3 May, Feast of Philip & James
I am currently “In the Heart of the Desert.” (If you don’t catch the reference, that’s the magical first album I did in collaboration with John Pennington back in 1998-1999, the one that got us started on the new musical trajectory together.) I’m at Picture Rocks, just outside of Tucson, at the Redemptorist Renewal Center, for the second time helping with the what-has-become-annual OCP Songwriters’ retreat, organized by my long-time dear friend and brother Tom Booth. His idea at the origin of this was just what it says, to get some of the newer songwriters in OCP’s catalogue together and do both some spiritual formation as well as “workshop” some songs in collaboration with other artists. I’ll write more about that below.
I drove here from the Bay Area Monday and Tuesday, over 1000 miles, staying the night partway in beautiful downtown Blythe, CA. When I was at the Hermitage for the Triduum and Easter, as per the deal I worked out with the brothers (that if I came home for Holy Week they would loan me a car for a month; John Pennington teased me this morning about how “transactional” I was…), I was supposed to leave the community’s 2011 Prius in Monterey for someone to fetch later. But when we were working out the details for that fetching, it was suggested that I just keep the car for another month. I warned them that I needed to drive some good distances with it (first here to AZ and then all the way up to Seattle and back down to California), but they seemed to think the car could handle those miles and they don’t really need it with the roads closed. I was all set to rent a car for the trip, but finally agreed to the plan which will save a lot of money.
And so, the Mighty Prius and I made our way across the desert, stopping briefly for a little deviation to visit with Paul Ford and Janice Daurio in Camarillo. Being that close (right off the 101) it seemed a shame not to take advantage of the opportunity. That stop actually wound up adding several hours to the trip since I got caught in heavy traffic around Riverside, but no problem. I made it to Blythe by 8 PM, got a surprisingly good Chinese takeout meal and a good night’s sleep, and I made it to Tucson by lunch time Tuesday. All of which included driving into the glorious sunrise over the desert.
It's been a bit of a shock to my system to be here. I spent the last month in a solitary retreat at the Jesuit Retreat House in Los Altos. There is an apartment up at the top of the beautiful property in which I had made an eight-day retreat two years ago, and at that time had decided that when I made my post-priorship sabbatical I would like to spend an extended time there, and the Jesuits were very accommodating. It’s only a living room and a bedroom with a shared kitchen. I moved in the day after Easter and, as was the plan all along, I set up three microphones and my rudimentary recording equipment in half of the bedroom, with the plan to record my guitar and vocal tracks for at least two upcoming recording projects. Most days I got up at normal monk hours, did my meditation, went to the nearby gym (hence the luxury of having the car) where I got a workout, usually a sauna or jacuzzi, and some yoga in the studio, back home for breakfast care of the retreat center and morning prayer––and then got behind the microphones for two to three hours. Lunch break, nap and prayer, and then back to the microphones (or post-production stuff) for a few hours before evening prayer and a light dinner on my own.
It was a marvelous experience, the first time I have ever combined that kind of intentional spiritual practice with recording. I took the weekends off, did a very minimum of socializing with friends who knew I was in the area, had a nice Sunday run every week at a nearby reservoir and one nice hike with a friend. Other than that, I was all on my own for three out of the four weeks. The last week I had errands and appointments and had a couple more visits, and I had delightful dinner with the Jesuit community one night.
I had been planning on going to Italy to begin the Europe leg of the year in August, doing a good long retreat time at the Sacro Eremo before launching into my engagements in the fall. But it all went so well, and I was so relaxed and content, that I asked the Jesuits if I could reserve another month in the apartment. So, after the late spring/early summer travels and “work” I will be back there in late July. I am very happy about that. (I am intentionally putting the word “work” in scare quotes, remembering something I heard once: “If you love what you are doing you will never work a day in your life.” And so far this year, I simply love everything I am doing.)
The OCP Songwriters’ retreat… This is the third one. I came for the second one in January 2023 and offered two talks, presided at Eucharist and did a musical performance for the group. I am not coming as one of the participating songwriters, but I am honored that Tom asked me to not only do some teaching/formation last year, but also that he wanted them to hear my music. It is not a place for showcasing any particular artist. I remember last year, I did the first talk on integral spirituality in the morning, and then presided at a Mass sort of in the ashram style. We sat throughout in a beautiful wood floored room that used to be a zendo, some of us on the floor, and I prepared all music that I could lead even while presiding––“essentially vocal music,” as we Psallite people like to call it, some bhajans and acclamations from India, a few Psallite pieces and of course all the presider’s chants and dialogues. In this musical culture, heavily influenced by Praise & Worship music, the notion of chanting seems to have been somewhat neglected. Then I did the second presentation. If in the morning those gathered looked like they had been through a wind tunnel, by the afternoon they were very engaged, and we had some great discussions. And then to be asked to present my music was a real honor. This year there were several of the younger generation who are familiar with my music as far back at my first album, “Lord of Field and Vine” (1983), including the music if my band LUKE St. (Someone was singing “Prometheus” and “Maybe When I’m an Old Man” from that era today at lunch.) But last year I was an unknown quantity. And I have to say it went very, very well. And certainly very different from anything any of them are doing. I didn’t do much liturgical music, mostly the sacred world music. I thought they had had enough, but Tom brought me back by popular demand, this time in addition to two formation talks and presiding once again at the Eucharist (in very much the same style), serving as an unofficial spiritual director for the group.
The best part of the week, to be honest, is that this year some of my best an oldest music friends––and just plain best friends––were here, besides Tom, Pedro Rubalcava, John Pennington and Rick Modlin. Jaime Cortez, my guitar guru, even came down from Mesa for 24 hours. It was such a consolation to be sitting with these guys, all of us about the same age (I am the oldest by a month, Rick the youngest by 8 years), laughing and swapping stories with such instant ease and rapport. Oh my goodness. The talks went very well, as did the Eucharist again, and the several appointments I had with individuals were moving and profound. I am yet again moved by two things. One, just how much pain, how many wounds, people are carrying––we never know! All the more reason to err on the side of gentleness and kindness. And two: how courageous and resilient people are. My own petty problems pale in comparison with some of the issues that were shared.
We (John, Rick and I) did perform one piece of music. There was a song-sharing (no one wanted to call it a “concert”) last night, open to other guests. Tom asked me to do something with John to open the evening, and of course we wanted to include Rick, so we did a pretty nice, though unrehearsed, version of “This Is Who You Are (Litany of the Person).” I really wanted to showcase Rick and John’s talents and they can really stretch on that piece. I guess I also wanted the participants to see the sonic possibilities as well as extraordinary musical talent of those two brought to the service of sacred music. When we break into the, as John likes to call it, rhythmic modulation––going from 3/4 to 12/6 without every losing the downbeat; and then when Rick starts improvising at the end (not to mention me scatting over the top of the B section––I admit this time, as in the past, even I got goosebumps.
I realize that I have a very unique spiritual path––the combination of Camaldolese monastic and interreligious––but I felt acutely this time as if I am from a different world in almost every way from most of these musicians. There are some extraordinary musicians in the group, for sure. The skills of Sara hart and Thomas Muglia particularly stuck out for me. Though there were obviously some identifiable individual traits to the songs that were presented, there was a commonality to the sound musically, a certain style of singing that was shared by several (often with just a hint of a southern accent even if they were not from the south and a way of biting off the end of the last word in a line), and a common lexicon to their texts as well. I was talking to my friends about this too, and they concurred. The best I can make out is it’s heavily influenced by the Praise & Worship music that comes out of Nashville. The word “worship” came up a lot, a word that obviously applies to liturgy, but I would hazard to say is not the central motif of liturgy (as a matter of fact one of my regular formation lectures on liturgy is entitled “From Ritual to Worship to Liturgy). And also “adoration” came up a lot, music that could be sung at Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. I wonder if Catholic musicians of this generation have moved back to devotional spirituality and somewhat away from liturgical spirituality, and why.
This group of musicians has become a real loving community of friends after three gatherings, and they are very sincere, talented, and devout people. I don’t know if I will ever be with them again, but I was glad to offer what I could, hear their songs and stories, and share mine.
Pedro is staying on through the weekend, lodging over at Booth’s house, because the International Mariachi Festival is taking place this weekend in Tucson. The two of them went with Tom’s lovely wife Tammy to that tonight and I will join them tomorrow for some of that. Tom and I are also going to look at some of the tracks I recorded last month for fine tuning, and then we will all celebrate Eucharist together Sunday before I head up to Phoenix to spend some days with my family. The Redemptorists were kind enough to let me stay here at the retreat house through the weekend. The building I am in is the same one that houses the zendo/meditation hall, but removed from the other hubbub of activity, though there is a meditation group here this weekend too.
Tonight I had dinner with my friends Tessa Bielecki and Dave Denny, formally of the Sedona and Crestone Carmelites, both of whom are writers, now living just a few miles from here. We of course had a marvelous conversation about lo these many things. We know so many people in common and were dreaming of us all being together someday, along with Adam Bucko and Francis and Michaela of Skyfarm, this side of heaven. For now, so grateful for all the love and inspiration in my life, to be surrounded by such a great cloud of spiritual pilgrims, young energy, dedication, devotion and enthusiasm, and wise fellow travelers.
Some things I’ve been thinking about…
First, the two talks I gave were based on two essays I’ve been working on, the first “A Body You Have Prepared For Me,” all about Mary, the annunciation and the visitation, and how central the flesh is to the whole Christian story. The second is entitled “Empty Words, Pious Claptrap, and Undigested Glop.” I don’t really have the explain what that one is about perhaps (empty words, pious claptrap, and undigested glop), but the subtitle of it is “On Authority and Love.” As I was rehearsing it, I kept wanting to slip a remark in about “Christian values,” which has become a kind of buzzword (if not an out and out dog whistle) in the political realm. I hesitated from adding it in specifically for that reason––knowing that there would be a wide range of ideologies at this gathering and not wanting to provoke a political debate. But it had left me wondering what exactly those Christian values were. Listening to the political discourse and how this term gets bandied about, you’d think it mainly meant protection of the traditional nuclear family and fighting against all the concomitant issues around sexuality––abortion, gay marriage, transgender rights, etc. (Honestly at times it seems like “the right to bear arms” gets thrown in there too as a Christian value.)
Sure enough, the phrase got brought up several times in discussions, almost as if I had put it in the air myself by thinking about it so much. One time it came up directly in regards the upcoming election and who to vote for. I went to bed that evening really wrestling with it, wanting to articulate my own belief, and what I came up with for Christian values was the seven corporal works of mercy, based on Matthew 25: feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, give shelter to travelers, visit the sick, visit the imprisoned and bury the dead. And one more thing: radical inclusivity. But then, I will admit, I did an internet search to see what is now commonly considered to be the list of Christian values, and I was shocked by what came up. I recommend you do it. The first list was love, humility, kindness, peace respect, generosity, and forgiveness. Other listings were simply the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-26): love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Others of course mention belief in God along with living a moral life and practicing what you preach. But the answer I was looking for, and this was actually the point I was making in my talk and essay, came from a place called the Oak CE Learning Foundation: “Love is a core Christian value for our schools, because in the Bible we learn that God is Love and that God showed how much he loves us and how to love others.” Is this what people mean when they use that phrase? I suggest we challenge them on it, to make sure it's not just pious claptrap. I’d love to hear someone read Galatians 5:22-26 from the floor of the House or Senate. “My esteemed colleagues, I want to ensure that this bill is rooted in the Christian values that our country was founded on: love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. With that I yield my time to the gentlewoman from Georgia.”
I was also thinking about how we Christians and the Christian tradition in general sometimes cherry-picks phrases out of the Jewish Scriptures that seem consoling and poetic, sometimes totally out of their original context. One such is “Be still and know that I am God” from Psalm 46, a phrase that is used often as a spur for meditation, but which in context is in the midst of some very war-like imagery.
Come and see what the Lord has done,
the desolations he has brought on the earth.
He makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
Another one is Your almighty Word leapt down from heaven from your royal throne, which is used as an entrance antiphon during the Christmas season. It’s already on shaky ground if you take the mythic language literally (i.e. “leaping down from heaven”), but in its context (Wis 18:15-17) it does not really convey the reign of the servant king who blessed the peacemakers:
… your all-powerful word leaped from heaven, from the royal throne…
a stern warrior carrying the sharp sword of your authentic command,
and stood and filled all things with death,
and touched heaven while standing on the earth.
Then at once apparitions in dreadful dreams greatly troubled them,
and unexpected fears assailed them.
Merry Christmas!
The same applies to the favored phrase about the desert from Hosea 2:14, a phrase that I of course love (there’s a song on the new Animas album based on this line) and that is the motto of this desert house of prayer. The NRSV renders it I will now persuade her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. I went back to the rest of Chapter 2 of Hosea for the first time in a while and was shocked all over again to see how strong the language is in reference to Israel, as it is throughout the Book of Hosea. At the beginning of that same chapter God says through Hosea that she should
… put away her whoring from her face,
and her adultery from between her breasts,
or I will strip her naked
and expose her as in the day she was born,
and make her like a wilderness,
and turn her into a parched land,
and kill her with thirst.
There is a two-edged sword there, like the monastic cell or solitude itself: it’s a bridal chamber where God speaks tenderly to the soul, but first it’s a desert, a wilderness, a place of purification.
With all that, still, good night from Picture Rocks, where at least tonight God is speaking tenderly to my heart.
