Aaaahhh. It's been a long time.
Computer dysfunction adventures have let me join another world for a while. The DVD and CD drive on the iMac became totally dysfunctional, so the machine has spent over a month in the shop. I just got her back. She still doesn't have a functioning CD/DVD drive, because it's still on "backorder" from Apple. They say they'll send someone out to the house to replace it when it becomes available.
The iMac is very QUIET again. Thanks to Rick the technician at MacTown.
I'm very much behind on some projects, notably shipping copies of "Sanctification of Time in the Third Millennium," for which I've received a number of requests lately. Can't make CD's without the computer. I also owe St. Joe's Youth Choir some pictures, and they've almost forgotten that we took them.
HOWEVER, low-tech time is an advantage, too. I have been having a mud and stone experience which has been thoroughly enjoyable. When I left Holy Trinity Parish, people asked me what I was going to do. After all, how can you leave a high-powered, good-paying job at the top of the heap unless you're going to a higher heap? I told them I had walkways to build. I've been dragging stones from up and down the gullys. I've been moving the garden topsoil over to the side of the new walkway, and using the good old Bullitt County clay that lives just under the surface. The idea is to set the stones in clay muck. (That part's done. Whew!) If it stops raining, this can dry. The plan then is to cover the stones with more goopy clay, filling in between the stones and even covering the tops. Once this dries solid, we can wash off the tops and rediscover the stones.
We don't know if this is going to actually work, but I sure like the way it looks! See pictures at homepage.mac.com/mhettinger Garden Pathway
I got the idea off the web, and can't find the article again, but someone has done it and it was very durable. She's had it for 10 years. Looked great in the pictures. She used regular formed stones, not fieldstone, but maybe this will work as well. Laura helped me get started, and now that she's going to be living here for a while, maybe we can finish it together. That's a good thought.
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
Frank and I both agree that Monday is a good day--clean slate, beginning of the work week, ready to go.
I have on my mind a family member (cousin by marriage) who finds herself in a horrible situation, and none of us knew. How can we help? I've written a note to her, but will have to talk to Frank before I send it. I hope she will be able to start clean, fresh, and start over. Part of me is appalled at the situation, and part of me is awe of her deceased husband's commitment to his convictions, and at her commitment to her family. And I can see that their actions could have been GREAT, in the way that true greatness sails above and ahead of the world. But he's gone, and what a mess.
I didn't go to the silo today. I stayed home to work at compiling a list of the Lenten antiphons for Morning and Evening Prayer. While I'm doing this, I write the translations in "Christian Prayer" and "Antiphonale Monasticum." I did this for Advent, and found the Latin Gregorian chants for almost all the morning and evening prayer antiphons. Many thanks to Whitaker's Words . This is a standalone (or web-based) Latin-to-English dictionary. By doing this transcribing, I'm starting to understand the Latin. Sometimes I can look at a text, and the corresponding English version comes to me. Sometimes.
Of course, I always try to translate any piece of chant before I sing it. I'm hoping that, somehow, this will be my seminary.
Fr. Pat Creed astounded me with his presence--his connection to a deeper meaning in scripture and liturgy--and over time, I think I've identified at least part of that connection. He attended seminary in the Pre-Vatican Catholic Church, in which the Latin phrases were sung and chanted, becoming nuggets of meaning stored in the psyche in ways that we don't use any more. I want to develop that part of myself and that connection with God, culture, and the universe.
One of the Lenten antiphons is "Tunc assumpsit eum diabolus in sanctam civitatem," (Antiphonale Monasticum p. 344). I notice that this Latin version of the story of the temptation of Christ (in which the devil takes Jesus to the citidel and invites him to throw himself down) could have an entirely different meaning than the one I've become accustomed to, if I'm reading the Latin right.
The devil says: "Si Filius Dei es, mitte te deorsum."
OK, the first part translates, "You're the Son of God."
"Mitte" means "throw;" "te" means "you";
Using Whittaker's Words, "deorsum" spits out "down, downwards, beneath, below; (motion/direction/order);in lower situation."
Well. Look at that: "In lower situation." Maybe we aren't talking about leaping physically off the top of a building. Maybe we're talking about the potential to be at the top of the heap in the big city, and considering letting ourselves go to a lower situation.
If we consider the last meaning--that the devil tempted Jesus with leaving all the social trappings of his ministry and his potential social power, perhaps becoming a simple person again--we have an entirely different concept to meditate upon as we sing this chant. Usually the devil's temptation is interpreted as the temptation to TAKE power. Today I see that the tempation being offered is to LEAVE power, forget the games and the gimmicks and the crap. This could be appealing, right?
It appeals to me. I'm stubbornly abandoning power within the social structure of church and parish and the professional world. And here is a text calling my decision a temptation to be resisted.
Time will tell, maybe. Cousin Ted took hold of all the trappings of social power, eliteness and legal prowess, grabbed it and rode that wave with all his might. He focused his effort, though, not on himself, but on the millions of aborted babies, whom he saw and felt being murdered, over and over, day in and day out. His powerful faith told him that his potential to combat this must be followed, and that, even if he had to gamble, all would be well in time.
I know he loved simple things, too--the Ohio river, and the stars that hang above it late at night. He loved his family. Was he tempted to let go of the mission?
Had cancer not struck him at such a young age, perhaps he would have ridden that wave, driving it to attain the potential good that he could see.
Perhaps he did, and we just don't know it yet.
I have on my mind a family member (cousin by marriage) who finds herself in a horrible situation, and none of us knew. How can we help? I've written a note to her, but will have to talk to Frank before I send it. I hope she will be able to start clean, fresh, and start over. Part of me is appalled at the situation, and part of me is awe of her deceased husband's commitment to his convictions, and at her commitment to her family. And I can see that their actions could have been GREAT, in the way that true greatness sails above and ahead of the world. But he's gone, and what a mess.
I didn't go to the silo today. I stayed home to work at compiling a list of the Lenten antiphons for Morning and Evening Prayer. While I'm doing this, I write the translations in "Christian Prayer" and "Antiphonale Monasticum." I did this for Advent, and found the Latin Gregorian chants for almost all the morning and evening prayer antiphons. Many thanks to Whitaker's Words . This is a standalone (or web-based) Latin-to-English dictionary. By doing this transcribing, I'm starting to understand the Latin. Sometimes I can look at a text, and the corresponding English version comes to me. Sometimes.
Of course, I always try to translate any piece of chant before I sing it. I'm hoping that, somehow, this will be my seminary.
Fr. Pat Creed astounded me with his presence--his connection to a deeper meaning in scripture and liturgy--and over time, I think I've identified at least part of that connection. He attended seminary in the Pre-Vatican Catholic Church, in which the Latin phrases were sung and chanted, becoming nuggets of meaning stored in the psyche in ways that we don't use any more. I want to develop that part of myself and that connection with God, culture, and the universe.
One of the Lenten antiphons is "Tunc assumpsit eum diabolus in sanctam civitatem," (Antiphonale Monasticum p. 344). I notice that this Latin version of the story of the temptation of Christ (in which the devil takes Jesus to the citidel and invites him to throw himself down) could have an entirely different meaning than the one I've become accustomed to, if I'm reading the Latin right.
The devil says: "Si Filius Dei es, mitte te deorsum."
OK, the first part translates, "You're the Son of God."
"Mitte" means "throw;" "te" means "you";
Using Whittaker's Words, "deorsum" spits out "down, downwards, beneath, below; (motion/direction/order);in lower situation."
Well. Look at that: "In lower situation." Maybe we aren't talking about leaping physically off the top of a building. Maybe we're talking about the potential to be at the top of the heap in the big city, and considering letting ourselves go to a lower situation.
If we consider the last meaning--that the devil tempted Jesus with leaving all the social trappings of his ministry and his potential social power, perhaps becoming a simple person again--we have an entirely different concept to meditate upon as we sing this chant. Usually the devil's temptation is interpreted as the temptation to TAKE power. Today I see that the tempation being offered is to LEAVE power, forget the games and the gimmicks and the crap. This could be appealing, right?
It appeals to me. I'm stubbornly abandoning power within the social structure of church and parish and the professional world. And here is a text calling my decision a temptation to be resisted.
Time will tell, maybe. Cousin Ted took hold of all the trappings of social power, eliteness and legal prowess, grabbed it and rode that wave with all his might. He focused his effort, though, not on himself, but on the millions of aborted babies, whom he saw and felt being murdered, over and over, day in and day out. His powerful faith told him that his potential to combat this must be followed, and that, even if he had to gamble, all would be well in time.
I know he loved simple things, too--the Ohio river, and the stars that hang above it late at night. He loved his family. Was he tempted to let go of the mission?
Had cancer not struck him at such a young age, perhaps he would have ridden that wave, driving it to attain the potential good that he could see.
Perhaps he did, and we just don't know it yet.
Monday, March 08, 2004
Frank and I talked this morning about how we act like our parents, and how we feel about that. In general, it's good for both of us. We both get much of our working behavior from our fathers, and I get a lot from my mom. When we notice this behavior, it feels good, empowering--like a conversation with them that's gone well. We don't see much bad in our relationship stemming from this.
At the silo, I sang:
Morning Prayer--Monday of the 2nd week of Lent. Noticed: Psalm 19A
The heavens proclaim the glory of God
and the firmament shows forth the work of his hands.
Day unto day takes up the story
and night unto jnight makes known the message.
NO speech, no word, no voice is heard
yet their span extends through all the earth,
their words to the utmost bounds of the world.
There he has placed a tent for the sun;
it comes forth like a bridegroom coming from his tent,
rejoices like a champion to run its course.
At the end of the sky is the rising of the sun;
to the furthest end of the sky is its course.
There is nothing concealed from its burning heat.
I've never really noticed this part of Psalm 19 before. Earlier this morning we'd prayed, "Holy Spirit, we look for you in the rising of the sun, in unexpected smiles from people we meet, in our work and in our relationships. Be with us today."
This would be a good psalm to work up as a unit, with its Latin antiphon. The antiphon in morning prayer is: "The vaults of heaven ring with your praise, O Lord." How can I go about finding the Latin chant for this?
Well, let me see where I find Psalm 19 in the Antiphonale Monasticum. Nope. It doesn't work that way. Maybe I can get the internet to translate the english into Latin.
Google says:
Your search - Latin "The vaults of heaven ring with your praise, O Lord." - did not match any documents.
(Interesting. The ads are trying to sell me O-rings. The only thing I know of that needs O-rings is the Challenger shuttle. )
It doesn't look as if the Antiphon is a line in the psalm.
I just got 39 Latin possiblibites for the English "vault" . That's not particularly useful. So, I guess I'll just keep my eyes open for this one.
Back to the program--after morning prayer, I sang "Morning Has Broken" on "Oh." I'm working on the O sound, and haven't done much of it in the past few days. I'll sing for Amy on Wednesday, so that gives me three days. INteresting: in the silo, it was easy to hit all the notes, even when I pitched it in a high key. Confidence? or just the echo?
New piece: Tibi dixit cor meum, quaesivi vultum tuum, vultum tuum Domine requiram: ne avertas faciem tuam a me. This is from Psalm 26(27), but it does not correspond to the text, as far as I can tell. The chant has a distinctive sound-effect--namely the long expressive passage on Do, dropping finally to la. So, I think this gives license to explore the canyon effect. I can't wait to try this one in St. Joe church, where the long echo is probably more like the writers experienced.
I sang Misereris omnium, Domine (Sap. 11, 24-25.27; Ps. 56, Graduale Triplex 62), which is exquisite. That which guides the universe takes even our faults, sins and failings, and, in loving them and us, can turn them into good. Our penitance is required, though. Humility and repentance, and constant attention to making amends.
Big decision to make in the next hour: Do I call Barbara, who needs help at the parish? I got her into that. But I don't want to commit to it. If I go for a few days, am I dragging myself into something I have managed to walk away from, and should stay away from? Or is it the right thing? I have more than enough to do here.
At the silo, I sang:
Morning Prayer--Monday of the 2nd week of Lent. Noticed: Psalm 19A
The heavens proclaim the glory of God
and the firmament shows forth the work of his hands.
Day unto day takes up the story
and night unto jnight makes known the message.
NO speech, no word, no voice is heard
yet their span extends through all the earth,
their words to the utmost bounds of the world.
There he has placed a tent for the sun;
it comes forth like a bridegroom coming from his tent,
rejoices like a champion to run its course.
At the end of the sky is the rising of the sun;
to the furthest end of the sky is its course.
There is nothing concealed from its burning heat.
I've never really noticed this part of Psalm 19 before. Earlier this morning we'd prayed, "Holy Spirit, we look for you in the rising of the sun, in unexpected smiles from people we meet, in our work and in our relationships. Be with us today."
This would be a good psalm to work up as a unit, with its Latin antiphon. The antiphon in morning prayer is: "The vaults of heaven ring with your praise, O Lord." How can I go about finding the Latin chant for this?
Well, let me see where I find Psalm 19 in the Antiphonale Monasticum. Nope. It doesn't work that way. Maybe I can get the internet to translate the english into Latin.
Google says:
Your search - Latin "The vaults of heaven ring with your praise, O Lord." - did not match any documents.
(Interesting. The ads are trying to sell me O-rings. The only thing I know of that needs O-rings is the Challenger shuttle. )
It doesn't look as if the Antiphon is a line in the psalm.
I just got 39 Latin possiblibites for the English "vault" . That's not particularly useful. So, I guess I'll just keep my eyes open for this one.
Back to the program--after morning prayer, I sang "Morning Has Broken" on "Oh." I'm working on the O sound, and haven't done much of it in the past few days. I'll sing for Amy on Wednesday, so that gives me three days. INteresting: in the silo, it was easy to hit all the notes, even when I pitched it in a high key. Confidence? or just the echo?
New piece: Tibi dixit cor meum, quaesivi vultum tuum, vultum tuum Domine requiram: ne avertas faciem tuam a me. This is from Psalm 26(27), but it does not correspond to the text, as far as I can tell. The chant has a distinctive sound-effect--namely the long expressive passage on Do, dropping finally to la. So, I think this gives license to explore the canyon effect. I can't wait to try this one in St. Joe church, where the long echo is probably more like the writers experienced.
I sang Misereris omnium, Domine (Sap. 11, 24-25.27; Ps. 56, Graduale Triplex 62), which is exquisite. That which guides the universe takes even our faults, sins and failings, and, in loving them and us, can turn them into good. Our penitance is required, though. Humility and repentance, and constant attention to making amends.
Big decision to make in the next hour: Do I call Barbara, who needs help at the parish? I got her into that. But I don't want to commit to it. If I go for a few days, am I dragging myself into something I have managed to walk away from, and should stay away from? Or is it the right thing? I have more than enough to do here.
Saturday, March 06, 2004
Wondering about blogging. Wondering about where I'm going. Needing a way to get on track again, with responsible life paramaters.
Aimed high, went high. Did I make the mark?
Well, it depends on which mark we're talking about. "Sin" is supposed to be be a word that means "missing the mark."
Can't miss the mark if you never aim for it.
Flew too close to the sun.
Looking for the light with my feet on the ground. Leaving nothing behind, can it be seen? Can it be followed?
Aimed high, went high. Did I make the mark?
Well, it depends on which mark we're talking about. "Sin" is supposed to be be a word that means "missing the mark."
Can't miss the mark if you never aim for it.
Flew too close to the sun.
Looking for the light with my feet on the ground. Leaving nothing behind, can it be seen? Can it be followed?
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