I <3 Augustine

I threatened a friend that I was going to make a shirt that had the title of this post on it. All I need is a t-shirt and some fabric paint, and I'm on my way.

In the interest of no longer being the only person who hasn't read it, I picked up a copy of Augustine's Confessions at Borders the other day. I only wish that I had more time to read!! I've sat down with it a couple times and devoured as much as I could before other obligations called me away from my reading. I'm only about thirty pages into the work right now, but I'm just amazed at Augustine's description of his childhood and adolescence.

He claims, among other things, to not have enjoyed learning in his youth. His parents and teachers had to beat him so that he would do his work. Augustine, great Doctor of the Church . . . had to be beaten for not studying. He is an encouragement to all scholars who sometimes find themselves less than truly engaged in their work.

Augustine knew the pathetic state of lukewarmness as a youth, too, before his descent into plain depravity. He was raised with a basic understanding of God, and even sought Baptism when he was deathly ill in his pre-teen years. Yet when his health was restored, this was forgotten, and he went on to "enjoy" himself as he saw fit.

Evil for the evil's sake was among the thrills he found. Among things, as a boy, Augustine would steal things for the sheer thrill of doing something that he wasn't supposed to. He didn't particular enjoy what he stole; it was the sin itself that enticed him. Later, as he advanced into adolesence, it was the flesh that enticed him more than anything, and he willingly gave himself over to its bidding.

Is it awful that I love him all the more for his flaws? Not for the flaws themselves, but for the fact that he overcame them. He failed, he fell--yet he he repented. Granted, I haven't gotten that far in the Confessions, but I know that's the end result. Augustine wasn't a golden boy; he was a human being who made serious mistakes, wandered off in search of truth, and finally found it and embraced it. Who wouldn't love that?

Father Jolly!!

I have recently been introduced to the glory that is Father Jolly.

Enjoy!

Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth?

Yesterday morning I was too ill from Saturday night's revels (no, not alcohol--too much dairy, unfortunately!) to make the drive to Harrisburg for Mass, so I decided that I would wait until I was feeling better and attend a local Novus Ordo.

I think I should have gritted my teeth and made the drive to Harrisburg.

I'm not here to launch into a theological diatribe on the N.O. I believe that it's valid, etc. No, my complaint is from the aesthetic plain. I'm railing against the drums, bass, tenor saxophone, piano, and five lousy female singers that I was subjected to. Honestly!! They couldn't even sing in tune. And I think the only pattern the drummer knew was "dun dun *cymbal* dun dun *cymbal*". That accompanied absolutely everything, not excluding the "Holy, Holy, Holy" and the "Agnus Dei". Beyond the banality of the instruments themselves, the actual musical structure of the "selections" was worse than that of your average pop song. Let's not even get started on the awfulness of the actual texts of the songs. GAH!! I swear, just about every line either started with "I" or had "me" somewhere in it. Honestly, if we're supposed to be praising God, is it really necessary to talk about ourselves the whole way through the song?

After just over an hour of this, I left Mass with a pitful and glazed stare. I was thoroughly traumatized and depressed. Such a sorry state for liturgical music to be in. I'm claiming I want to lead a liturgical music revolution, and I after yesterday's adventures, I understand the need for it more than ever. Oof.

Musical Graces

It is indeed an odd feeling to anticipate and prepare for something for four years and then find it, surprisingly, everything that you hoped it would be . . . and over in an hour. Yesterday was my senior flute recital, which featured works by Anna Bon, Jacques Ibert, Robert Dick, and Sergei Prokoveiv. I stressed and spazzed and freaked out for months, up until the beginning of January, when I started to simply not care (which was also a bad thing . . .). Finally, it was crunch time (two weeks), and I worked hard but not particularly hard. I tried to regain a sense of why I was a musician in the first place. And then, left with only three hours to the performance, I ran off to the local Perpetual Adoration chapel and begged for a miracle: a good recital.

Sometimes brashness pays off in prayer: I got what I asked for. I wasn't really nervous, but I was supremely excited. Not everything was perfect; nothing ever is in a performance. But it was intense and heart-felt, and that was all I really wanted.

I got rave reviews from my friends who made up the audience, which included a dear priest friend of mine. I served as a choir director at his chapel for about nine months but haven't been able to see him very much lately. It was a pure joy to have him present for such a significant musical accomplishment in my life. I also had friends drive up from Virginia and down from Connecticut to be present. I was surrounded by love and support and the people who had seen me through this degree for the past four years. It was wonderful.

I also got a thrilling piece of news at the dinner that followed. I have some family connections at Notre Dame, and my dad had been speaking with one of them. According to this source, the Medieval Studies Institute is very excited about me and wants to find some way to make it possible for me to join them this fall!! I couldn't believe it!! A successful recital, and the promise of a brilliant graduate school career all in one day. Absolutely amazing!

Deo gratias.

The Medievals

In what is quite probably my favorite class this semester, Renaissance and Reformation History, we've been talking about whether or not the current system of three historical periods (ancient, medieval, modern) appropriately classify the behavior and thoughts of humanity. This system regards the Renaissance as the beginning of the modern age.

The difference between the medieval mindset and the modern mindset used to be a favorite topic for pondering for me, and this class is re-opening those paths of thought. Today in class, Dr. Wessley mentioned that there were almost no autobiographies written during the Middle Ages. The last autobiography to come out of the ancient world was St. Augustine's. There followed a 700 blank space for all intents and purposes, according to this professor. It wasn't until the Renaissance that autobiography in the form of memoirs, journals, and the like were really revived.

Music and art demonstrate the same phenomenon; they almost never have a known composer or creator. "Anonymous" is the name most commonly found. What does this mean? I believe that in the Middle Ages, man was more concerned with God than with himself, with Heaven rather than with earth. I know that generalizations are dangerous, and that every age has its exceptions, but I really believe that the Middle Ages understood man completely differently. Man was here for a short time to glorify God and save his soul.

The Renaissance men and women, in general, were humanists: interested in human achievements and glories. If this is the case, then of course there will journals and memoirs and biographies and known composers and famed artists. The emphasis is on what man is doing rather than in how what man is doing goes on to give glory to God. It's an incomplete philosophy.

To get back to my original point about the different periods of history, I think that the three eras of history are well divided. The ancients were primarily pre-Christian and very infant Christian. The medievals participated in the fruits of a society where the Church held the most sway. The moderns focused (and continue to focus) on man rather than on anything higher. I can't help wondering if it is truly possible to return to a medieval scoeity, in the sense that as a whole, society would be more concerned with God than with man. It would require a complete 180 in the way that people think; that's difficult to achieve.

St. Francis de Sales says . . .

As I was cruising the blogrings during my afternoon rehearsal break, I wandered across these in the Sober Sophomore's blog. I think they are timely.

Go courageously to do whatever you are called to do. If you have any fears, say to your soul: “The Lord will provide for us.” If your weakness troubles you,cast yourselves on God, and trust in him. The apostles were mostly unlearned fishermen, but God gave them learning enough for the work they had to do. Trust in him, depend on his providence; fear nothing.
~St. Francis de Sales


Even though everything turns and changes around us, we must ever remain steady-always looking, striving, and aspiring toward God. No matter what course the ship takes, no matter whether it sails to the east, west, north, or south, no matter what winds drive it on,the mariner's needle never points in any direction except toward the polar star.
~St. Francis de Sales