On the metro with eyes lifted


I’ve always loved our Metro system.  The noble simplicity of its vaulted stations makes every rider a citizen-king.  The system is clean (compared to many)… and what heart doesn’t swell with civic unity and pride as we all agree that one should, “Stand on the right!” Metro is certainly an icon of DC life, a staple of our regional culture.  It’s also a fascinating petri dish of human experience.

When I commuted on Metro I was a wide-eyed college student, but there were other types of eyes too; muted in their excitement, downcast in fatigue, sometimes downright numb.  I still see them.  For some it’s a momentary thing, a brief “turning off” before rousing the self and stiffening the sinews for another round of life.  But for others I get the sense that those muted eyes are the norm of life.  Obviously I can’t speak for everyone that I see, but sometimes the words of Cardinal Wiseman come to mind,

“Who was ever satisfied that his attempt to please the world have been ever fully repaid?” (homily, “On love of the world” –  I Jn 2:15)

All of us run in the rat-race of urban life.  Too many run that race outside of a truly liberating human context: from one fad to the next, from one job to the next hoping against disappointed hope that eventually life will give way and reward us.  If eyes on the metro are any indication, it won’t.

Christianity has always proposed a different way, a sacrificial context for our race in which all the smallest and greatest sufferings we endure can be consciously offered to God to win graces for ourselves and our world.  The loving God, not this fickle world, becomes the source of or reward.  As Viktor Frankl asserted: a man can survive any “how” if he has a “why.”  When that “why” is our role in a divine schema of sacrifice and love, it ennobles us… lifts our spirits and maybe even our eyes when we’re riding the rails to work.

For further reading on living daily sacrifice see the works of: St. Therese of Lisieux, St. Josemaria Escriva, and St. John Paul II, all available at the Catholic Information Center (K St, NW between 15 and 16th St.  – Metro: Farragut North)

The Form of Country Music

I enjoy country music… sometimes.  Even calling myself a dilletante of the genre would be an exaggeration.  I started listening to it when I worked on the Hill.  My usual classical station would put me to sleep after lunch… pop music risked being inappropriate to the office.  Country’s positive lyrics and pep kept me awake in the mid afternoon.  I only mention this to highlight what an ear-opening experience this morning was.  Scanning the Post’s style section I found an article  about Sam Hunt’s new album “Montevallo.”  The glowing album review is typical in many ways, but for this:

“The 29-year-old is a fine-grain storyteller who knows how to roll, bounce, massage and leap-frog syllables in speedy, nuanced bursts. His most emotive verses toggle between singing and speech, locating a previously undiscovered sweet spot between Conway Twitty and Drake.”

The author, Chris Richards hits on a key principle of western aesthetics: the relationship between form and matter.  Super quick: form is the other-worldly ideal of a thing… the heavenly perfection of what we wish a thing could be.  Matter is the stuff (paint, clay, bricks, words, sound) that we on earth form into art.  A thing is beautiful insofar as its form shines through its material reality. (see Saward, John. “The Beauty of Holiness and the Holiness of Beauty.” for more)

Musically, think of a spectrum between pure form and pure matter; the form being pure melody, the matter being words without music.  Playing around inside this spectrum has yielded some of our great treasures. Opera leans heavily toward the melodic; sometimes to the point of “bending” bending words to suit melodies.  Epic poetry (Homer, Dante, et al) relies on the lilting patterns of words and their syllables to provide a music-less melody simply by pronunciation.

Mr. Richards seems to have stumbled on this philosophy lesson in Mr. Hunt’s latest album.  It’s not an altogether new concept.  Rex Harrison was famed for “musical speech” in “My Fair Lady,” because – as Harrison confessed – he couldn’t really carry a tune (e.g. I’ve grown accustomed to her face).

I’m not sure if “Montevallo” will make a country convert out of me.. I’m not going out to buy boots just yet… but even as I type I can’t stop listening to the music’s wonderful interplay of form and matter.  Today, keep your eyes peeled and ears open to form shining through matter… you may find it opens you to new forms of art and makes life just a little more heavenly.

Have you seen these men?




Despite their gleaming finishes, you might easily miss these men.  These are the Marconi monument (West side of 16th Street, NW in Mount Pleasant), and the African American Civil War Memorial (U St, NW).  Multitudes of monuments mark our metropolis.  Passing them routinely, we can become immune to their message, but they’re all worth thinking about.

Lately in ministry we hear a lot about being “intentional disciples” to improve the quality of our lives of faith.  Our monuments (even little ones like Mr. Marconi ) can serve the same purpose.  A call to intentional citizenship.  We stand on the shoulders of those who went before us.  Without the soldiers of the Union, we wouldn’t have a country.  Without Marconi we might not have radio technology and I might not be able to blog!

Taking a minute to think about who’s memory I’m passing on the bus can be an inspiration to give my all and leave a better city for future generations of Washingtonians.  How can I leave a good mark today?

“Person-al” Art

The Greek Muses


This Sunday’s Washington Post featured two great articles about getting to know music.  The first, by Geoff Edgers follows American orchestras’ efforts to expand their listener base using digital media.  The second article, by Anne Midgette, discusses pianist Pierre-Laurent Aimard’s recent exploration of Bach’s Well-tempered Clavier.

More deeply knowing art is like getting to know people.  Artists pour their humanity into their works.  So a piece of art (be it music, sculpture, photography etc.) has its own identity independent of me.  I have to humble myself, to open myself to that identity.  I interact with the art, but I don’t get to control the art or define it.  I treat it as another subject (not an object).

Aimard touches on this dynamic when he reflects, “You just have to be in contact with this music as rightly as possible, as sincerely as possible, as generously as possible.”  Commenting on LiveNote, an app for concertgoers, Edgers remarks, “…I developed a better sense of how to experience the performance…  I felt connected to what was going on in the hall musically but realized that there was a crutch [i.e. LiveNote] if I got curious or confused.”

Just as a good friend helps me navigate my day, getting to know art at a “person-al” level can too.  So be sure to explore podcasts, wiki-articles, apps and yes, even traditional bound books as you’re getting to know DC’s cultural resources in a deeper way.  You might be amazed at the results.

Pierre-Laurent Aimard will perform this Friday as part of the Library of Congress’ annual music series.  See “Touring Tips” for some easy-access concert venues I’ve been to.

Today’s Soundtrack

Have you ever thought it would be nice to have a soundtrack for life?  Some days accommodate music more easily, or obviously than others; today is one of them.  November 2 is All Souls Day, a time of special prayer for the dead.  If you’re looking for a way to gild your experience of this holy day, consider listening to The Dream of Gerontius (music by Edward Elgar).

John Henry Card. Newman
John Henry Card. Newman

The Dream is a poem by Blessed John Henry Cardinal Newman the great convert, pastor, and academic.  Newman describes the experience of a soul dying surrounded by loved ones.  It’s a wonderful inspiration for prayer and hope-filled meditation on our own mortality.

(For more on praying for the souls in purgatory, check out paragraphs 210 and 211 of the Compendium of the Catechism).


The Craft of Beer

What’s in a craft beer?  Visiting the “new” Monroe Street, NE (Brookland) I was astounded by the number of craft beers available at a local pub.  Likewise, walking down the street passing two different liquor stores I saw displays of small-batch bourbons and even… this really threw me… multiple brands of craft-designed rye!… a liquor I thought all but extinct.  Searching the Post’s digital Style section, it seems this renaissance of craft liquors has been gaining IMG_0263steam for some time.  This could be a very good thing.  Why?

The Church has a long history with craft-made brews of all sorts.  In Rome we used to prize a hand-made green sambuca made by monks of the Castelli Romani.  For centuries, the monasteries of Belgium have set a gold standard in beer production.  After the Germanic invasions, wine production only continued in Gaul (France) because the mass required the use of quality wine.

What’s behind this Catholic love of all things distilled?  Put simply… they’re very human.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (para. 356) tells us:

Of all visible creatures… man is the only creature on earth that God has willed for its own sake. (cf Gaudium et sees 24.3) and he alone is called share, by knowledge and love, in God’s own life.

Genesis presents an escalating process of creation by which everything was made with a useful purpose (Gn. 1:28-31); everything except man.  Man was created by God in an act of freely chosen love for its own sake.  Made in God’s image, we exist beautifully for our own sake, with a capacity to freely love others for their own sake.  In addition, like our creator  we can make beautiful things with love for their own sake.  Greatest among these is life itself (see the linked talk by St. John Paull II on this topic).  Somewhat further down the chain but no less true, we can make “things” with love for their own sake… we call these things “beautiful.”

Whether it’s a monk perfecting a centuries-old process of growing hops for beer… or couple of thirty-somethings learning to make wine in someone’s basement, there’s something especially human about pouring time, talent, humility and love into making something beautiful for its own sake.  Is this perhaps what we detect in our craft beers, bourbons etc.?  Something different and more truly human than mass-produced machine-made mediocrity?  To be sure, many produce and consume these delicacies for all the wrong reasons… a reminder that we should drink with prudence temperance and responsibility… but keeping focused on the true good and beautiful, the growth of these new more artistic drinks may indeed be a reason for all of us to raise our glasses and say, “Cheers!”

The Gracious Ginkgo

Plants make for such wonderful inspiration when you’re walking down the street.  Lately I’ve been noticing an old favorite, the Ginkgo.  The German poet Goethe also took note of this tree and its bifurcated foliage while walking in Heidelberg.  In inspired him to IMG_0275write a poem:

This leaf from a tree in the East,
Has been given to my garden.
It reveals a certain secret,
Which pleases me and thoughtful people.
Is it a living being,
Which has separated in itself?
Or are these two, who chose
To be recognized as one?
Answering this kind of question,
Haven’t I found the proper meaning,
Don’t you feel in my songs,
That I’m one and double?

(Ginkgo Bilboa, by Goethe)

Sophomore year of college at GWU, noticed a tree outside my window.  I had never paid much attention to it before, but as fall got underway  and again in spring, it bore the most brilliant golden leaves.  Really, they were mesmerizing to watch out the window (either that or my studies were just that dull…).  I discovered that the tree was a Ginkgo and that there are many of them scattered throughout our city. IMG_0277

Ginkgos can be grown in any number of ways, but when they’re trained vertically as they often are in our narrow streets, they take on a gracious draping character.  Combine this with their luminous foliage and one finds an elegant ornament right in the middle of the side walk.  Frederick Law Olmsted once described Central Park, NY as an outdoor cathedral… If we apply similar language to Washington’s streets, the Ginkgo makes for wonderful gold leafing in the DC’s canopy in the spring and fall.

Praying with Music

‘just got back from hearing the BSO play Brahms at Strathmore… What a joy!  I was also challenged and surprised by how much I enjoyed a much more modern pice: Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto #1.  Think about the following exercise for your ride home in the car / metro or even while jogging on the treadmill.


It’s hard to get away from the noise of our world.  Hectic lives, car horns, the sound of the metro passing underground, smartphone alerts, push notifications… Even if none of these existed, you  can easily hear five languages at any given moment walking down a street or sitting at a cafe in DC.  Silence is golden… and ultimately the ideal setting for discernment of what’s going on inside each of us at any moment.  But coming from our noisy world, many find real meditative silence intimidating.  

Consider this… consider turning a weakness (distracting noise) into a strength (music for meditation). Some of what follows is drawn from St. Ignatius’ Loyola’s techniques for the discernment of spirits.  Other parts may sound like contemporary trends in “mindfulness.”  I’ve read significantly on both, and both influence my own prayer life, but what follows are ultimately just my own musings.

The Goal – A greater degree of self-understanding.

What you’ll need – music to listen to, some time by yourself, a pen and paper… and an open mind.

I find purely instrumental music (classical, jazz etc.) best for this.  Listening to lyrics can break my train of thought, but if you have the discipline to do so, you can use sung music as well.

Step 1: Listen to your music track once just to hear it.

Step 2: Listen again to get to know it better

Step 3: Listen a third time and begin taking notes.

What are you noting?  It depends on what you notice the most… maybe it’s the pace of the music… maybe a particular instrument stands out…maybe thoughts of an individual come to mind… or something you did …or forgot to do during the day.  Note your emotions too.

Don’t Judge Your Notes!  There’s no right or wrong here… You’re just collecting data to establish “This is where I’m at today.”  So you’re not “wrong” to notice a flute in the middle of a cello concerto.  Realizing you forgot your dry cleaning isn’t necessarily a foolish distraction in this exercise.  It’s just data.  Finally, the feelings you experience in the music make you neither vicious nor virtuous… they’re just data to be considered.  Analysis comes next.

Once you’ve journaled your experience of the music, begin asking the questions like “Why?”  or, “What was behind [fill in the blank]?  Some of the answers may mean nothing.  Some generate more questions.  Others may be self-illuminating.  Others may inspire prayer: “God, thank you for [fill in the blank].” or, “Lord help me to [fill in the blank].”  Still others may need unpacking over time.

Finally, consider that the more deeply we explore the mystery of our own self, the more we begin to know the mystery of Christ who is our origin and end… all of which can only be helpful as we venture out into the noisy world all over again tomorrow.

Seeing more than stone, steel and streets

Walking through the streets as a kid, my imagination used to run wild.  Light posts were never just light posts, they were potential laser canon hiding places… the clump of trees in the park wasn’t just a clump of trees, it was an enchanted grove… columns and building features were, of course, remnants of long lost civilizations.  Like I said, my childlike imagination ran wild in a very C.S. Lewis sort of a way.

When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away the things of a child.  (I Cor 13:11)

Today I still see more in the buildings, parks and other features of daily life… No longer through a child’s imagination, nor through rose-colored glasses of adult escapism… Today I see through eyes of informed faith that excites everything.  There is more moving behind our world than meets the eye.  Take for example the DC metro.  It’s bronze color scheme is an intentional nod from designers Massimo and Lella Vignelli to our city’s monuments, especially the equestrian statues that mark our [in]famous traffic circles.  Behind these monuments we find not just biographies of individuals, but also monumental virtues: patriotism, self-sacrifice, honesty, fortitude.  All of these virtues represent “a more perfect union” that exists in our minds and we hope will one day exist in our world… but for the moment that bronze tone keeps firing our imagination and our will to keep working for it.

Paul-Signac-Place-des-Lices-1893-1024x822Christ , Mt.Athos, 13th century

A similar dynamic exists in Christian art.  Classical icons always have a gold leaf background reminding the viewer of heaven: a world beyond for which we can strive.  I was pleasantly surprised to find a similar dynamic in modern art at the Phillips Collection.

The gallery’s current exhibition, “Neo-Impressionism and the Dream of Realities” beautifully explores pointillism and other forms of neo-impressionist art.  Often, the backgrounds of these paintings are marked by arabesque patterns of foliage, clouds, water etc. The curators remark that the style has “a capacity to move ‘beyond the real’ and to ‘fix the dream of reality’… Canvasses maintained roots in reality, but infused this naturalist ground…to yield a kind of ultra-reality.”  (More about the Phillips Collection in “Touring Tips”)

Walking through DC what do you see?  If the plain appearance of stone, bronze, paint and glass isn’t satisfying, consider looking to the virtues, the histories, and the striving behind them.  You may find a more beautiful sense of our home… and perhaps even a nobler self-conceit.

Stay Tuned! Coming Soon: Music and Inner Life

Johannes Brahms

This Thursday at The Music Center at Strathmore I’ll be listening to Brahms’ Second Symphony… one of my favorites… but it got me thinking: music is an amazing entry into inner realities… including one’s relationship with God.  Stay tuned for reflection on how to use any kind of music, from Bryan Adams to Brahms to learn more about the interior life!