The “inner monastic” is a nice metaphor for the goal of spiritual formation. This image will always be shaped by our prejudices of the true goal, our limited experience, and our own psychological needs and fears. So our progress toward the goal will require constant revision. We can unpack it as the cultivation of attitude (e.g. of longing, of proper detachment), of knowledge, (e.g. of particular practices, but also knowledge of oneself), and of skills (e.g. listening, self-critique).  Over this coming Fall, I will begin a series of posts on these aspects of waking your inner monastic.  Please join us.

When singing the St. Matthew Passion with the Munich Bach choir one moment stood out: silence. The silence entered when our conductor intentionally held onto the rest after Jesus bowed his head and died. He stood still, with his arms in suspension, cradling the time. It was as though the whole audience sighed together, like our hearts stood still for a moment, pausing in unison. Since then I have known that conducting the pause is as important as conducting the whole Passion...

One can hardly say anything more meaningful than is already said in this ethereal Aria of JS Bach’s St. Matthew Passion and the angelic earnestness of the interpretation by the male Alto Tim Mead and the Netherlands Bach Society. May you find comfort and healing in it and may it move you to shared compassion with those who suffer in these troubled times.

Leaning into Mercy, or: Resisting Resistance

The arias in Bach’s Passions are wells of deep emotion. Time stands still, while we follow a movement of heart to the depth of our soul. Bach’s aria “Have mercy, my God”, invites us almost to dance through our bitter weeping, to resist our resistance, and to open the heart to graceful mourning and the gentle desire for mercy.