In a frequently-broadcast “Christmas
at St. Olaf’s” special from some years ago now, a chorus member recalls what
the conductor told the chorus as they began rehearsals of Randall Thompson’s
haunting choral work, Alleluia. The conductor said something like, “Imagine
that there is a chorus being sung all the time, just beyond our hearing, and
when you sing this piece, you are joining that invisible chorus.”
I thought of this on the two nights
last week when I was able to visit the Washington National Cathedral, during
their week of experiential prayer opportunities that they called “Seeing
Deeper.” I tend to be a choral geek,
so I chose the evenings when I could hear the virtuoso Cathedra
chorus as part of this event. Others
may have chosen tai chi or yoga or simply sitting and reading or praying in
this beautiful shared holy space. For me
it was wonderful being in the nave with
no chairs – seeing the marble work and observing people being present to the
place and the music in various ways – and with a sense that everyone’s way of
being there was deeply “right,” whatever form it took.
I really enjoyed moving around the nave –as
the singing was going on -just walking up and down, around the great pillars
and in the galleries, as this rich polyphonic music was being offered. As I listened to the treble notes, gorgeously
carried by the acoustics of the place, I let my eyes follow the upward reach of
the gothic arches, and observe the visual rhythms of the vaults, and notice the
fine, lacy stonework of some of the side chapels. I’ve been in the Cathedral many times for
many events, but moving, rather than sitting, in this prayed-in space, was a
new experience.
By Friday
evening, when the place had been open all week, I really sensed a deepened spirit
of prayer among those gathered. The labyrinths were laid out, and as I listened to the music,of the Allegri Miserere, the people who were walking and praying in the
labyrinth seemed to be joining in a dance;
those who were sitting or lying on yoga mats, simply meditating and
listening, were also tuned into something holy that the music and the space
were carrying. People were lighting
candles, praying in the chapels, sitting
on the floor in the Great Choir as well as in the pews, some even crossing
themselves with water as they passed the Baptismal font .
This was
truly an experience of corporate prayer
There were no words of instruction being offered about how to pray. We knew how ; we were joining the chorus of
prayer that goes on always, each in our own way. But in that place, together. We were responding to the invitation that is
always there – expressed in the words of Sunday’s gospel (John 1:39) , and
offered to the world: “come and see”
what it is like, to dwell together in holy presence: come, and see.
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