Month: December 2021

47 years ago, Ruthie and I got married at St Bridget of Sweden Catholic Church in Lindstrom, Minnesota. On that day, what I wanted the most in my life happened when Ruthie and I exchanged our vows. I am sure the wedding lasted 60 minutes, but I was so caught up in the what was happening in my life, the time passed so very quickly.

Ruthie was the first in her family to be married. Ten years after we had been married, she told me that as her parents escorted her up the aisle, her dad kept on telling her, “You can get out of this if you want to. I won’t be mad.” It was a good thing Ruthie waited until her dad and I were good friends before she told me that anecdote. Truth be told, I totally understood why he said that. His beautiful daughter was getting married to a newly graduated music major, whose only job was as an x-ray aide at Miller Hospital (I was a glorified wheel chair jockey). I wouldn’t have a full-time teaching position for another 9 months. In many ways, I was still a bit of a screw up who was head over heels in love with his daughter. This Christmas, I wrote him thanking him for allowing me to marry his daughter.

Remembering our wedding in 2011, I wrote this poem.

The moment for which I have waited
from the time I first proposed to you,
arrives like music on the air.
Chosen scriptures read,
homily preached, all unnoticed,
unheard by me, so utterly
captivated am I by you
kneeling at my side.
I pinch myself, “Am I dreaming?
Is it really you next to me
and not some hologram?
Is the culmination of al
for which I have wished
and hoped, actually happening?”
We stand and as the priest
says, “repeat after me,”
you begin, “I, Ruth, take you Bob
for my husband …”
Rings placed on proffered fingers,
the mutual signaculum
of covenantal love.
A kiss seals the covenant,
life takes on the dream.

© 2011. Deacon Bob Wagner. All rights reserved.

Having gotten married at 7 pm on a Friday evening, by the time the wedding, the dinner, and reception was over, it was nearly midnight before we started the drive up to the Duluth Radisson. It was bitterly cold out, Nixon had imposed a strict 55 mph speed limit, so it was a good 2 hours prior to our getting to Duluth. Every time I was tempted to speed, a Highway Patrol would enter the freeway and tail us. This occurred the entire trip up to Duluth. Gad! Ruthie had worked the night shift the day of our wedding and had only gotten a couple hours of sleep before she needed to get ready for the wedding. She thankfully got a couple of hours of sleep in the car on the cold ride up to Duluth.

Only able to afford to stay at the Radisson in Duluth for a couple of nights, we tried to make the most of our stay. At the time, our favorite alcoholic beverage was rum and coke. With a quart of rum and a 2 liter bottle of coke, and the ice machine down the hallway, we had plenty to drink at little cost. Ruthie did introduce me to real Chinese Food on our honeymoon. Prior to this, my only knowledge of Chinese food was the Choy Mein served at a school lunch. I was in 2nd grade and refused to eat it. I told the nun that it looked like someone threw-up on a plate. After reminding me that poor children in China were starving, and making me miss noon recess, while I looked at the disgusting mess on my plate, it soured any curiosity about ever having any Chinese cuisine again.

We walked in the -25 degree weather to the Chinese Lantern. The restaurant all decked out in red and black decor. Needless to say, given my prior experience with Chow Mein, I was apprehensive about having any Chinese food. Ruthie convinced me to try sweet and sour pork. OMG! Was that tasty! Far better than that crap I had been served as a second grader. I have always stated that it is Ruthie who introduces me to the best in the world, and that first taste of Chinese was just a beginning of a love for Chinese food.

The one feature of the Duluth Radisson is a revolving restaurant on the top of the hotel. It was a very pricey meal, but a very classy and delicious meal. As we enjoyed our meal we were given a panoramic view of Duluth. Many years later, we continue to travel to Duluth (now in the warmer months), to stay at the Radisson and to eat at the top of the Radisson.

As the picture, above, illustrates, it was not all lovemaking and eating and drinking. We still wanted to make some time for entertainment. Part of that entertainment was playing double solitaire. In Ruthie’s family, a major form of entertainment is playing cards. The preferred family game is 500, and at the time we got married, her dad was really into playing double solitaire. Over the years, different card games and other games come into vogue. For a while Yahtzee was huge. Now, the game is one called Golf.

While dating, Saturday was date night and on most date nights we went to see a movie. Knowing we would be eating at the top of the Radisson that night, we decided to see a matinee. At that time, Duluth was in a bit of a depression. There were only three movie theaters. The big Miller Hill Mall with its cineplex had yet to be built. The three movies playing in Duluth the weekend of December 27th, 1974 were: 1)Deep Throat; 2) The Devil in Miss Jones; and, 3) Winnie the Pooh, and Tigger, Too! What to see, what to see. We had the choice of two pornographic movies and a Disney cartoon movie (though it did have an old black and white Zorro feature before the cartoon). Which film did we see? Was it Linda Lovelace in her memorable role? Was it Marilyn Chambers in another one of her memorable roles? Or was it Tigger? The answer is … “the wonderful thing about Tiggers, are Tiggers are wonderful things …”.

For our tenth wedding anniversary, with three children, Andy, Luke, and Meg, and awaiting the birth of our fourth child, Beth (on Jan 11th), we couldn’t afford to do anything special for our wedding anniversary. Our meals out were pretty much confined to A&W, and frozen pizzas. So to commemorate our wedding anniversary, I composed this song for Ruth.

For those in the musical know, a fugue is a short two measure melody that gets repeated over and over in different ways. It is a joyous, celebratory fugue, done more in the style of Aaron Copland (think his ballet Appalachian Spring). I enjoy it still to this day. FYI, even in slow part, the fugue is repeated but in a form called augmentation in which the fugue melody is slowed down a lot. Where is it, in the low notes of the left hand. Well, that’s enough music nerd stuff.

Happy Anniversary my bride!

There was a wonderful article about the Capra movie, “It’s A Wonderful Life”, in the Star Tribune this morning. The movie was released in 1946, one year after the end of World War II. While it was reasonably received by the movie critics at the time, it was not as well received by the public. In fact, in terms of money, it was a flop, not breaking even with the cost of making the film. Not even the star power of the film, Jimmy Stewart, Donna Reed, Lionel Barrymore, could produce the profits needed to make the movie popular.

Why did it flop?

First, it is a dark film.

Unlike many other Christmas films made at the time, e.g. “Going My Way”, “The Bells of St. Mary’s”, “Holiday Inn”, “Miracle on 34th Street”, it is not a happy film. People generally go to movies to be entertained, not depressed. It mattered not to audiences, that in the movie, “Holiday Inn”, that Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire are dancing and singing Irving Berlin tunes around in black face at an inn that Crosby owns and only opens on national holidays. Something like that film would be viewed as offensive these days. All that mattered to audiences at that time was happy songs that could be danced to and hummed by them. (Note: the song, “White Christmas” debuted in that film.) People wanted happy endings. Why?

The Christmases from 1914 to 1946 had been consistently very “dark” Christmases.

World War I, the war that was to end all wars, killed over 16 million people. The Spanish Flu killed over 50 million people world wide in 1918. These two world tragedies were followed by a world wide depression that lasted many, many years, throwing families into destitution. Farmers lost their farms throughout the United States because of the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl. Just when the world began to lift itself out of the darkness of the Great Depression, the world, and the United States, were plunged into the horrific violence and genocide of World War II. Darkness was a major part of people’s lives.

I remember my mother, growing up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, telling me that the Steel Mills of Pittsburgh were running day and night at such a high pace during World War II (making the steel needed to construct weaponry for the war effort), that the pollution was so thick in that city, you could barely see the sky because of the smog that hung over the city. Imagine for a moment living in a city in which the air was so befouled it was hard to breathe, and a sunny day was rare. Might you get depressed? Of course you would.

So, with multiple decades of dark Christmases, is it any wonder that “It’s A Wonderful Life” was not greatly embraced by people?

We must remember is that the movie is about a man who is contemplating suicide at Christmas. An angel is sent to earth to try and steer this man from dying by suicide. In its telling, a review of the man’s life from the time he was a little boy is reviewed. We see how he always put others first before himself. We see how he sacrificed his dreams to serve others. We also see how he despairs when he finds that his chief rival is ready to ruin the man and his young family. The man decides that he is worth more being dead, rather than being alive. The last third of the film is dark indeed when he experiences what the world would have been without him being in it. Thankfully, he realizes that his assumption about his life being worthless was wrong, and the angel restores him back into the world.

Even though there are light, wonderful Frank Capraesque moments in the film, it is essentially a dark, and moody film. After all that people had suffered for decades, they would rather have lighthearted fare like Holiday Inn, with all its racist undertones, and happy, light tunes that everyone could whistle and to which they could tap dance.

The “Good Old Days”

The comedian, W. C. Fields, was fond of saying, “Ah, the good old days. May they never return.” What Fields observed is that it is easy to look back fondly on past days with a degree of sappy nostalgia, ignoring the reality of what it was REALLY like during those “good old days.”

At the risk of sounding fatalistic, I contend that there never was a time when everyone was at ease and there were no problems or concerns. As just the history from 1914 to 1946 points out, human life always has had its challenges. While we may nostalgically look back at our own “Christmas Story”, when we were hoping to get our Red Ryder BB gun, those times were filled with all the struggles we have today.

Let’s take the movie, “Christmas Story”, as an example. While Ralphie’s big concern was not getting beat up by the bullies of his school and neighborhood and he wanted that Red Ryder BB gun, in the real world of that time, the Korean War was being fought and many of his classmates were getting infected by Polio, that is, until that time it was mandated by the government that all kids get vaccinated with the Salk vaccine.

As a baby boomer, I grew up with the spectre of nuclear holocaust over my head. We had Nuclear Explosion drills in our schools, in which we would get below our desks and put our heads between our knees, covering our heads with our hands, as if that would protect us from being instantly incinerated by the fire storm caused by a hydrogen bomb. As a kid, I lived with the fear of a nuclear war for many years. The very real threat of nuclear annihilation is present in the World War III song, that satirist and musician, Tom Leher composed and performed in 1961, “So long mom, I’m off to drop the bomb, so don’t wait up for me.”

After the Cuban Missile Crises was thankfully resolved, and the Soviet Union pulled its missiles from Cuba, we replaced that crises with the very long, very bloody, very costly Vietnam War. That War hung over the heads of all young people throughout all the Christmases of that time. I remember as a teenager being in church on Christmas Day. The woman sitting next to me in the pew wept throughout the Christmas Mass. Why? She had just received news from the War Department that her son was killed in Vietnam on Christmas Eve. I remember another very dark Christmas during my Sophomore year in College waiting to hear whether I was going to be drafted to fight in that war (I nobly declined a student deferment to be in solidarity with many of those my age who were not in college). It was a time when who was being drafted was decided by the lottery. My number was not chosen by the draft board.

We keep on trying to find a time when there was no hardship in the world at Christmas, but it seems that as one crises ends, another takes its place. In the 1980’s we had the HIV pandemic. That hit many of my liturgist/liturgical musicians in church music very hard, many of whom died from HIV during the 1980’s and 1990’s. We just ended over twenty years of war in Afghanistan and Iraq. How many Christmases were adversely affected by that never ending, poorly run war?

And now, we are facing our second Christmas under the cloud of Covid-19 and its many manifestations. Many feel so hopeless. Many wish for the good old days when Covid-19 was not here. With what decade would you like to replace it? 1914 to 1918 when people were dying on the battlefields of France in World War I? 1918 to 1919, when over 50 million died from the Spanish Flu? 1929 – 1939 when the world fell into the Great Depression? 1940-1945, when the world was immersed into the blood bath of World War II? 1950 to 1953, when many American lost their lives in the Korean War, and children and adults were being infected by Polio? Would you want to go back to the threat of nuclear annihilation of the Cold War period, the Vietnam War, HIV pandemic? No matter where we turn, each decade with all its Christmases have, for want of a better word, sucked.

There is no perfect Christmas.

I sit here in my chair, writing this reflection, with my broken right foot elevated and with a breakthrough Covid infection. Many years of church ministry have taught me that there is no “perfect Christmas”. That is the primary lesson from the Christmas movie, “Christmas Vacation.” Clark Griswold, in that film, is trying to manipulate his family into having the perfect Christmas, which he entitles, “The Griswold Family Christmas.” For those of us who know the film well, all his plans for the perfect Christmas blow up in his face … with great comic effect.

One of the hardest days for me in church ministry was Christmas Eve/Christmas Day. I told people I would take Holy Week with all its multiple liturgies over one Christmas Eve/Christmas Day. By the last Mass, and the last “Merry Christmas”, I was emotionally, spiritually, and physically exhausted. Scrooge’s sentiment about people being buried with a stake of holly through their hearts and boiled in their own pudding, was one with which I could resonate by the last Mass on Christmas Day. That is why when I returned home my beautiful bride would have a drink with brandy, sweet vermouth, a couple of cherries, and a few ice cubes prepared for me so that I could unwind.

The Christmas Season is a very busy time for funerals. Many of “The Twelve Days of Christmas” could often be filled with funerals, as those with terminal illnesses would target Christmas Day as a goal to be met before they would die. There were many December 26th funerals over 42 years of ministry. I once had five wakes and five funerals in a row immediately following the liturgies of Christmas. With many in my family working in hospitals and nursing homes, it was rare for any of my family to not be at work on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

In fact, it was at the last Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve I played, that I decided to retire from active ministry. Two of my mentors in the diaconate died suddenly from heart attacks preparing to celebrate Midnight Mass. I thought to myself that last Christmas Eve night I played, “I’ll be damned if I will die getting ready for Midnight Mass.” And, so, made the decision to retire on June 30th of 2019.

The Lesson of It’s A Wonderful Life? Hope in the midst of darkness.

What a movie like “Its’ A Wonderful Life” teaches us and why it is so pertinent to us today, is that the one thing that is constant and shared in the lives of all human beings is darkness at this time of year. However, as dark and dreary and scary as this time of year may be for us, hope is not extinct but very much present.

We all know that historically, Jesus was not born on December 25th. Historians and astronomers have pinpointed the birth of Jesus around the time we celebrate Easter, at the birthing of the lambs. Christianity established the 25th of December initially as a response to the pagan bacchanalias celebrating the lengthening of daylight following the Winter Solstice. Theologically, the early Christians used nature as a metaphor to illustrate that just as in nature, daylight begins to lengthen minute by minute at this time of year, the light of Christ pierced the darkness and violence of human life in all of human history. At the time of Christ’s birth, Judea was feeling the darkness and oppression of the occupying Roman army and the Roman Empire.

The darkness that we are experiencing now is no different than that suffered by our parents, our grandparents, and the myriad amount of people in our family ancestry. As we sit with the threat of Covid and its new incarnation, Omicron, as I sit looking at surgery in the new year and the long recovery following that surgery, I feel hope. The love of God, incarnated in Christ at Christmas, is very much present in those I have around me who love me.

The other lesson that “It’s A Wonderful Life” teaches us, is that it is very important to reach out to those who are experiencing darkness, experiencing hopelessness and be the light of Christ to them. As others incarnate Christ’s light and love to us, so must we also, incarnate Christ’s love and light to those who feel unloved.

My first Christmas Eve at St Stephen’s Catholic Church in South Minneapolis.

St Stephen’s was a parish that based its parish mission on the Social Justice Doctrine of the Catholic Church. Up to the last few years, when the parish abandoned its outreach to many of the poor and homeless in the inner city of Minneapolis, St Stephen’s was noted for its outreach to the homeless, running a homeless shelter for over 40 years, and providing services to all who lived on the street. Those who worshiped at St Stephen’s were often broken people when they came, but the welcome of Christ, embodied by the church community, brought healing and wholeness to their lives. I remember a homosexual parishioner who said to me that prior to becoming a parishioner at St Stephen’s, he was contemplating suicide, believing the lies often spoken by the leaders of religions about his sexual orientation. At St Stephen’s, he discovered that God loved him dearly and accepted him just as he had been created.

This one Christmas Eve, at the Children’s Mass, a homeless man showed up at church. He wore a vividly colored purple suit. He also was intoxicated. He came and sat in the front pew and wept throughout the Mass. It was a cold winter night, and he had no place to stay. Because the parish’s homeless shelter was filled, and one of the requirements to stay at the shelter was that those staying had to be sober and not using drugs, this man could not stay there. New to the parish, I did not know how to respond to this poor man. I reached out to a gay couple at church with their young children. I remember one of the men, a social worker, approaching the homeless man following Mass and sat down with him. He listened to the woes of the homeless man who them embraced him wept on the gay man’s shoulder. After consultation with his partner, they decided to place aside the plan they had made with their children, and then took the homeless man with them to find him shelter for the night. This gay family incarnated the light and love of Christ to a homeless man desperate for love.

Conclusion

Yes, these times are very dark in the world due to illness, political unrest, economic unrest, and so many other factors that are a part of our present lives. But the light and love of God continues to reaches through that darkness awaiting us to receive and to grasp.

All the readings for today proclaim the same concept. For God, greatness does not emerge from among the powerful, the rich, and the mighty. Rather, it is from the most insignificant, the least powerful from which greatness emerges.

From the prophet Micah (5:1-4a), we hear: “You, Bethlehem-Ephrathah too small to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me  one who is to be ruler in Israel.” In Hebrews (10:5-10), we hear: When Christ came into the world, he said: “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but a body you prepared for me; in holocausts and sin offerings you took no delight. Then I said, ‘As is written of me in the scroll, behold, I come to do your will, O God.’“ And in the Gospel, we hear the story of a pregnant teenage Mary going to visit and assist her very aged, and very pregnant cousin, Elizabeth. It is of this very humble, very powerless young teenager, that Elizabeth acclaims, “Blessed are you among women,

and blessed is the fruit of your womb. … Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”

What is not included in the Gospel is Mary’s response to Elizabeth, which we call the Canticle of Mary. In her response, Mary acknowledges her lowliness and insignificance and marvels that God selected her to be the God-bearer. And, like Hannah many centuries before, Mary reiterates that the mighty, the rich, and the powerful will be deposed by God, and, in their place God will raise the lowly and insignificant to places of power (Luke 1:46-55).

As will be related in the liturgies of Christmas, Jesus is not born from a rich and powerful Judean family, but is born poor, in a stable filled with animals, of poor, refugee parents. When Jesus emerges to begin his public ministry, it is not from the capital of Jerusalem, but from the backwater village of Nazareth, a village that is considered by the elite of his time as a place of disrepute.

What we are reminded in today’s readings is that God accepts us in our own state of lowliness. In spite of the brokenness we may have in our lives; in spite of the sins or addictions with which we struggle daily, it is from our own brokenness, our own insignificance that God calls us forth to serve God and others. It is not important as to whether we think we are worthy or good enough to be called, but rather, what is important is that God deems us worthy to be called and to serve.

What is required of us? The Psalmist tells us in Psalm 51(8-10a, 18-19). “Behold, you desire true sincerity; and secretly you teach me wisdom. Cleanse me with hyssop, that I may be pure; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. You will let me hear gladness and joy; For you do not desire sacrifice or I would give it; a burnt offering you would not accept. My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit; a contrite, humbled heart, O God, you will not scorn.”

Jesus will remind us later as he begins his public life that if we desire to be great, we must first be the servant of others. The first in this life, will be the last in the eyes of God, and the last and lowly in this life God will place first.

As we prepare this week to celebrated the Incarnation of Jesus, let us cast aside the notion that we are not worthy enough to take part in the celebration of Christmas. The time has come for us to shuck away from us our preconceived notions of greatness and power. We are reminded that God sets the human order of significance and importance on its ear. In God’s schema, greatness emerges only from those who are humble and lowly. Let us prepare ourselves accordingly.

This Sunday we celebrate the 3^rd Sunday of Advent, traditionally known as Rejoice Sunday. In comparison to the more somber readings of the past two Sundays, these readings are filled with hope. At this darkest time of year, with the world reeling from another variant of Covid-19, the political disruption and violence in our nation, as more and more facts are being revealed about the January 6^th insurrection, the rise of murder and and other acts of violence in our communities, we are in desperate need for hope.

Zephaniah and Paul remind us in their readings (Zep 3:14-18a and Phil 4:4-7), that, in the midst of the violence in our fractured society, as much as we may think that God has abandoned us, and we may feel like throwing our hands up in despair, we must instead find joy. God is always present to us. This is a theme that is repeated throughout scripture, e.g. Psalm 23. Through all the difficulty, through all the hardships, terrors, violence, and illness, God is always present to us. We do not journey through the darkness and danger in our lives alone. Our God always walks with us. The Incarnation of Jesus is in itself that God loved us so much so as to be one with us. In my own life, facing another surgery with all its discomforts and challenges, I am feeling exasperated, frightened, despondent, and angry. However, my faith tells me that I will not face this alone. God is with me through it all, and it is to this hope and knowledge to which I cling.

The message of John the Baptist in Luke’s account tells us that in order for us to see the presence of Christ in our lives, we need to shuck off all that encumbers us from realizing his presence. For the tax collectors it was to not cheat people for their own gain, for soldiers, it was to stop extorting people, or accusing them falsely of crimes. As we reflect on our own lives, the question we need to ask ourselves is what is it in our lives that prevents us from feeling the joy of Christ’s presence? Whatever it might be, the time has come for us to jettison whatever it is, out of our lives. In doing this, we will not only feel the joy of Christ in our lives, but that joy will be revealed to all we encounter.

INTRODUCTION

This past summer with an increasing number of people receiving vaccinations against Covid-19, I thought, as did many, that the pandemic was finally behind us. Then, the Delta Variant hit decimating the South, and, now, the State of Minnesota.

What the Delta Variant and the new Omicron Variant is illustrating vividly, is that this pandemic is anything but over. With a population still refusing to get vaccinated, people not only continue to get infected, spread infection, and die from infection, but continue to churn out new variants of Covid-19. With the Delta variant infecting and killing people as readily as the initial surge of Covid-19, Ruthie and I have returned to donning our masks in public places, even though we are fully vaccinated and have received our Covid booster shot.

I think that it is this Deja Vu experience of these new variants that have raised within me an awareness of how I have responded to the initial experience of Covid-19. Not surprisingly, I responded to the horror, the uncertainty of life, the anxiety and the isolation caused by the pandemic by composing music. In my present retrospection, I have found a burst of creativity in my life during those initial months of the pandemic, from the months of March through September. This is what I am presenting here.

MUSIC AND ART REFLECTING THE HISTORIC ERA

Music. art, and literature always reflect what is occurring in human history. Wars, political unrest, world wide pestilences and plagues, are the reference points for much of the great art created. For instance, Boccaccio’s Decameron was written during the Bubonic Plague raging through Italy. Beethoven initially composed the Eroica Symphony in response to Napoleon’s war of aggression in Europe. Chopin, in one night, composed the “Revolutionary” Etude, the music reflecting the composers great anger at the invasion of his native Poland. Shostakovitch, composed his 7th Symphony in Leningrad as Nazi Germany was raining shells and bombs on the besieged city. Shostakovich later dedicated the symphony to the 27 million Russians who lost their lives fighting Nazi Germany in World War II.

In popular music, all we need do is listen to the music of the 1960’s to see how violence of that era, from the deaths of the innocent in Civil Rights marches throughout the United States, the assassinations of JFK, RFK, Malcom X, Martin Luther King and others throughout the world, to the horrors of the Vietnam War, transformed the music of that decade.

The year of 2020 has been one of the worse years experienced by the world in recent history. In the United States alone, the incompetence and mismanagement of the pandemic by President Trump and his administration led to the deaths of over 500,000 Americans, the subsequent shutdown of much of human life, an economy in a tailspin, and the politicization of the pandemic from the same administration. Throughout all of 2020 there was heightened anxiety and desperation experienced emotionally by all Americans in the United States.

As if the pandemic and the incompetent response was not enough, it was also an election year. People were already in a fragile state without all the political rhetoric that accompanies all election campaigns, the plethora of negative campaign ads, and the dissemination of lies and false information. In the middle of all this negativity, came the murder of George Floyd by Minneapolis police, with its subsequent protests throughout the whole world, and the violence caused by extremists on both the political right and political left. QAnon’s lies were running rampant among the ill-informed, and the refusal of President Trump to acknowledge he lost the election, fueled more lies, more angst, more anger and more violence that eventually led to the Insurrection on January 6th, 2021. Is it any wonder people are emotionally and spiritually scarred and exhausted by the chaos of 2020?

Beginning March of 2020 and completed at the end of September of 2020, I composed 55 piano songs that I now see as my visceral response to these events, specifically the pandemic, of 2020. What follows is summary of the music I composed and the inspiration behind the compositions. As I reread what I had written at the time I composed the music, I find it as relevant today as it was when I wrote it.

I have included the MP3 of each song composed. You can also listen to the music for free on YouTube, stream the music on Pandora and other streaming services, and buy digital recordings of all the music on iTunes and Amazon Music. All music, all text, and all poems in this post are owned and copyrighted (c) 2020, by me, Robert Charles Wagner.

FROM THE LIPS OF BABES AND CHILDREN

I composed all the music on the album, From the Lips of Babes and Children in the month of March, 2020. I felt compelled to compose this music as a response to the panic and the general lack of control many people were feeling in response to the great death and suffering of people of people by Covid-19 in the North East, with New York City, Boston, and other areas of New England, and in California and the State of Washington.

The pictures of mass graves on Hart Island, off the coast from New York City, that received the countless number of human remains occupying the refrigerator trucks outside New York City hospitals were haunting. Another haunting memory was President Trump’s refusal to allow the docking of a cruise ship in which all people on board were suffering and dying of Covid 19, because it “looked bad” for Trump. Trump finally being forced to capitulate and allow the cruise ship to dock. The news reports from pandemic ravaged Seattle were especially grim and sobering.

Under this cloud of despair, were the valiant stories and efforts of medical personnel fighting a virus we knew very little about and trying to stave off the imminent deaths of so many people. Many of these doctors and nurses ended up dying from the pandemic themselves. A veil of malaise settled upon the nation early in March of 2020. This was only made greater by the lack of leadership on the part of our government leaders, beginning with the President, who sought to reassure people by saying the pandemic would end as the weather got warmer, and the virus could be ended by people ingesting Lysol and bleach. Equally unsettling was the genuine lack of support and compassion by many of our religious leaders.

My intention for the music on From the Lips of Babes and Children was to help quiet the anxiety and uncertainty people were experiencing in their lives.

Here are the songs on the album:

How Lovely Is Your Dwelling Place (mistakenly identified as God’s Love Be With You on the digital release). This is a setting of my favorite psalm, Psalm 84

Prelude – For Those Who Are Suffering, was composed as a musical prayer for the victims of Covid-19 trapped on the cruise ship off the coast of San Francisco.

A Song of Francis to Brother Leo, was based on the comforting short letter Francis of Assisi gave to his traveling companion, Brother Leo.

“Brother Leo, health and peace from Brother Francis!

I am speaking, my son, in this way—as a mother would—because I am putting everything we said on the road in this brief message and advice. If, afterwards, you need to come to me for counsel, I advise you thus: In whatever way it seems better to you to please the Lord God and to follow His footprint and poverty, do it with the blessing of the Lord God and my obedience. And if you need and want to come to me for the sake of your soul or for some consolation, Leo, come.”

From the Lips of Babes and Children, based on Psalm 8, is meant to convey the utter trust of children in God, and God’s loving care for all who are vulnerable.

The Book of Job Blues, was composed as a musical prayer for those suffering from a general feeling of despair, using the story of Job as the inspiration, and composed more in the style of George Gershwin.

We Do Well To Sing To Your Name is based on Psalm 92. It is an acknowledgement of how all things that God creates are good, and that God cares for all of Creation.

Waltz for John and Elaine Harty was a music memorial to my good friend and colleague, John Harty, who died early on from a long illness during the opening days of the pandemic. John and I were educators at St Wenceslaus School many years ago.

Seeds That Fall on Good Ground, is based on Psalm 65, which speaks on how God blesses the crops and the animals. I composed this for my good friends, Deacon Len and Ellie Shambour. Len and Ellie have been farmers all their lives and have been wonderful stewards of the land.

A Frolic for Floyd, Henri, and Belle I composed to honor the memory of my family’s two Great Pyrenees, Floyd and Henri, and for Belle, a “Boxerdore (part Boxer, part Labrador), our rescue dog. Living on a corner, the dogs spend a great deal of time barking and protecting the home from little old ladies, children on bicycles, and children walking home from school. It is a whimsical music composition trying to mimic the great cacophony of the dogs as people would walk by, contrasted by the times of quiet as they napped from all their activity. I must confess that it is my favorite song on the album.

God’s Love Be With You (falsely named “God’s Love Is With You” on the digital release), is based on the text of blessings found in Hebrew Scripture. I ended this collection of music with the intent of letting people know that in whatever emotional state in which they may find themselves, God is always blessing them and caring for them.

A PASCHAL JOURNEY

During the time of the Paschal Season of 2020, beginning on Ash Wednesday and ending on Pentecost Sunday, I composed the 13 songs that are on the album, A Paschal Journey.

The intent behind all these music compositions was to take the listener on a reflective journey, comparing their own Paschal Journey during Lent and Easter to the Paschal Journey of Jesus, which was being celebrated virtually everywhere because of the pandemic.

The Paschal Mystery of Jesus, which we celebrate during Lent and Easter Seasons, is not just about a recreation liturgically of the Passion, the Death, and the Resurrection of Jesus. Rather, it is about the joining of our own Paschal Journey with all of its suffering, deaths, and resurrection with that of Christ’s. St Paul, in his letter to the Romans, reminds us that when we were baptized, we were baptized not only into the death of Jesus, but that we rise as well with him in the resurrection.

As the pandemic continued to rage around us, the number of pages devoted to obituaries in the newspapers expanded to contain all the names of the victims who died from Covid-19. On one Sunday, during the first surge of the pandemic, I counted up to 12 pages of obituaries in the Star Tribune of Minneapolis. It was a very vivid reminder of how intimately the Paschal Journey of those who had died, and those they left behind, was linked to the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus.

I used the Gospel of John’s account of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus as my template for the 13 songs in this collection of music. Along with the music, I also composed a brief reflection on each song upon which the listener could meditate. I believe the scriptural passage from the 2nd letter of Paul to the Corinthians is an aid for the suffering and those accompanying those who are suffering. Paul reminds us that that which is “truly real” is hidden from us in this world, but that which is real and not transitory is already present and enfolds us.

Here are the songs and the brief meditations on the songs:

 “Prelude-Kyrie” is the beginning of the Paschal Journey, when we discover as did Moses did with the burning bush, that there is something far greater than us. In the words of the 12 steps, when did we come to know our “higher power?”

“Create in Me a New Heart” is based on Ezechial 36. God tells Israel that he will turn their hearts of stone into hearts of flesh. The second part of our journey is to acknowledge the parts of our hearts that are stone, and ask God to transform those stony parts into hearts of flesh.

“On Knees Washing Feet”  in John’s Passion, the One who created the world, gets down on his knees and washes the feet of those he has created. We must learn to be humble, modeling our humility after that of Jesus. Jesus washed the feet of Judas Iscariot. It is easy to wash the feet of those we like. Do we find it difficult to wash the feet of those we do not like?

“Love One Another” is based Jesus’ Great commandment of love. ”Love one another as I have loved you.” As we listen to this music, let us meditate on whom we are called to love. Who are we called to love more than others? Jesus says, our enemies and those who persecute us.  Do we find ourselves plotting revenge against them? The great comedian W.C. Fields expressed this as “thinking thoughts that would make a coroner quail.”Can we motivate ourselves to pray for them? This is a major part of our Paschal Journey. This very necessary step prepares us for the hardship that awaits us.

“At Prayer In the Kidron Valley” As we walk into the Crucible that awaits us, all we know is that suffering will be  involved. In Mark and Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus cries out to God in agony and God remains silent. In Luke’s Gospel, God sends an angel to comfort Jesus. This is a song of trust, trust that we know God is with us even at times when it seems that God is absent.

“In The Crucible” This song is based on Psalm 22. When we are in the Crucible, we experience great suffering in our lives. It may appear that God has abandoned us. However as grim as Psalm 22 may begin, the psalm does not end in despair, but rather in victory. We will not die, but will be transformed forever.

“Pieta” We are familiar with the image of Mary holding the lifeless body of Jesus after he is taken down from the cross. This image is reflected in this song. As Mary mourns the death of her Son, her mind wanders back to the time when she was singing him a lullaby as a baby, then travels back to the reality that she is holding her lifeless child. In the Crucible there are parts of us that have died and we must let go of that within us that has died. This is dedicated to all parents who have lost a child.

“Resurrection”. As we rise from the dead, we begin to take stock of who we have now become. We have been transformed, but we may not fully realize the change that has really taken place within us. As you listen to the music, meditate on the experience of the resurrection that followed your suffering. How did it feel to “rise from the dead?” What insight had you gained from both your dying and your rising? In what way did you change from who you once were? In what ways have your values changed?

“Mystagogy – Magdalene In The Garden”. It is inspired by the story of Mary Magdalene who goes back to the tomb and asks the angel where the body of Jesus has been hidden. Thinking Jesus is a gardener, he speaks her name and she knows he is alive. Mystagogy is when we take time to pause and reflect on the resurrection we have experienced. How we are different because of the Passion and Death we have undergone? Do we find ourselves tempted to recover who we once were? Do we resist the transformation that we have experienced, or, do we follow the counsel of Jesus to Mary that let go of the past and embrace the transformation that has occurred within us?

“Mystagogy – On the Shore of Lake Tiberius”. At this part of our Paschal Journey, we begin to examine the number of times we have doubted God during our Crucible. We all do this. I remember Bishop Romeo Blanchette of the Joliet Diocese who, when dying from ALS, state that we ask others to pray for us when we are sick, because we are too sick to pray. Even in Peter’s weakness, Jesus loved Peter. Jesus continues to love us as he did Peter, and tells us to feed his sheep.

“Mystagogy – Standing on Mount Olivet”. After Jesus has ascended, the angel asks the disciples, “why are you standing around looking up in the sky?” Following our own Crucible and resurrection, we discern the question “What am I to do next?” It will take the Holy Spirit to open our eyes and show us the way. In what direction is the Holy Spirit coaxing us to move? Do we pray to the Holy Spirit to open our minds to reveal what God is calling us to do, now?

“Mystagogy – Pentecost”. We begin to discern what God has planned for us in the future. We reflect on how we have changed and the gifts and the knowledge we must share with others. Like the disciples of Jesus, men and women alike, it is now time for us to carry on the ministry to which we have been led by the Holy Spirit. How are we to use the gifts, the knowledge we have received from God to build up the Reign of God in our world?

“Mystagogy – Jesus Through Me”. It is at this point that we discover that Jesus was there at the beginning of our Paschal Journey, was with us every step of our Paschal Journey, and is there awaiting us at the end of our Paschal Journey. And, lastly, meditate on the world of Julian of Norwich. She said that Jesus is nearer to us than our souls. At that time in her life, there was political unrest all around her, with many men, women, and children being executed by different political factions. The Black Death, the Bubonic Plague, had killed up to 250 million people throughout Europe. In the middle of all this death, all this chaos, Julian had her revelation in which Jesus speaks to her, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” In what way, do you feel interiorly, the truth of these words Julian penned so long ago, that all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well?

I conclude this meditation with these wonderful words from St. Paul:

Everything indeed is for you, so that the grace bestowed in abundance on more and more people may cause the thanksgiving to overflow for the glory of God. Therefore, we are not discouraged; rather, although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to what is seen but to what is unseen; for what is seen is transitory, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Cor 4:15-18, NAB)

MUSIC FOR THE CELESTIAL DANCE

This music was composed during the months of June and July, 2020. At that time, the hope for a vaccine was far distant, with some saying it might take two years or more. The death toll continued to rise drastically, with the horror of New York City, Boston, and Seattle being repeated in the southern States of Florida, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas. The governors of these States were far more concerned about attracting people to spend money in their cities and on their beaches, and dismissing the dead bodies littering the same cities and beaches. The same pictures of refrigerator trucks storing the numerous dead outside of county hospitals in New York City being now replicated in Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, Miami, Tampa Bay, St Petersburg, Atlanta, and so on.

The foolish in my town preferring to believe the false rhetoric of Trump and his cohort, ignored medical science and refused to follow the protocols to keep infections down. The line-up of cars outside the Mayo Clinic filled with families being tested for Covid-19 stretched out of the parking lot and down County Road 37. Helicopters were flying in and out of New Prague, transporting the infected from the small hospital in town to the larger hospitals in the Twin Cities and Rochester.

With death everywhere, the obituaries in the local paper growing larger by the day, it was not hard to think about the Death all around, and my own vulnerability. It was at this time I reread a wonderful poem composed by my favorite Irish poet, William Butler Yeats, entitled “The Fiddler of Dooney.”

When I play on my fiddle in Dooney
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet,
My brother in Mocharabuiee.

I passed my brother and cousin:
They read in their books of prayer;
I read in my book of songs
I bought at the Sligo fair.

When we come at the end of time
To Peter sitting in state,
He will smile on the three old spirits,
But call me first through the gate;

For the good are always the merry,
Save by an evil chance,
And the merry love the fiddle,
And the merry love to dance:

And when the folk there spy me,
They will all come up to me,
With “Here is the fiddler of Dooney!”
And dance like a wave of the sea.
(The Collected Poems of William Butler Yeats, © 1983, 1989 by Anne Yeats. Macmillan Publishing Company, 866 Third Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10022.)

With the exception of a few Christian faith traditions, many world religions celebrate and incorporate dance into their religious rituals. Holy Scripture speaks numerously of dance accompanied by the sound of timbrels and harps. King David danced naked leading the Ark of the Covenant into the city of Jerusalem. An eternity empty of music and dance, as Yeats pointed out in his poem, would be a very dull and gloomy place.

In the eschatology of William Butler Yeats, the only thing that is important in heaven is that the music allows one the ability to “dance like a wave of the sea.” The music in this collection of Psalm Offerings is meant to reflect the celebratory eschatology of heaven as described by Yeats in his poem. Not all the music in this collection are dances, e.g. Nocturne, Blues, Impromptu (though if one wished, one could dance to these songs). However, the majority of the music is representative of the different musical dance forms throughout Western music history, from the peasant dances of the Middle Ages, the dances of the Royal Court and upper classes of the Baroque, Classical, and Romantic periods, to even the “forbidden” dances like the Tango and Tarantella that were considered too erotic. A Tango can be as sacred as plainchant … and a heck of lot more enjoyable and danceable than plainchant.

Here are the songs in this collection:

Nocturne in F Major (for Mindy and Shane Wescott) As the name implies, Nocturne references the word “night”. In its origin, the word refered to the “night” prayers, specifically Matins of the Liturgy of the Hours. It was later used to imply a form of music primarily for the piano and performed late at night, e.g. 11 p.m. It became very popular in the 19^th century, with Chopin composing 21 Nocturnes. Composers of the 20^th century have also composed Nocturnes. In terms of the poem, it is the gathering of the three old souls, the fiddler and his relative priests, at the gate of heaven.

Estampie in G Minor (for Terry Shaughnessy) The Estampie is a Medieval dance of the 13^th and 14^th centuries, but still is in use in our present time. Early Estampie’s were monophonic, that is just one line melodies with no harmonies. As music evolved, they became more polyphonic (harmonies added).

Blues in C Major (for Pam and Kevin Bailey) The Blues is a form of music that developed out of the work songs, chants, and spirituals that Black Americans sang. There are many forms of Blues, e.g. Delta Blues, St Louis Blues, Chicago Blues, and its influences are found in Folk, Jazz, Rhythm and Blues, and Rock. “The Blues” are often about losses in life, primarily lost love, or women (most Blues singers were men) that were driving the singer crazy. I remember hearing a Blues singer once say that the Blues saved many a man death from suicide. Just singing about how a man was wronged seem to be a way to get the “poison” out of his system and go on with life.

Impromptu in E Major (for Pastor Diane Goulson) As the name implies, an Impromptu gives the impression of being “made up” on the spot. Impromptus have been composed primarily for the piano. Composers such as Chopin, Schumann, Liszt, Faure, and others have composed Impromptus. In terms of a distinctive musical form, since the music is meant to be spontaneous in nature, there is no specific music form for this music.

Sarabande and Gigue (For Al Ahmann) The dance, Sarabande, originated in Latin America where it was known as zarabanda. It was brought to Spain where it was combined Arab influences. Initially it was danced in double lines by couples with castanets and was fast in tempo. It was considered horrifically erotic in nature by the Church and banned in Spain. As Mark Twain once stated, “Sacred cows make the best hamburger”, so it was with the Sarabande and the prohibition by the Church of this dance only made it all the more popular. In the 17^th century, the dance spread to the nations of Italy and France, where it became a slow dance of the Royal courts. Composers like Johann Sebastian Bach, George Friderich Handel, Claude Debussy, and others have composed Sarabandes. As a dance of the court it was often combined with the fast dance, Gigue (or Jig). The music I have composed here resembles that of the Sarabandes and Gigues of the Baroque royal courts.

Tango in F Minor (For  Ruth Wagner) This partner dance that developed around 1880 on the borders of Argentina and Uruguay combines the music dance influences of Africa’s Candombe, the Spanish Habenera, and the Argentinan Milonga. It was largely danced in brothels and bars, and then spread to the world. The sexuality of the dance shocked puritanical North America. Nevertheless, it spread throughout the world in both affluent theater and in the barrios and neighborhoods of the poor. This partner dance that developed around 1880 on the borders of Argentina and Uruguay combines the music dance influences of Africa’s Candombe, the Spanish Habenera, and the Argentinan Milonga. It was largely danced in brothels and bars, and then spread to the world. The sexuality of the dance shocked puritanical North America. Nevertheless, it spread throughout the world in both affluent theater and in the barrios and neighborhoods of the poor.

Polonaise in D Major (For Deacon Rip and Lily Riordan) The Polonaise (French for Polish) is a Polish dance in triple meter. It is one of five Polish national dances. It has a very distinctive rhythm pattern. It was often danced as part of “Carnival” parties (think Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday) preceding the liturgical season of Lent. Polonaises have been composed for both orchestra and piano by composers as diverse as Johann Sebastian Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Liszt, Schumann, Rimsky-Korsakov, Mussorgsky, Tchaikovsky, and even John Philip Sousa. The composer most noted for the Polonaise was Chopin, who composed at least 23 Polonaises, the first composed at the age of 7 years and the last composed at the age of 36, three years before his death. Chopin composed his Polonaises principally for piano.

Tarantella in B Minor (For Joey Nytes) The Tarantella is one of many fast tempo Italian folk dances in 6/8 meter (think 6 beats a measure with a heavy accent on the 1^st and 3^rd beat (1,2,3  4,5,6). Like the Irish Jig, grouped into two groups of three, it has a feeling of two beats a measure. It derives its name from the spider, Tarantula, whose poisonous bite was thought to bring about a hysterical condition. It was thought that an agitated solo dance, danced up to an hour’s length of time by the victim of a Tarantula bite, had curative powers. However, the Tarantella was also a dance done by couples mimicking courtship. Mandolins, guitars, accordions and tambourines are the instruments used normally for the Tarantella, competing instrumentalists trying to always up the tempo (speed) of the music.

Galop in C Major (For my Dad) The Galop is a fast dance in duple meter (2/4 or 2/2 time) from the 19^th century that was very popular in Europe, especially Vienna. Johann Strauss Jr (The Waltz King) composed a great number of Galops. The Galop is the forerunner of the modern day Polka. A distinct memory from my infancy is the melody of the first two measures of this Galop. When my dad use to walk me at night, he would quietly hum this little motif over and over again, lulling me to sleep. What I did in this Galop was to take this little motif and develop this into this dance. Dad and Mom loved to dance, and they loved to Polka. I thought it appropriate that I took Dad’s melody and turn it into a dance I believe they are fully enjoying in God’s reign.

The Celestial Fiddler (For … myself) I conclude this music collection of dances by a direct referral to Yeat’s “Fiddler of Dooney.” I am a big fan of Irish Traditional music. Traditional Irish music is filled Airs, Jigs, Hornpipes, and Reels. Often when Irish musicians get together they take individual Airs, Jigs, Hornpipes, and Reels, and combine them into a set. The song, “The Celestial Fiddler”, is reminiscent of an Irish set of music, combining a slow Air, with a fast Jig in 6/8 meter, and an equally fast Reel in 2/4 meter.

MUSICAL REFLECTIONS ON A PANDEMIC

This music and the poems that accompanied it were composed beginning the month of August and completed by the end of September, 2020.

The title of the album is a bit off putting. It is reminiscent of a song written by Neil Young on the Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young album entitled “Four Way Street.” Neil Young introduces a song with the words, “Here is a new song that is guaranteed to bring you right down. It is called, ‘Don’t Let It Bring You Down’.” While there are some songs that are somber in nature (with over 500,000 people dead and growing, living through a pandemic is NOT a cakewalk), the majority of the songs are not cloaked in somber tones. People still get married, infants are born, children play with puppies in the yard, adolescent love continues its clumsy exploration, love deepens in couples sheltering in place, and heroism is displayed by all those first responders and medical personnel in our hospitals and clinics. There is plenty of hope to be had in the midst of all the grim news we see, hear, and read in the news.

 I began the composing of this music first by meditating on how this pandemic has affected our lives. This led to the writing of ten poems. The music is programmatic in that it reflects the sentiment expressed in each poem. During the music composing process, I found an interactive relationship between the notes in the score with the words of the poetry. There were times in which the music dictated a change to the text of a poem. Of course, the change in wording would then be reflected in the musical score.

Here are the songs and poems in this collection:

JUXTAPOSITION 1 This song is actually a song in two parts. The first part is a Prelude and the second part a Fugue.

This poem was greatly influenced from the story of my great nephew, Steven’s birth in April. Steven was born at the height of the initial surge of the pandemic in Chicago. As he was being born and drawing the first of many breaths in his life, elsewhere in the same hospital, were those in the ICU Covid-19 wards who were drawing their last breath. In that hospital was the juxtaposition of both the ending of human life and the beginning of human life, with all the feelings of sorrow and grief, and anticipation and joy that accompany these passages of life. The death of people from Covid is represented by the Prelude and the joy of a new baby being born represented by the Fugue.

Prelude for a Dying Loved One
Faces stricken,
painted in grief,
peer through the glass barrier
into the room,
as the ventilator is removed
from a loved one, and
last breaths are expelled.
Mother Earth awaits,
her arms opens to embrace
and cradle her child.

Fugue for a Newborn Infant
Faces, wonderstruck,
painted with excitement,
peer through the doorway,
into the birthing room
as a newborn infant is
laid in a bassinette, and,
the first of many breaths begin.
The child’s mother awaits,
her arms opens to embrace
and cradle her child.

AN ESTAMPIE FOR WOULD BE LOVERS
This is a whimsical poem and song reflecting on the exploration of adolescent love and sexuality. The title of the poem underwent a number of changes from “Deserted Places”, “Empty Lots”, before I finally decided on the present title.

As an adolescent, I had my favorite places in which to, in the parlance of Ruthie’s Aunt Evie, “molly buzz”, or “make out” to describe this activity, largely resulting from the response of raging hormones and adolescent infatuation. The poem is a reflection as to whether the celebrated, secluded “lover lanes” of the past are still being utilized by the adolescents of today and how the pandemic has changed or curtailed the patterns of adolescent sexual exploration. While not endorsing immoral behavior, I am not blind to the fact that adolescents really don’t give a hang as to whether their behavior is moral or immoral as they are experiencing the throes of hormonal excess.

I naively conclude that the present day pandemic has lessened the “near occasions of sin” committed by our present day adolescents, while acknowledging that they are probably still throwing caution to the wind and continuing the long time behaviors of their ancestors.

An Estampie for Would Be Lovers
Ah, those isolated places where once
cars and bodies huddled together,
the “lovers’ lanes”, in which
submarine races were observed
with no winners posted,
“to score”, an abashed innuendo
of conquest and shame.
These secluded spots.
grass trampled down by
blankets and cars,
where sexuality was explored,
car windows fogged over
by the breath of its occupants,
shaky adolescent hands
fumbling with buttons and catches,
a stroke here, a grope there,
an indignant slap leaving its mark
across the cheek of the offending,
and the hickey, the mark of Cain,
adorning the neck of the willing.

Only overgrown grasses now
huddle together with overgrown weeds,
hiding from sight these lots
these lots vacant of humanity
and near occasions of sin.
A pandemic plucks the blossoms
off of young adolescent love.
Social distancing causing
near occasions of sin,
minor and major,
literally out of reach.
The facial mask, the chastity
belt for the lips, thwarting
even the most chaste of kisses.
The buildup of hormones threaten
to burst adolescents asunder.
Confessionals as empty as
hospital maternity wards,
I fear for the propagation
Of the human race.

SONG FOR THE UNKNOWN DEAD

There is an estimated 22,000 deaths from Covid-19 during the first two months of the pandemic in New York City. So many people died alone and unknown, their bodies stacked like cord wood in refrigerator trucks outside the hospitals and then taken to Hart Island to be buried in an unmarked mass grave. As tragic and as frightening as it may be to die alone and unknown, Psalm 139 reassures us that there is one who is present to us and knows our name, namely, the God who loved us into life.

“For it was you,” writes the psalmist, “who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed.” (Psalm 139:13-16, NRSV)

The music is composed in the musical form, Variations on a Theme. A musical theme is stated, followed by nine variations on that theme. The variations represent the diversity of the number of people who have died from this pandemic. The final variation is in a major key as God welcomes home those who have died.

SONG FOR THE UNKNOWN DEAD
Variations on a Theme
The pandemic cuts a long swathe
through the human population,
bodies gathered and scattered
through emergency rooms,
intensive care units, and
long lines of refrigerator trucks
patiently waiting its human cargo.
So many dead, many unknown,
Seemingly forgotten by family and friends,
Their funeral, the quiet ride
To a massive pauper’s grave.
Though forgotten by humanity,
not so by the One who loves
and named them at conception.

FROLIC FOR CHILDREN AND PUPPIES

One of the enduring sights during these long months of sheltering in place has been that of our next door neighbors’ 5 year old son frolicking and playing with his puppy in the backyard, totally oblivious to the pandemic that has gripped the nation. Covid-19 does not paralyze this child with fear and foreboding as it does his parents. He, along with many other children, blessedly live in the moment enjoying each moment of the day.

I call this music a frolic, but I suppose it is more accurately in the musical form of a Galop, the forerunner of the Polka.

A FROLIC FOR CHILDREN AND PUPPIES

Rolling bodies,
Grass stained jeans
And shouts, yips, and nips
Punctuate the air
As the child and puppy
Roll in the grass of the yard.
Squirt gun fights,
An unintentional bath,
Painted with frivolity
and water as the
Sound of laughter
And playful taunts,
Fill the air around
The children who chase
And play oblivious
To the invisible moat
That repels the perils
Outside the yard.

JUXTAPOSITION 2: A Berceuse for a Deceased Loved One, and Waltz for a Newlywed Couple.

Like the first song, Juxtaposition 1, Juxtaposition 2 is a song in two parts. The first part is a Berceuse, French for Lullaby, and the second part an exuberant waltz.

In reading the local town newspaper during these months of sheltering in place, the one thing that has remained consistent are the obituaries and the announcements of those who have become engaged and married. Depending on the number of obituaries, the obituaries and announcements of engagements and marriage share the same page. The poem and the music reflect this juxtaposition of death situated alongside new life in the town newspaper.

I used the musical form of the Berceuse, French for a lullaby or cradle song, for the deceased love laid down in the arms of Mother Earth to sleep that eternal sleep. I used the musical form of a joyful wedding Waltz to represent the new life of love a wedding couple embraces.

Here is the poem:

Berceuse for a Deceased Loved One
So many walk,
eyes cast downward,
Draped in black,
Bruised and battered
By the sting of death.
Their loved one placed
Among the community
Of the non-living, who
Will now attend
To their future needs.

Waltz for a Newlywed Couple
Across the town,
Faces lift skyward,
Adorned in white,
Young love’s promises
Dreams to be fulfilled,
And new life generated.
They take their place
In the community
Of the living, who
Will now attend
To their future needs.
Love triumphs over death,
Plucking from death its sting.

SHELTERING IN LOVE: A RHAPSODY FOR RUTHIE
This poem and music reflect the months of sheltering in place that my wife, Ruthie, and I have experienced over the past year. It was first the involuntary isolation at home as the result of some career ending injuries, and then, just as we began to be able to move more freely and easier, the involuntary isolation because of Covid-19. For some, sheltering in place, has come as a great hardship. The loss of work and income, the shortages of needed supplies for the home, the lack of money for food, has led to an increase in poverty, and a rise in domestic violence and substance abuse.

For Ruthie and I, we have been on the blessed end of isolation, finally living what we have dreamed from the time we first courted. Sheltering in place is for us, sheltering in love. I compose this song for Ruthie in the musical form of a Rhapsody.

Here is the poem:

SHELTERING IN LOVE
A Rhapsody for Ruth
When we were courting,
I was impatient for the time
When the culmination of
Our evening together would
Not end at the doorstep
Of your aunt and uncle’s house.
I longed with the lover
In “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”
Our night’s embrace ending
Only in the light of a new morn.

In the bliss of newly married life,
The foolish belief that my longing
Forever fulfilled, was revealed
as much a dream as when we dated.
Our children’s births, that great
Unknown during courting,
The time and expense children
requires, shredded my dream.
Our time away from each other
Out numbering our time together,
Long days at work for me, and
Long nights at work for you,
As we sought to provide
For our growing family.

It is paradoxical, that it took
Work ending injuries and
A pandemic, a plague,
In which the longing of my
Youth would be fulfilled.
The daily tasks that fill
Human lives for nourishment,
Environment and safe shelter,
Sitting in our chairs, working
Crosswords, and word games,
Cheering and cursing politicians,
Every moment together, a
realized moment of tremendous grace.

After fifty-one years of longing
That our evening’s embrace
Would stretch through the night
Into the morning’s light
Finally, after all these years,
“Wouldn’t It Be Nice” is transformed
into “Oh, How It Is Nice!”

FEAST OF FOOLS: A PANDEMIC DANSE MACABRE

Historically, the Feast of Fools was celebrated principally in Northern France around the beginning of January in the Middle Ages. It often mocked Roman Catholic clergy and liturgical rites, with the crowd of people electing their own “bishop and pope”. It is thought to have been derived from the pagan Saturnalia that had been celebrated prior to Christianity. Needless to say, the medieval Church roundly condemned the blasphemous extravagances of the celebration.

During the time of the Bubonic Plague, also known as the Black Death, in medieval Europe, roughly, 1346 to 1353, it is estimated that over a million people died. In much of the literature of that time, life was so precarious that many adopted the attitude of “live, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you die.” This is a phrase adapted from Isaiah 22, in which God has called for Israel to fast and repentance only to find the people of Israel instead ignoring God and eating and drinking to excess. In verse 13 and 14 of that chapter, we read, “there was joy and festivity, killing oxen and slaughtering sheep, eating meat and drinking wine. “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” The Lord of hosts has revealed himself in my ears: Surely this iniquity will not be forgiven you until you die, says the Lord God of hosts. (Isaiah 22:13-14, NRSV).

Things have not changed much over the centuries. In the midst of so much suffering and death during our present pandemic, we still have our pandemic deniers, not practicing safe distance and wearing facial masks, crowding on our beaches, our bars, restaurants, theaters, and political rallies. After each of these occurrences the rate of infection and death rises precipitously. These are literally our present day “Feast of Fools”.  I would see graduation parties in my hometown in which no one practiced safe distance and wore masks, and then find the next day the line-up of cars outside the Mayo Clinic as families were tested for the Covid-19 infection.

The poem and the music reflect the deadly folly of our present day “Feast of Fools”.

Here is the poem:

THE FEAST OF FOOLS: A Pandemic Danse Macabre

“Eat, drink, and be merry,”
the cry goes out,
as the party ensues.
Unsteady bodies, alcohol impeded
joints and limbs, numbed
commonsense, as they
dance, fornicate, and drink,
unknowing or ignoring
the Black Spectre of Death
who peers at these simpletons
through its beaked-face mask,
patiently awaiting the moment
its sharpened blade makes
its downward journey
upon the necks of the partying.

One would think,
armed with historical fact,
the simpletons of today
would have learned
from the deaths of close
to four hundred million
human lives, who chose
to dance in drunken abandon
beneath the blade of the
Beaked-faced, Middle Age demon.
Stupidity, as infectious as the plague,
the one human constant
throughout the ages,
dooming the dimwitted
to foolishly dare pandemic demons
to strike them down.
Brazen stupidity will not
save them from fact.
The grim Beak-faced Spectre
grins at their challenge
sharpens its ax,
… and strikes.

MARCH OF THE SOLITARY SENTRY

Sheltering in place has caused many of us to think of our homes as our fortress, our only defense against an invisible, deadly foe. Even after an enforced shelter at home order was lifted, many of us, especially those of us who are most vulnerable, self-isolate ourselves in our homes. Because of those who are in complete denial that a pandemic exists, we cannot trust others to act responsibly. This tragic self-centeredness and selfishness on the part of the pandemic deniers forces the rest of us to live in isolation in order to just survive.

We take on the role of the sentry, guarding our homes and ourselves from the invisible, deadly enemy that has caused the deaths of so many people throughout our nation and throughout our world.

The poem and the music reflect this martial role that we have now assumed in response to the pandemic.

Here is the poem:

MARCH OF A SOLITARY SENTRY

The well, worn carpet
Underneath our windows
Of our sentry post,
Through which we peer
Into the unknown
For a spectral hand,
Invisible to the human eye,
Our hearts and spirits
As anxious and worn
As the carpet worn smooth
Underneath our feet.

The fear of that hand,
Knowing that its
bony touch goes
Undetected as it strokes
The face of its victims,
Robbing scent from
The nostrils,
Transforming bodies
into over-heated ovens
of those it condemns.

Our homes, a sanctuary,
A respite from the terror,
And, yet, our place
Of solitary confinement.
we peer out
through the bars
Of our windows
For the invisible enemy
As the days evolve
Into weeks and months,
Thwarting this invisible
Enemy, armed only
With a cloth face mask
And hand sanitizer,
We wait for reprieve.

A NOCTURNE FOR OUR MEDICAL HEROES

This is a time in which we need heroes more than ever. This is a time as desperate as other times in our nation’s history. When we look for our heroes to come from our political leaders, especially our leaders on the Federal level, we find only narcissists, the greedy, and fools in charge. What the pandemic has revealed is that the heroes of our age are neither political nor military. Rather, the heroes  of our present time are dressed in EMT uniforms, the scrubs of doctors, nurses, medical technicians and other personnel, and cleaning staff.

Their weaponry does not consist of bandoliers of weapons designed to end human life, but rather their weapons consist of compassion, care, knowledge, skill, and love. The command of Jesus in John 15 to “love one another as I have loved you,” is their marching order. “There is so greater love than to lay down one’s life for a friend”, Jesus says to his disciples before he leaves for the Kidron Valley and to his arrest and execution. Our heroes today are so giving of themselves, that many have laid down their lives as a result of their love and care for so many who are suffering.

This music, a Nocturne for Our Medical Heroes, reflects the great love, compassion and self-giving of our present day heroes.

Here is the poem:

A NOCTURNE FOR OUR MEDICAL HEROES

Literature is filled
With narratives of
Individual and collective
Acts of heroism.
The shining armor
Of righteous knights,
The Robin Hoods’
Of world history,
Bandolier draped chests,
Fighting a heartless
World that preys
Upon the powerless
Trapped in poverty.

We search the horizon
For visions of soldiers
Bravely raising a flag
On an embattled hill.
We seek for leadership
In an absentee government,
To find only a vapid vacuum
Of intelligence, draped
In self-indulgence.
and corruption,
spreading as easily
and as deadly,
as the pestilence that
is killing humanity.

“Where are our heroes?”
Where is the new Moses
To rise among us,
To protect and lead
Us from our wandering
In this desert of death.
One, for whom the good
Of the many out weighs
Personal ambition
And self-gain?
To whom can we
Entrust our lives,
And the lives
Of those we love?

Rescuers arrive,
Draped in the soft cloth
Of medical scrubs,
EMT uniforms,
Armed only with
Bandoliers of compassion,
Love, and self-less service
And a stethoscope,
A mask and face shield.
Their hearts emblazoned
With the words,
“There is no greater love
Than to lay down
One’s life for a friend,”

HYMN TO OUR GOD OF MANY FACES

During this time of tribalism, politically and religiously, it is easy to think only in terms of us and them, and that God is only on our side and absent from the side of all our opponents. In a time of Blue and Red political differences, I know well the feeling of taking sides. I wonder out loud how anyone could claim that God is on the side of those holding an opposing viewpoint from my own. Then, I remember the words of Abraham Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln is reported to have said to an outspoken opponent of the Confederacy, “The question is not whether God is on our side or not. The question is whether we are on the side of God.”

We like to think in dualistic absolutes, e.g. the good, the bad, and black and white. For God, there are no dualistic absolutes. I remember listening to a Jewish rabbi describing the scene in Exodus in which the Egyptian Pharoah and his army are drowned in the Red Sea. In Exodus, Miriam and the women begin to sing a song of victory as the destruction of their slave owners and opponents. The rabbi described that in the Talmud, a different scene is painted. Angels approach God and say that God must be happy that the enemies of God’s Chosen People had been destroyed. They notice God is weeping and ask why God is crying. God replies, “The Egyptians are my people, too.”

This hymn and this song’s inspiration is derived from the first and second chapter of Isaiah.

In the first chapter, God is castigating the elders of Judah for their corruption, their greed, and their utter disregard of the poor and the vulnerable of their society. “Trample my courts no more; bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation— I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity. Your new moons and your appointed festivals my soul hates; they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them. When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow. (Isaiah 1:12b-17, NRSV)

In the second chapter, Isaiah paints an eschatological vision of what will be, when all nations united with their enemies approach the mountain of God, ascend, and sit at the feet of God. God will teach them the ways of God’s peace and justice in which all weapons will be destroyed and turned into plows and pruning hooks and war will be destroyed for ever. That segment ends with the promise, “come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!”

The hymn acknowledges the truth that all people of our world, regardless of nation, culture, religion or non-religion, are children of God. God does not just wear one face, but wears the faces of ALL God’s children. This is the vision I hold before me during this time of great acrimony and division.

As you listen to the music, it starts out like a typical church hymn, than segues into another melody, before it segues again into a variation of the hymn, then segues again into another melody before concluding with a final variation on the hymn. Yes, you can sing the text of the hymn to the music, especially as it is played at the beginning and the end of the song.

Here is the text of the hymn:

HYMN TO OUR GOD OF MANY FACES

God of many names and faces,
Hymns of how our lives interlace
With you, whom we have known
And think of you as ours alone.

Our rituals, doors to our salvation?
Incense, music, food oblations,
Cultic gestures, words, and symbols,
Is this Salvation for the lazy and simple?

Truth be told, O God omnipotent,
Our feeble rituals sadly impotent,
Until we love all people on earth
To whom your love has given birth.

For every people, culture, nation
You equally love and grant salvation,
Our foes, our lives, you equally cherish,
And grieve the deaths of all who perish.

Truth be told, O God omnipotent,
Our feeble rituals sadly impotent,
Until we love all people on earth
To whom your love has given birth.

O God of many names and faces,
All human life your love graces,
Transform into flesh our hearts of stone,
For you are flesh of our flesh, and bone of our bone.

In the Deuterocanonical Book of Baruch (note: Baruch was a companion to Jeremiah, who accompanied Jeremiah into Egypt and reportedly died there), we hear Baruch addressing the Jews in the Diaspora, during the Babylonian Captivity. Baruch tells them not to live in despair, but to cast off the veil of despondency that covers them. Why? Because God will clothe them in glory and return them to their native land of Judah. All of the earth will behold that they are God’s beloved. In a passage that mirrors that of 2^nd Isaiah 40, God will go before leveling mountains and filling in gorges so that their journey home will be done with ease with no obstacle in their path.

In Luke’s Gospel, John the Baptist is introduced as the one who will make the way smooth and guide them to the salvation of God. John’s message is clear, namely, that people are not condemned to live trapped in misery, powerless to free themselves from sin. John introduces the people that they are empowered to change their lives. Instead of lives of fatalism in which outside forces control their destiny, John tells them that they have control over their own destiny.

During this Advent, how do we find ourselves. Do we feel trapped, not unlike the Jewish people in the Diaspora by the circumstances over which we believe we have no control? Do we find ourselves, like those whom John the Baptist addressed, held captive by whatever sin dominates our lives? Or do we find ourselves, like John the Baptist, one through whom God tells people that we are not condemned to live trapped but are offered freedom by God to live lives of hope and joy? No matter where we find ourselves this Advent, we are told to be hopeful, to place our despondency and fatalism aside, for God loves us and desires to heal the brokenness of our lives so that we can be free, happy, and at peace.

Readings for the Second Sunday in Advent:

Bar 5:1-9

Jerusalem, take off your robe of mourning and misery;
    put on the splendor of glory from God forever:
wrapped in the cloak of justice from God,
    bear on your head the mitre
    that displays the glory of the eternal name.

For God will show all the earth your splendor:
    you will be named by God forever
    the peace of justice, the glory of God’s worship.

Up, Jerusalem! stand upon the heights;
    look to the east and see your children
gathered from the east and the west
    at the word of the Holy One,
    rejoicing that they are remembered by God.
Led away on foot by their enemies they left you:
    but God will bring them back to you
    borne aloft in glory as on royal thrones.
For God has commanded
    that every lofty mountain be made low,
and that the age-old depths and gorges
    be filled to level ground,
    that Israel may advance secure in the glory of God.
The forests and every fragrant kind of tree
    have overshadowed Israel at God’s command;
for God is leading Israel in joy by the light of his glory,
    with his mercy and justice for company.

Lk 3:1-6

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, 
when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, 
and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee,
and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region
of Ituraea and Trachonitis, 
and Lysanias was tetrarch of Abilene, 
during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, 
the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the desert.
John went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, 
proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, 
as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah:
    A voice of one crying out in the desert:
    “Prepare the way of the Lord,
        make straight his paths.
    Every valley shall be filled
        and every mountain and hill shall be made low.
    The winding roads shall be made straight,
        and the rough ways made smooth,
    and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”