Holiday Music, Memories and Anamnesis

Last night, the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra presented a memorable review of classic holiday pops music at Strathmore.  They were accompanied by two fine singers (Debbie Gravitte and Ted Keegan), a host of tap-dancing Santas from the Baltimore School for the Arts, and acrobat Timber Brown.  Listening to so many seasonal favorites stirred a swarm of happy scenes from childhood… which got me thinking…

Some of my favorite memories came back to me listening to last night’s concert… vague recollections of driving in dad’s station wagon down a snowy wooded street to get pie from “that” bakery (you know, the one everyone knows has the best pie, where you have to order it a week in advance)… Another memory, much clearer, was my great aunt and uncle’s yearly Christmas party with ALL the cousins (in an Italian family that’s a lot, believe me).  I can still hear her voice teaching me how to sing “White Christmas.”

Whether we’re traveling over the hills and through the woods to grandmother’s house, or making a valiant effort to find the last quart of egg nog in town on December 24, or just trying to clear the driveway of snow in time for guests to arrive, the Christmas season can be such a rich trove of graced experiences.  Music associated with the season instantly takes us back to those realities.  It’s a cultural version of the religious experiences Catholics know as anamnesis.

Anamnesis is the memorial presentation of a reality… but it’s more than just digging up a fuzzy memory.  It’s actually living the substance and reality of the thing remembered in the present.  When at mass, praying over the bread and wine, a Catholic priest says the words of Jesus from the Last Supper, it’s as if we are all there with Jesus again.  His  Body and Blood become sacramentally present among us.  Christmas songs aren’t quite the same, but experiencing them through eyes and ears of faith can be a good way to keep not only the memories, but the realities of the season ever new in our hearts, for our good and our neighbors’.

The First Christian Artist

images-2

“Blessed Lady, sky and stars, earth and rivers, day and night – everything that is subject to the power or use of man – rejoice that through you they are in some sense restored to their lost beauty and endowed with inexpressible new grace. …Now all creation has been restored to life and rejoices that it is controlled and given splendor by men who believe in God.”

St. Anselm’s words about today’s feast of the Immaculate Conception aptly describe not only the feast per se, but also the Catholic understanding of culture art and technology… all things on which this blog has reflected.

Catholics believe that when sin entered the human experience, it affected not only us rational beings, but all the rest of creation.  Consequently, even our greatest attempts to use the stuff of creation [i.e. culture] would always be hobbled by corruption.  The Incarnation of the Son, Christ, is (to use a modern metaphor) gene therapy for the whole of the cosmos… a treatment that (a) finds its origins in the Immaculate Conception of Mary when the Father prepared a worthy dwelling  place for the Son in the Virgin’s womb, (b) reaches full force in the birth of Jesus, and (c) comes to completion in the Passion Death and Resurrection.

Mary, then, is the first Christian artist: she infuses our world with Christ so that the things of this world might receive a heavenly orientation, leading everyone and everything back to God.  Today might be an ideal day for us to think about and/or pray for artists.  In a secular vision they are those talented people who lift our hearts and minds to higher things… but when they work with eyes of faith, they can lift our very souls to God himself.

The Miracle of Child Birth

images

Walking along the street in DC this week, I noticed something I haven’t seen since I lived in Italy: an “It’s a girl!” bow… A big puffy bow proudly attached to the front door of a townhouse.  Seeing those announcements always makes me smile.  You know that the neighbors have all congratulated the family, that far-flung relatives will be coming for visits… An aura of joy seems to grace the house when that bow goes up.  It made me think of one of this season’s great Biblical quotes,

“For a child is born to us, a son is given to us; upon his shoulder dominion rests. They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace.”  (Isaiah 9:5)

Every parent I’ve ever met agrees, childbirth is a miracle.  The irony is that an infant is something so self-contained, so dependent, so knowable.  Aren’t miracles all about the un-knowable?  Yes and no.

Some people say that miracles (or anything to do with God, really) are unintelligible and so they question the existence of any object of faith.  The birth of the Infant Christ gives us a clue to another way that we might consider things of faith.  Father John Saward puts it this way in his book, “Cradle of Redeeming Love” :

“When a man meets a mystery of faith, he finds not a deficiency, but an excess of intelligibility: there is just too much to understand.”

…kind of like holding a baby, be it the Infant Jesus or one’s own little sister.  That child is understandable, but there is so much there, that our minds can’t possibly grasp it all at once.  All the possibilities of a baby’s life, all the love he or she will experience and share… the feeling when an infant grips your finger with all his or her strength… the experience of being embraced by an baby with a combination of utter neediness but also clearly gratitude and love.  It’s overwhelming.  It’s miraculous.

The mysteries of God are like that, but multiplied by infinity: I can’t fully understand a baby’s embrace, but I don’t doubt the child exists.  Maybe that’s one reason the Savior decided to come to us precisely as a child.