Mary was young, unmarried and pregnant. And yet when Mary met her cousin Elizabeth she started to sing. We know her song as the Magnificat in the west and the Ode of the Theotokos in the east. Many focus on the radical nature of Mary’s song. In our current time of unpredictability, my thoughts turn to how Mary responded to a difficult situation with a song of praise. Can we respond like her?
For fifty years from St. Paul’s Powell River to Christ Church Cathedral I have assisted in worship services. Serving is a form of worship, but I don’t always hear the music. When I concentrate on the “to do’s” of a service, “what is happening next” or “when do I have to move?” I am not fully open to participating in the service and its song of praise.
A friend living in Los Angeles died in early February and our collective saying good bye was unfinished because of the pandemic. Funerals, said Archbishop Somerville, were for us to make a memory of the person who died. I wasn’t able to go to a funeral, like so many of us, and make a memory and say goodbye.
Then I made my own ritual. I listened and listened to Rupert Lang’s setting of the Kontakion1. The Kontakion is an ancient song for funerals. Listening to it allowed me to make a memory while helping me to let go. The final Alleluias of the Kontakion capture the mix of loss, grief, gratitude and praise that come together when we entrust our loved ones to the Creator’s care.
While it is not a perfect solution, I listen to the Kontakion to remember and release friends who have died over these past few months. I hold on to their memory and then let go in the “sure and certain hope” we will meet again. This is praise, my Advent sign of hope and promise.
