You guys are all good singers, right?

Last Saturday, as part of my retreat at the Monastery, I gathered with 20-30 others in the parlor of the guest house to chant the mid-day prayers. As it relates to the Divine Office, the mid-day devotion was likely a combination of the hours of Terce, Sext, and None.

Fr. James came over from the cloister to join us. He broke the ice by starting off with "Now, you guys are all good singers, right?" and told a story of another retreat where a participant claimed to have a wonderful chanting voice and knew the liturgy inside and out. Turned out that they were absolutely awful and it took all his patience and that of the other retreatants to get through the Psalms without being less than charitable towards him.

Doing the Work of God (That is, praying the Divine office, or selected portions of it) has been a discipline I have tried to practice faithfully over the past several years. I have read the Psalms in the morning, at mid-day, and in the evening. And to be truthful, the practice had begun to become a bit dry to me. I missed days at a time, occasionally weeks at a time. I needed to see the true beauty of the practice as prayed by the monks in the Abbey Church in order to sharpen my appreciation for it and understanding of it.

I have discussed the Divine Office with a Methodist minister friend of mine who truly has an appreciation for the practice and a clear perception of its origin. Most Protestants, however, find the repetitive nature of the Office to be a very Catholic practice, and one that has little place in their lives. To that, I would offer one response: IT'S THE PSALMS! (for crying out loud!)
Last time I checked, the Psalms were included in both the Catholic and Protestant canons in largely the same fashion. For Sola Scriptura-ists, I would think that the devotion to reading the Psalmody would be an admirable and pleasing practice. Maybe I'm just naive. That said, I have met a few others who agree with me.

My personal devotion to the Divine Office has now taken on a new meaning. Having shared in the slow methodical pace of the monastic chant (barely accompanied by a humble organ), I have found new beauty and meaning in the words. Having to slowly annunciate each pair of lines, truly makes one actually read the words and breathe in their meaning. My previous approach to simply reading the lines bears no resemblance to this new approach to chanting the lines to myself in near silence. (Bear in mind that I normally chant Matins and Lauds while sitting at my desk at work with the door closed) I think perhaps that while reading travels directly from the lips to the mind, the act of singing, even singing silently, takes a turn through ones heart first. And that, my friends, makes all the difference.

+ Peace! +