Advent Musical Reflection #2 :: 2nd Week: "Open" Regina Spektor

I chose a Regina Spektor song last year for the second week of Advent, too. I wonder if there's a connection? There is a lot I want to say about this song and Advent, but I'll start with just a general expression of love for Regina Spektor. She's fantastic, isn't she? Anyway, "Open" has a beautiful, slow build reflected in the instrumentation and dynamics. It starts minimally and a little dark. Even though the content of the verses do not get much lighter, it remains hopeful in the chorus and the music. There it is again, hope. Advent is about waiting in darkness, with hope, for light.

Potentially lovely
Perpetually human
Suspended and open
Open

With those words, the song switches from minor to major. The piano is fuller and the vocalization louder. Just because we are waiting, that does not mean our time is devoid of joy or beauty. Waiting can be hard, boring, painful. It is definitely "perpetually human." Sometimes it can be "potentially lovely." The situations in the verses are sometimes painful, "wires 'round my fingers" or the gasps for breath in between the lines about being trapped in the last verse. I wrote last week about the journey being hard and sometimes unknown. To pretend it is not is denial - one of the reasons I like Catholicism. It's homey and rich and it's not very cuddly. No one accuses Catholicism of trying to con you with warm fuzzies. (Or maybe I'm watching too much Daria on Hulu?)

Even though the song is not particularly happy, it recognizes beauty. In the bridge, everyone is confined but they see beauty in the falling snow and the streetlights. It's a delicate part of the song and almost a rest from the tugging extremes expressed between the verses and the chorus. Throughout, the piano anchors you throughout the song with a steady pulse and lovely counterpoint to the vocals. It asks you to look beyond the hard, boring, painful.

Then comes the word "open," often repeated, is triumphant. Every time she sings it, it has more power and is more full, joyful even. The song asks you to recognize the potentially lovely, accept the perpetually human, and embrace being suspended and open. Be open to all the experiences we endure, beautiful, painful, confining, lovely. Be open to allowing experiences to affect you. Be open to the Nativity event, the Incarnation, God coming to earth. It can be a slow build, like this song. On the last chorus, the last "opens," we get the finale we have been waiting for.

So that this week is actually a reflection, I'll leave you with some questions:
- Where do/did you recognize beauty in the coming week? This past week? In your Christmas preparations?
- What do you need to make yourself more open to this Advent? In the new year?
- Finish the last line of the song, "Open up your eyes and then..."

Last Year's Advent Musical Reflections

Here they are, all my musical reflections from last Advent. Use them again, or refresh your memory. This year's start tomorrow!

Advent Musical Reflection #1 :: 1st Week: "Generations" Fr. Kent O'Connor (music)

It's not on YouTube, it's too new and awesome, so if you're not buying Fr. Kent's Advent album (which can be found on iTunes, Amazon, and CDBaby), I recommend you go to Spotify and listen to it.

This is a rare song that makes a jam out of the genealogy from Matthew. I mean, rare rare, because I've never heard of anyone else doing it. Then again, I haven't been following Danielle Rose too closely, and she's the only other person I can think of who could pull it off. (Yes, this is the kind of promotion you get when you're friends with me. It's even free.)

I chose this song for the first week of Advent because it's the beginning. And as the song goes, "We'll start at the very beginning, it's a very good place to start." The story of the coming of Jesus does not start with an angel appearing to Mary. It starts with Abraham, the father of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. All three peoples recognize the story of God working in our lives. Christians call it "salvation history," the history of God saving us, person by person. The story spreads and more people come to follow. So as Advent begins, look back on the rest of the calendar year: What brought you to this point? Who brought you to this point? What is your salvation history? As you look forward as the new liturgical year begins not so far from the calendar year, How do you want to move forward? How have you seen God's promise "that all will be fine," come through this year? If nothing seems fine this year, do you have hope in that promise for the future? Jesus is coming - look for hope.


Advent Musical Reflection #2 :: 2nd Week: "Laughing With" Regina Spektor

For this week I chose "Laughing With," probably the most theologically correct pop song out there. I would rank it higher than quite a few Christian songs, too. I like this song because it asks you to look at your image of God, to ask yourself if and when you think about God. There's not a lot of frills in this song, it's very to the point. "No one laughs at God in a hospital, no one laughs at God in a war." To put it plainly and politely, stuff is real.

It might be a silly thing to say about life, but it is most definitely real. There is no time when it seems more real than the painful times, all the times Spektor lists in the verses and any other times that come right to mind. In those times, we tend to lean on God, or blame God, find comfort in God or cease to believe. What she's saying here is to pay attention to how you see God in the bad times and "when you're at a cocktail party and listening to a good God-themed joke."

Advent is a very short season, less than four weeks. We don't have much time to ease into it, so stuff has to get real fast. What are we preparing for? God getting real - the Incarnation, the birth of the second person in the Holy Trinity as a screaming, eating-and-pooping baby. If you've spent any time with babies, you know they are terribly real. Our God, the unknowable, all-powerful wanted to make sure we understood him in a real way, not just as a good punchline. After all, Emmanuel means "God with us." So, in your preparations this week, think about how you think about God. Is God real to you? Have you ever thought of our Lord and Savior as a baby you hold in your arms? As someone you would go do a very real activity with, like go on a hike or to a baseball game? As the friend who's shoulder you cry on in painful times?

Advent Reflection #2.5 :: Fiesta de Virgen Edition: Excerpt from Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather

The scene: The old Archbishop felt called to pray in the church that night, and found Sada, the old Mexican woman kept as a slave by an American family, had come to pray as well. She was not allowed to come to Mass.

"Never, as he afterward told Father Vaillant, had it been permitted to him to behold such deep experience of the holy joy of religion as on that pale December night. He was able to feel, kneeling beside her, the preciousness of the things of the altar to her who was without possessions; the tapers, the image of the Virgin, the figures of the saints, the Cross that took away indignity from suffering and made pain and poverty a means of fellowship with Christ. Kneeling beside the much enduring bond-woman, he experienced those holy mysteries as he had done in his young manhood. He seemed able to feel all it meant to her to know that there was a Kind Woman in Heaven, though there were such cruel ones on earth. Old people, who have felt blows an toil and known the world's hard hand, need, even more than children do, a woman's tenderness. Only a Woman, divine, could know all that a woman can suffer.
---
..."'O Sacred Heart of Mary!' She murmured by his side, and he felt how that name was food and raiment, friend and mother to her. He received the miracle in her heart into his own, saw through her eyes, knew that his poverty was as bleak as hers. When the Kingdom of heaven had first come into the world, into a cruel world of torture and slaves and masters, He who brought it had said, 'And whosoever is least among you, the same shall be first in the Kingdom of Heaven.' This church was Sada's house, and he was a servant in it."

Advent Musical Reflection #3 :: 3rd Week Gaudate Sunday: "Get Happy/Happy Days" Pink Martini fr. Rufus Wainwright

Of my favorite liturgical season, this Sunday is my favorite day. On Gaudate Sunday the priests' vestments are pink, (they insist on calling it a manlier "rose," but we all know it's pink) hence our song from Pink Martini. I like to celebrate by wearing pink every day this week; if you know me, you know that's not hard.

I love this day because it's about joy. Joy is deeper than happiness or delight, and it has to come from something more than a good piece of chocolate or your favorite tv show. Joy breaks through the status quo to bring you to a new sense of self. In C.S. Lewis's spiritual autobiography Surprised by Joy he defines joy as almost an event that changes his perspective. It's the Holy Spirit making itself known in his life.

Last week, I talked about the "realness" of the season. That's another reason I love this Sunday: it's a reminder that in all this drudgery there is joy. Hope. We ARE looking forward to something, remember? This season is about the coming of Jesus! Rejoice! It is so easy to forget in the crunch time before Christmas. There are only 10 days left to finish your shopping, your crafts, your baking, your travel plans, and for students add finals. It is so easy to forget what, in this season of preparation, we are preparing for. The other important thing to be said about joy is that it is not exclusive. You can have joy AND be sad, or mad, or any of those emotions we like to not talk about. Joy does not have to deny suffering to exist; joy is found in those nuggets of hope that persist when everything else is pushing down. That pink candle is saying that the day isn't here yet, but it is coming. You are allowed to take a breath, discover your hope, and be joyful.

So here is Gaudate Sunday, dressed in pink, to say to you that the one who conquers death is coming, the one we've been waiting for, the New Star, the Light of the World, the Savior of Nations, yes, THAT guy. C'mon get happy, happy days are here again! That's right, "Forget your troubles, happy days, c'mon get happy, are here again, you better chase all your cares away, the skies above are clear again, shout Hallelujah, so let's sing a song, c'mon get happy, of cheer again, get ready for the judgement day, happy days are here again."

Advent Musical Reflection #4 :: 4th Week: "I Found a Reason" Cat Power

For this week, I picked a short song as this is a very short week of Advent! I specifically chose the Cat Power version, which is as much based on the Velvet Underground original as Disney's Pocahontas. (Confession: I knew this one first, thanks to a great mix from Elise Keeney.)

This song is simple, pared down, with only voice and minimal piano. We're at the end of our Advent journey; we've discussed, reflected, hosted parties, baked cookies, shopped, sang O Come O Come Emmanuel for four weeks. My reflections have gotten longer and longer, too - did you think you'd ever get to the end of last week's? Here I am saying, ignore the rest. This is it. At the end, intellectual posturing and grandstanding are meaningless; it's just you and God.

The Nativity is almost here. Last week I listed off names for Jesus that are grand and glorious. This week, I say just think of the baby, lying in a manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes. The baby Joseph was told in a dream to love. We might use that fancy-to-us sounding name of Emmanuel, if we remember all it means is "God with us." You and God.

So, as we approach Christmas, use this song as a prayer. Say that you Found a Reason. Put all your hurt, joy, love, pain, peace into these words: "I do believe in all the things you say. What comes is better than what came before. And you better run run, run run to me. Better run, run run, run run, to me. Better come, come come, come come to me. You'd better run."