On February 15th of this year (2018), I began composing the latest Opus (fancy word for collection) of Psalm Offerings. The overall theological concept behind these compositions was the Paschal Mystery, hence, the subtitle, “The Paschal Mystery Psalm Offerings”. I completed the last of the compositions two weeks ago (see the blogpost for Psalm Offering 9 Opus 9). All of the music has been registered with the U.S. Copyright Office. On Friday, I took a step to get the music into wider distribution through cdbaby.com. You can find it at this address, http://store.cdbaby.com/cd/deaconbobwagnerofs .
I wrote a commentary, complete with scriptural references, that has also been registered with the U.S. Copyright Office. The rationale for these Psalm Offerings is explained in this Introduction.
“At some moment in our lives, we will encounter God in what is best described as a “mystical experience.” I have had these moments, some of the most vivid during the birth of my children, in which I could sense the presence of God so distinctly I felt that if I would hold up my hand I would have been able to touch the face of God.
The most powerful mystical experience I have had in my life occurred during the summer of 1981. At the time, I was the music educator for St Wenceslaus Catholic School in New Prague. At the same time, I was the director of liturgical music. This required me to work 7 day weeks. By the time the school year ended in early June, I was experiencing extreme ministerial burnout. The problem was I didn’t know I was severely burnt out. All I knew was that I was incapable of feeling any kind of emotion, except perhaps, fear, because I did not know what was going on with me emotionally. I went to the public library and after some research discovered exactly what I had.
Just as the school year ended, I was immersed in graduate study. A couple of years earlier, I figured that if I was going to be a liturgical musician, I had better know something about what I was doing. I entered the Master of Arts Pastoral Study program at the College of St. Thomas. Because this was offered during the summer months, a whole semester of graduate study was compressed into six weeks with the first term paper (with annotated footnotes) due by the end of the first week. I found it very intense, challenging, gratifying, and wonderful. Classes would begin around 8:30 am/9 am and end sometime around 4 pm. I would get up early and travel the 45-50 minutes up to St. Paul and return home around 5 pm. In the summer of 1981, I was beginning my third summer in the program as I was suffering from this severe burnout.
The route I took from my home to New Prague to the college campus in St. Paul could best be described as many winding roads. The highway and county roads from my home matched the topographic detail of the land, rolling hills and lakes defining the path of the road, with mostly farmsteads, barns, acres of corn, soybeans, alfalfa, and pastures on either side of the road. The intersections with stop signs were far from ordinary, often requiring a right turn and then a left turn to continue the journey east to the freeway.
I remember one summer morning driving up to the campus. It was a bright, sunny day with brilliant blue skies. Overwhelmed and barely functioning because of the burnout, I was praying to God to take the burnout from me.
As I prayed, I suddenly found myself in a very dark and windy void. My body was being blown about in the wind and the only thing that kept me from being blown away into the darkness was a piece of white cloth that my right hand was clutching.
I looked to see what it was I was grasping and found that it was the hem of a white garment. As my eyes followed the path from my hand upward, I found myself staring into the face of the Resurrected Jesus who was dressed in a pure, white alb. Unlike the many crucifixes with a dead Jesus, hands and feet nailed to the wood of the cross, this was the glorified Jesus, alive with his arms and hands stretched out into this dark void. I looked into his eyes and softly said, “Help me!” He smiled at me and silently bent over, his right arm reaching down toward mine. His right hand grasped my right hand at the wrist and he began to pull me up toward him. Unlike the motion when one picks up a child, he didn’t pull me up onto himself, rather, he pulled me up inside of himself. I suddenly looked at my right hand and it was his hand. I realized that my eyes were looking at the world through his eyes. I looked down at his/my feet and I saw all these people hanging onto the hem of our alb, begging for help as they were blown about in this very, dark, windy space. His/my/our hand reached down and began to pull them up into ourself.
The vision suddenly ended and I found myself traveling north on the freeway, close to the city of Lakeville. I had traveled 17 miles on these winding roads, without destroying rows of corn and soybeans. no cows, sheep, or chickens maimed or killed, my car not submerged into the depths of one of the many lakes, and no colliding of my car with other vehicles. How I safely traveled this distance remains a complete mystery to me. All I knew was that when I emerged from this mystical state, I was completely healed from my burnout. I also knew what I would be doing for the rest of my life. It was after this I began to research what it meant to be a permanent deacon.
I have written about how the Paschal Mystery of Jesus is constantly present in the lives of his disciples. Every Easter Vigil, in his letter to the Romans, we hear St. Paul write to us that when we were baptized we were baptized into Christ Jesus’ passion and death. He then goes on to tell us that we are also baptized into his Resurrection. The path to the Resurrections in our lives is always through our passions and deaths. The very events that cause us suffering are also the source of our salvation and new life. My burnout, ironically, was the pathway to greater healing, greater self-knowledge, and greater purpose in my life. My burnout led me to an encounter with Jesus so powerful that it continues to alter, direct and influence my life to this very day.
This being said, suffering is not a virtue after which we should seek. Most of us try to avoid suffering for there is no joy in suffering. However, our human condition being what it is, suffering naturally finds us. The question that must ask in the midst of suffering is “What am I to learn from this?” Or, as a former pastor once asked me, “Where is the grace in all of this?” Asking these questions is far better than shaking our fist toward the heavens, cursing God and shouting, “Why me?” When we reflect on the suffering we are or have experienced, and search for the grace or learning we have gained from it, we will find that that suffering has been a catalyst from which we have grown closer to God.
The music in this collection is dedicated to people who have known suffering. However, through their suffering they have also experienced Resurrection. My mother in law, Rosemary, who struggled the last years of her life; my sister Mary Ruth, who endured 25 years of chronic illness; the many children, women and men gunned down viciously in our schools, shopping malls, theaters, and concerts. Then there are the people who I have known who continue to work and struggle through adversity and experience enough Resurrection, even though it may be a wee bit, to continue to persevere. Their names are all attached to these piano prayer songs.
As I composed the music, I reflected upon the scripture that was its inspiration. May this music be a doorway into a deeper reflection of your own Paschal Mystery.”
Deacon Bob Wagner OFS
Easter 2018
