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Musing on Lent and Easter music. 

crown of thorns with title lent and easter © Blackburn Cathedral

During the installation of Abp. Sarah Mullally, lines were sung from the words of Julian of Norwich. The composer Joanna Marsh had compiled these words in her anthem All Shall Be Well in 2021. Lyrics and music © Joanna Marsh

Without love we may not live 

And in this love our life is everlasting.                                            

Love was without beginning, is and shall be without ending. 

All shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well. 

Ah! Good Lord, how might it all be well? 

For wickedness hath been suffered to rise  
contrary to the Goodness. 

 I it am, the Might and the Goodness of the Fatherhood; 

 I it am, the Wisdom of the Motherhood; 

 I it am, the Light and the Grace that is all blessed Love. 

The Blackburn Chamber Choir sang a programme of music for Lent and Easter. Various pieces gave different views of God and his work with us.  

One prayed that God “will not hide his face from us or cast us off in displeasure.” It pleaded with God to forgive all our sins. Another, by the same composer (Richard Farrant d. 1580), asked God to remember his tender mercy and loving kindness, instead of “the sins and offenses of our youth.”  

A twentieth century piece, “Solus ad Victinam”, by Kenneth Leighton (d.1988) used words by Peter Abelard who died in 1142. It reflected on Christ giving himself as a sacrifice for our sin. It asked that we will suffer Christ’s pain for the 3 days. By doing so, we aim to win his mercy. This allows us to share his glory and “the laughter of his Easter day”.

These concepts seem alien today. The idea of pleading for forgiveness seems foreign. The sense that God is displeased with us and would punish us is also unfamiliar. The yearning to suffer with Christ is even more so.  

Our Bishop said that Jesus had sought us. He saved us. Then, He sat down after completing His task (Hebrews 1:3). God is all loving kindness. We do not need to plead for what he has already given. 

Another more popular piece from the Romantic era (Mendlesson d. 1847), asked God to listen because the godless and wicked oppress the writer. It then yearned for ‘the wings of a dove: far away would I rove… In the wilderness build me a nest to remain there for ever at rest’. It felt like sheer escapism, more the self-indulgence of the composer than the spiritual resourcing of the listeners.  

Do we come to Julian meetings or meditate at home, to have time ‘at rest’? Or do we meditate because, as another piece (Ubi Caritas Ola Gujielo b. 1978) reminded us, “where love is, there is God,” who binds us together in unity? in Christ we are one with each other and with God. We come to experience that, not merely assert it .  

Richard Rohr and others expand that unity. In Christ, we are one with people of any ethnic background. We are one with those who speak any language. We are united with people of any religion. We are at one with both the poor and the rich. We are at one with God. Despite our current wars, we are at one with Ukrainian and Russian, American, Israeli, Palestinian and Iranian.  The is no duality between God and people, and no ‘us’ and ‘them’ between people groups.

The broad range of Christian prayers use many pictures of God and his action on us. In silence, we allow God simply to be himself. We open ourselves to a new, simple vision. We discover the tranquility underlying the discords and upsets of the world. We also drop the chaos of our minds. This is not to ‘remain forever at rest,’ but to face with confidence whatever comes next. 

Text © Philip Tyers.  

Image © Blackburn Cathedral, used with permission

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