Dwelling on the mysterioso

I suppose that no one who is both a total Romantic and a perpetual student of the Middle Ages can resist feeling a bit drawn to the mysterious around All Hallows Eve. As I understand, back in the days of the old gods the time of Samhain was one where, with light and darkness equal in the day, the veil between this world and the next was thin if not lifted. Now, where is this going to take me today? :)

Coincidentally, as I ploughed through my first century liturgical studies this week (and the study of liturgy is not at its most exciting in relation to that century), I was studying the work Carmen Christi by R. P. Martin. This book deals with vocal praise / hymns in the early Christian century. In treating of the glorious hymn of Philippians chapter 2, Martin provided a wonderful and unusual side note regarding "every tongue proclaiming to the glory of God the Father that Jesus Christ is Lord." Referring to how the Greek Christians had previously lived in fear of the spirit forces:

"The astral deities prostrate themselves in admission that their régime is ended... The humiliated and obedient Christ is Lord of all spirit-powers. Life, therefore, is under His rule and derives its purpose from the meaning which his Incarnate existence gives... The character of God, whose will controls the universe.. is spelled out in terms of Jesus Christ... No arbitrary power, no capricious force, no pitiless, indifferent Fate."

It strikes me that today, when "New Age" is extremely popular, that it has a Gnostic flavour - special knowledge, the stars consulted to see when a move would be most to one's benefit, whatever. Actually, in the early Christian era and before, the idea of spirit powers and astrology was quite frightening - and the old gods, one must hasten to add, were not particularly attractive creatures.

Those Christian who are not ones for ritual often dislike any remnant of the early days, shall I say, but, during the Middle Ages, though the old gods had long faded away, there was a great recognition of how powerfully gestures, splendour, folk devotions, and the like can speak to our own incarnate selves. I'm sorry that rituals, such as the All Souls Day ones from my RC childhood, have too often died out. The Requiem can speak to a part of us which white vestments and Alleluias cannot - because, after all, we hope for our own resurrection, but only one resurrection has happened as yet! :) Grief, mystery (not knowing just how we'll rest eternally, or at least till the parousia), awareness of our own sinfulness even when we look at this through a lovely glass of Christ's transforming forgiveness - we need the Dies Irae and the Libera Me Domine as well as the In Paradisum. The "Libera Me" is no denial of Jesus' mercy - far from it! It speaks to a part of us which knows the forgiveness and mercy and yearns to cry out for it, not really in fear of God, but in a certain awe and need.

Now, what was that I was saying earlier about the veil between this world and the next being thin? (I am tempted to develop an idea that, with Christ risen and ascended to the Father, perhaps the veil has been torn in two, but I'll save that for another day.) Well, we are approaching All Hallows Eve, after all, and I think I'll include a quote, regarding heaven, from Papa Benedict.

"Heaven, therefore, must first and foremost be determined christologically. It is not an extra-historical place into which one goes. Heaven's existence depends upon the fact that Jesus Christ, as God, is man, and makes space for human existence in the existence of God himself...It is by being with Christ that we find the true location of our existence as human beings...Christ is the temple of the final age; he is heaven, the new Jerusalem, he is the cultic space for God...

If heaven depends on being in Christ, then it must involve a co-being with all those who, together, constitute the body of Christ. Heaven is a stranger to isolation. It is the open society of the communion of saints, and in this way the fulfilment of all human communion."

I naturally am now going to think about where I can find the most magnificent services for next week. I need the glory of All Saints Day, the sombre All Souls.

In case I do not write my blog on the days themselves, though indeed I may, here is a wonderful liturgical prayer which I offer in memory of my parents and deceased family and friends: "May the angels lead you into Paradise. May the martyrs come to welcome you, and take you to the Holy City - the new and eternal Jerusalem where Lazarus is poor no longer. May you have eternal rest." (Certainly beats Persephone, Pluto, and Hades, does it not?)