fall afresh on me, Break me, melt me, mold me, fill me.

Spirit of the Living God, Fall afresh on me. Amen.

Saints

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