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This past weekend was abnormally full of religion for me- I went to a Beltane celebration held by a local neo-Pagan group on Saturday, and on Sunday, the local Reform Church had its Music Ministry Sunday. It's my former roommate's church, and because of her, I'm in the handbell choir- even though I think I technically still belong to the Catholic church on the other side of town.
I'm pretty staunchly an atheist these days, though- I'm not much a fan of Ye Olde Abrahamic Monotheism for any number of reasons, but the heterosexist duality of the God and Goddess that is so prevalent in neo-Pagan rituals just plain squicks me out. ("The wand is to the chalice as the God is to the Goddess" thing makes my skin crawl, particularly when I'm not expecting it.) That said, I do enjoy hanging out with Pagans and dancing around giant bonfires in the woods, even if I will never actually identify as Pagan.
I rarely stay for the whole service at the Reform Church, even when I'm playing bells, but I did this weekend. The services are nothing like the Catholic masses I grew up on- there's no Eucharist, and the pastor chooses the weekly readings, which are usually just a few verses from several books, and there's a Children's Sermon and there are anthems, and the words to the songs are all wrong- and it's all very strange and confusing for me. But they are lovely people, and they let me play in their bell choir even though I'm not a member of the church. The bells are currently my only musical outlet, and I've only been playing them for two years now, but I adore them utterly- both the bells, and my fellow ringers.
On Sunday, we played an arrangement of "Holy, Holy, Holy" called "Our Song Shall Rise to Thee" that is absolutely my favorite piece that we've played to date. (The music publisher's website has a very low quality recording of the piece here; we sounded better. >.>) There's this lovely, lilting, dreamlike introduction, some alternating eighth notes (during which I get to totally rock out on my D5 and E5 bells) under this driving chord progression, a bit of a ritard, a fermata, a pause- and then there's sort of a secondary introduction before the melody starts in among the upper bells. And then a bit before the midpoint, there's a bunch of falling eighth notes, and then a crescendo and then whoomph (that is entirely the wrong sound effect, but it definitely feels like a whoomph when you're standing in the middle of the bells), the rest of us in the center notes pick up the melody and carry it forward (onwards and upwards!), and it was at that point during the service on Sunday that I began to cry.
I've wept during performances in the past- but never tears of joy. I do not believe in any sort of higher power- I've come to terms with my lack of faith in that respect, even though it took quite a few years of struggle to do so. I sometimes catch myself wishing I could believe, but ultimately, I have no use for gods and goddesses and nebulous personfications of a Universal Spirit, or the idea of an afterlife, or having a higher purpose.
I don't believe in any of those things. But I do believe in the power of a well timed C major chord to move mountains, break hearts, and heal souls.
I'm pretty staunchly an atheist these days, though- I'm not much a fan of Ye Olde Abrahamic Monotheism for any number of reasons, but the heterosexist duality of the God and Goddess that is so prevalent in neo-Pagan rituals just plain squicks me out. ("The wand is to the chalice as the God is to the Goddess" thing makes my skin crawl, particularly when I'm not expecting it.) That said, I do enjoy hanging out with Pagans and dancing around giant bonfires in the woods, even if I will never actually identify as Pagan.
I rarely stay for the whole service at the Reform Church, even when I'm playing bells, but I did this weekend. The services are nothing like the Catholic masses I grew up on- there's no Eucharist, and the pastor chooses the weekly readings, which are usually just a few verses from several books, and there's a Children's Sermon and there are anthems, and the words to the songs are all wrong- and it's all very strange and confusing for me. But they are lovely people, and they let me play in their bell choir even though I'm not a member of the church. The bells are currently my only musical outlet, and I've only been playing them for two years now, but I adore them utterly- both the bells, and my fellow ringers.
On Sunday, we played an arrangement of "Holy, Holy, Holy" called "Our Song Shall Rise to Thee" that is absolutely my favorite piece that we've played to date. (The music publisher's website has a very low quality recording of the piece here; we sounded better. >.>) There's this lovely, lilting, dreamlike introduction, some alternating eighth notes (during which I get to totally rock out on my D5 and E5 bells) under this driving chord progression, a bit of a ritard, a fermata, a pause- and then there's sort of a secondary introduction before the melody starts in among the upper bells. And then a bit before the midpoint, there's a bunch of falling eighth notes, and then a crescendo and then whoomph (that is entirely the wrong sound effect, but it definitely feels like a whoomph when you're standing in the middle of the bells), the rest of us in the center notes pick up the melody and carry it forward (onwards and upwards!), and it was at that point during the service on Sunday that I began to cry.
I've wept during performances in the past- but never tears of joy. I do not believe in any sort of higher power- I've come to terms with my lack of faith in that respect, even though it took quite a few years of struggle to do so. I sometimes catch myself wishing I could believe, but ultimately, I have no use for gods and goddesses and nebulous personfications of a Universal Spirit, or the idea of an afterlife, or having a higher purpose.
I don't believe in any of those things. But I do believe in the power of a well timed C major chord to move mountains, break hearts, and heal souls.