22 Quotations on Music–from Plato to Taylor Swift
I believe one of the greatest gifts in my life has been music. I thank my father for handing down to me his great love for classical music. I thank my mother for playing the piano and singing with her lovely alto voice–especially in church. I thank both parents for paying for my piano lessons from second to eighth grade. And I thank all the music teachers and choir directors I’ve experienced throughout my long life. But I thank God most of all for the beauty, power, mystery, and magic of music and song. With that in mind, here are some of my favorite quotations about music from a wide variety of people.
1. Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything. Plato
2. After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music. Aldous Huxley
3. For me, singing a sad song often has a way of healing a situation. It gets the hurt out in the open, into the light, out of the darkness. Reba McEntire
4. Next to the Word of God, the noble act of music is the greatest treasure in the world. Martin Luther
5. Without music, life would be a mistake. Friedrich Nietzsche
6. Music is a great natural high and a great natural escape. Shania Twain
7. Music produces a kind of pleasure which human nature cannot do without. Confucious
8. Music is very spiritual; it has the power to bring people together. Edgar Winter
9. The best music is essentially there to provide you something to face the world with. Bruce Springsteen
10. The aim and final end of all music should be none other than the glory of God and the refreshment of the soul. Johann Sebastian Bach
11. People have not always been there for me, but music has. Taylor Swift
12. Music is the fourth great material want; first food, then clothes, then shelter, then music. Christian Nestell Bovee
13. Music is the soundtrack of your life. various sources
14. Music can change the world, because it can change people. Bono
15. Every song is like a painting. Dick Dale
16. Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to the loneliness. Maya Angelou
17. Music expresses what cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent. Victor Hugo
18. All my songs are based on melody, which is retrieved from my Jewish heritage. Neil Diamond
19. The world’s most famous and popular language is music. PSY, South Korean singer
20. Let this be my epitaph: “The only proof I needed for the existence of God was music.” Kurt Vonnegut
21. Music is forever: music should grow and mature with you, following you right on up until you die. Paul Simon
22. The Lord is my strength and my song. Ps. 118:14
Reflection questions:
Did any quote really stand out for you? Do you know why?
If music is the soundtrack of your life, name three pieces of music (any genre) that are a part of the soundtrack of YOUR life. To encourage you to do this, I’ll go first: “Finlandia” by Sibelius (inherited from my dad), “Moon River” by Henri Mancini and sung by Andy Williams (it helped give me the courage to enter the convent), and “Amazing Grace” by John Newton (words) and William Walker (music).
Have you ever felt the healing power of a particular piece of music or song? I invite you to share that music below.
Have you requested a certain piece of music for your funeral? If so, which and why?
Note: I am posting these two music videos in honor of our immensely talented music directors here at our SND Center in Chardon: Sister Karita Ivancic, our amazing choir director, and Sister Susan Clark, our stellar accompanist.
There are so many pieces of remarkable music out there, I had a hard time deciding on one. After searching on YouTube for quite a while, I finally chose Schubert’s “Ave Maria,” which some say is the most beautiful piece of music ever written. I’m offering two versions. The first is by the Celtic Women, an Irish musical ensemble formed in 2004. The Second is by Kings Return a Dallas based a cappella quartet, formed in 2016, who sing in rich harmonies and blend gospel, jazz, R&B, and classical. Both versions are in Latin. The lyrics are the “Hail Mary”: Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” Choose one or (better yet) listen to both versions of this beautiful song.
Video #1: Celtic Women
Video #2: The a cappella group Kings Return, recording this version in a stairwell.
I welcome you to share your thoughts below–on the quotes, reflective questions, videos, pictures, or your own experience with music. We all enjoy reading your comments! PS: We one man heard Kings Return’s version of “Ave Maria” he wrote: “If this is not played at my funeral, I am not going to die!”
A Few Thoughts from My Annual Retreat
I made my annual retreat a few weeks ago during the first week of Advent. I told you I would share a little of my retreat experience with you. So, here are a few thoughts accompanied by some pictures I took of my indoor and outdoor surroundings.
The setting. I made my retreat at “Marydale,” one of the small houses on our Notre Dame property. I was alone the whole time. I texted a friend every morning and evening so someone would know I was still alive! I brought enough food to last a week. A Jesuit friend of mine in Detroit, Fr. Gary, directed my retreat via zoom. I’ve known Gary since 1993 when I began ministering in the Jesuit novitiate with him in Detroit.
The schedule. I was up about 5:00 every morning (what can I say? I’m a morning person even on retreat…) I was in bed about 10:00, usually very tired. Praying can wear you out! The day was filled mostly with times for prayer. For breaks, I journaled, worked crossword puzzles and sudokus, exercised, and listened to my classical music station. During my meetings with Gary, I shared the “fruits” of my prayer as well as my struggles. He’s an excellent listener and reflected back to me what he was hearing me say. We had some good sharing. Then together we would decide how I might proceed.
Names of God. Perhaps the theme of my retreat was “My name for God.” I didn’t come up with a specific name for God–like Tom, Dick, or Harriet. My names were images or metaphors of God. I ended up with about seven images. I’ll say a word about three of them.
God as my playmate. You might think this first image is irreverant. But it’s based in scripture where Jesus says we must become as little children to enter the heavenly kingdom. I recalled that some theologian somewhere said we may not all be six-year-olds in heaven, but we must have the spirit of a six-year-old! I also remembered God’s words to St. Teresa of Avila: “Enjoy me!” I wondered, how might I enjoy God more–especially in my prayer?
God as my shepherd or farmer. I didn’t have to invent all my metaphors of God; the bible is filled with them. So I chose the image of shepherd because I love Ps. 23 so much. But I really don’t have much first-hand experience with shepherds or sheep (although I did spend a morning of prayer once inside a friend’s sheep barn with her ewes and new lambs!) But my father, a tool and dye maker by trade, made farming his hobby when he and Mom bought our small 22-acre farm. And I had a lifetime of personal experience with my dad as farmer. So I drew upon those experiences to connect with God as MY farmer in prayer.
God as my ice-dancing partner. I started ice-skating when I was about 4 years old. I hung up my skates in my late 50’s. That was a hard letting go for me. I have always been interested in figure skating–especially my favorite kind: ice-dancing! In my prayer, I began with the image of God as my wrestling partner–based on Jacob’s experience of wrestling with an angel–or, as some suggest, with God himself. I still like that image because I think some of my prayer times are wrestling matches with God. But I wanted a prettier image–like dancing with God. And I concluded: there’s no dancing more beautiful than ice-dancing! In ice-dancing, the two skaters must know each other intimately… they must trust each other implicitly… and they must work so closely together they almost become one as they produce their magificent dance. There was much to ponder using this image of my relationship with God.
When I looked back over my seven images or metaphors for God, I noticed that all were relational–and between two living beings. I didn’t say, for example, God is my rock or my shield or my heavy winter coat with deep pockets and a hoodie. No, all my metaphors were alive and dynamic–just as I wanted my relationship with God to be.
I’d like to say a few words about the picture below:
Gary and I conversed about many other things as well. Even though I believe God’s providence has put me in this particular time in history, I sometimes get depressed and angry with things and situations I see as wrong, unjust, and hateful that cause unbelievable pain and suffering for so many people. Gary reminded me of what St. Ignatius said: God is laboring in our world, in our times. Do I really believe this? If so, then my prayer becomes less about begging God to fix all the wrongs in our world and more about asking God how I might join with God in directing the course of the world toward ever greater unselfish loving. Starting with myself.
Reflection questions:
Did anything touch you in this reflection? If so, what?
Do you have any favorite “names” for God, that is, images or metaphors for God? Would you like to share one or two with us below?
If you have made a retreat or a day of recollection, what do you remember most from that experience? Would you like to share it below?
How do you pray?
Wishing you all a very Happy New Year,
one filled with love, peace, goodness, joy,
courage, prayerfulness and hope!
I often use music during my prayer–especially during retreat. Although I use many specifically religious songs, I also like to use so-called “secular” songs too–especially good old-fashioned love songs. Here’s one of my favorites, “You Needed Me” sung by Canadian Anne Murray. I use it to remind me that, in a real sense, God does need me. And God’s action in my life is very similar to the actions described in this song: “You held me up… you gave me dignity… I sold my soul, you brought it back for me… You gave me hope… you even called me friend.”
I invite you to share a comment below–about the reflection, the pictures, the questions, the song… My readers and I really enjoy reading the comments each week!
The School-Crossing Guard at Christmas
(This reflection is an adaptation of a blog I posted on Dec. 22, 2014. For most of you, it will be new.)
Every Christmas I recall a certain school-crossing guard I saw many years ago when I was ministering at the Jesuit novitiate in Detroit, Michigan. I never met her personally, but I saw her almost everyday as she ushered the children safely across the street at the Catholic elemtenary school near the novitiate. I remember in particular an incident that occurred about two weeks before Christmas.
It was 2:30 in the afternoon, shortly before dismissal time. And it was pouring rain. As I sat in my car waiting for the light to change, I spotted the crossing guard. She was wearing big black boots, jeans, a bright orange vest, and a yellow rain hat. In her right hand she was holding a big red STOP sign. But here’s the fun part. She was not standing on the corner in her usual spot. She was standing inside the life-size Christmas creche in front of the church! Yes, there she was, standing next to Joseph, who didn’t seem to mind at all that she was beside him. Apparently, while waiting for the dismissal bell to ring, the woman had used her common sense and had taken shelter from the rain inside the manger.
Seeing her there, I laughed out loud. What a source of inspiration she became for me! First, her big red STOP sign struck me. It was as if she was reminding all passersby (like me!) to STOP your racing around for a minute, STOP your complaining about the weather, STOP your moaning about all the work you have to do, STOP your worrying. And REMEMBER the real reason for this season: the birth of this little baby boy!
In addition, the school guard, by her position in that nativity scene, was demonstrating what many spiritual writers (such as St. Ignatius) encouraged us to do: to put ourselves into the scripture stories, that is, to immerse ourselves in the ambience and action. As you reflect on the Christmas story, for example, put yourself into the manger scene. What do you see or hear? How do you feel being there? What questions do you have? Or try to become Mary, Joseph, or one of the shepherds. Imagine what they would be feeling and thinking. What would they be saying? what would they be hoping and praying for?
And finally, the guard looked at ease next to Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and their sheep. How at ease are we with the great stories of our Christian faith? How well do we know them? But the school guard would not remain in that shelter for very long. In a few minutes the dismissal bell would ring, the children would come pouring out of school, and she would begin her important work, her ministry, if you will: helping those children to cross the busy streets in the pouring rain and in safety. (Talk about a pro-life job!)
At Christmas, God calls us to the manger to adore and reflect on the profound mystery of Jesus’ birth. But we cannot stay at that manger, for Christmas is only the beginning of the story of Jesus. This child will grow up and eventually be revealed as the Son of God who will radically alter human history by his teachings and his life of profound selfless loving. And we who call ourselves his followers are daily called to follow his Way especially by our own acts of selfless loving–that is, by helping others, through sun, rain, and snow, to negotiate the busy streets and intersections of their daily lives.
Wishing you all of very Blessed Christmas,
filled with God’s peace, love, joy, gratitude and hope!
Reflective questions:
What might the STOP sign at Christmas be telling you to remember this Christmas?
Who or what stands out for you the most in the story of the first Christmas? Why?
What do you like most about Christmas–OR what is your favorite Christmas tradition? I hope you might share a few of your thoughts with us below!
I’m offering two videos for you today. The first is a simple, gentle rendition of “The First Noel” sung by Rosemary Siemens. The last verse reminds us of why Jesus was born. If you need a little laughter today, the second video is for you. I’ve posted it before. It is a group of little children putting on their Christmas play. But one of the little girls, who is a sheep, decides she wants to hold baby Jesus.
Video #1: “The First Noel”
Video #2: Children’s Christmas play:
I invite you to share a thought or two below!
Our Desperate Need for Awe
We live in an age marked by uncertainty, anxiety, violence, political divisiveness, loneliness, and fears of all kinds. We are not the first age to experience such things. During such times it is easy for us to slip into numbness or even despair. That’s why it is more important than ever to cultivate experiences of awe in our lives.
What is awe? Awe is the feeling we get in the presence of something vast that is beyond our understanding: a night sky filled with stars, towering trees in a forest, mighty waves crashing along a rocky ocean shore. We can have an experience of awe with small things too: gazing at the tiny fingernails of a newborn, pondering a line from a poem that moves our heart, catching the scent of Christmas cookies baking, or spotting a lone hawk soaring high above us. Recent research has demonstrated the powerful positive effects awe can have on us.
1. Awe can soothe our central nervous system. It can actually lower blood pressure, ease anxiety, and bestow calm upon us.
2. Awe can expand our sense of connection with others. It gives us the sense that we are part of something much bigger than ourselves. It underscores our bond with other human beings and, indeed, with the rest of existence. Surely the experience of the total eclipse on April 8, 2024 did this for millions of people–including myself! One study even showed that people who experienced awe were more likely to be generous and to volunteer their time for others (Zhang, 2014).
3. Awe promotes openness, creativity, understanding. It reconnects us with the mystery, power, and richness of life.
4. Awe makes us feel small in a good way. It humbles us while simultaneously widening our perspective.
It seems to me that cultivating experiences of awe in our everyday life would be a very good Advent practice. But how can we do this? The Spiritual Naturalist Society website lists several ways. Here are three.
1. By the mindful observation of nature. Leigh Anderson writes, “One of the most reliable doorways into awe is simply stepping outside with the intent to notice.” This might be challenging if we live in a place of cold, ice, and snow during Advent. But we can still cultivate awe by taking a walk, standing in our backyard or on our porch, or gazing out a window at the gently falling snow or a howling blizzard. Or we can watch a PBS documentary on redwood trees, lions and tigers, our national parks, stars, and even pigeons! (Yes, pigeons! I recently watched such a program and came away in awe over these birds we sometimes see only as “dirty pests.”) Choose an experience that invtes you into a rhythm that’s “slower, older, and more generous” than the one you are usually inhabit.
2. By slowing down and making space for stillness. On my list of books to read is John Mark Comer’s book with the fascinating title: The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, a New York Times bestseller. I know I am guilty of getting caught up with the hurry and rush of contemporary life. Did you know that in 1974 cardiologists coined the phrase “hurry sickness”? They defined this sickness as the chronic state of stress caused by feeling rushed and overwhelmed even without a clear reason. Common “symptoms” of this “illness” include impatience, irritability, emotional numbness, and addiction to work. One antedote to hurry sickness is deliberately slowing down on a regular basis.
3. By seeing the ordinary as extraordinary. We experience the ordinary so often, we can take it for granted, or, worse yet, we can fail to really see and experience it. Zen teachers encourage their students to approach their surroundings with a “beginner’s mind,” that is, to experience their surroundings as if for the first time. Another way we can experience the ordinary as extraordinary is to see the ordinary through the eyes of a small child. Little kids can get excited over catching snowflakes on their tongue, seeing a Nativity set beneath a Christmas tree, spotting a red cardinal at a bird feeder, and, in summer, beholding their first dragonfly. They remind us of the extraordinary in the ordinary, the miraculous in the everyday.
Jesus made time for awe. Jesus valued awe experiences in his life. He regularly went up into the mountains to pray. Perhaps he felt closer to God up there, or he simply enjoyed getting a wider perspective on the valley below–much as we do when we pull off the parkway every time we see a “scenic overlook” sign. Jesus noticed the everyday miracles of bread rising, wine fermenting, weather patterns forming, and mother hens sheltering their young beneath their wings.
He was amazed when he witnessed moral goodness in people: that Roman centurian with his extraordinary tenderness toward his servant, and the destitute widow generously depositing two small coins into the temple treasury. He gave us examples of moral goodness in his stories–especially the Good Samaritan and the forgiving father in the Prodigal Son. And he counseled us to do likewise. Jesus called his followers’ attention to the birds of the air and lilies of the field. He even made time to play with children, to watch shepherds caring for their sheep on the hillside, to notice camels squeezing through narrow gates, and to engage in conversation with a wide variety of individuals–including women.
Awe experiences aren’t just “nice” experiences to have because they can make us feel good. Awe experiences can actually help to make us good, to make us better! They are, in some ways, essential for our well-being as individuals, as a human community, and as a whole earth community. And finally, it is precisely through awe that we can gain access to the Creator-and-Sustainer-of-All-That-Is, our Beloved and Awe-Inspiring God!
Reflection questions:
Did any words or ideas in this reflection stand out for you? Do you know why?
Reflect on a few key experiences of awe that you have had. What effects did they have on you? Would you like to share one of those experiences with us below?
Have you experienced the “moral goodness” in an individual or a group of individuals that made you want to be a better person?
What actions do you take to avoid catching the “hurry sickness”?
PS: below is a moment of “sunset awe” I savored from my porch/balcony the other day…
Our video today is called “Winter Wonder.” In 3 min. and 17 secs. it captures some of the awe-inspiring beauty of winter accompanied by gentle music. Videos such as these are produced by “Nature Relaxation.” I hope you enjoy it.
I welcome you to share a comment below–about the reflection, photographs, reflective questions, or video:
Lessons I Learned from My Old Bank Book
I was going through one of my bulging files labeled “Blog Ideas” to get an idea for this reflection. In it, I found an old bank book of mine, the one I used from first to fifth grade at James A. Garfield School. That school, which included grades 1 through 6, was a fun place to learn. We did some nifty things there. For example, we banked our real money regularly at school. We all got bank books with our names typed on the front. On banking day, we brought our books and dimes and quarters, filled out our deposit slips, went down to the cafeteria, and stood in line waiting for the next teller–just like a real bank. In fact, it was a real bank: The Cleveland Trust Company with a branch in Willoughby, Ohio–only it was in our school. The older students were the tellers. They sat at the cafeteria tables looking very official. They recorded our deposit and took our money. The teachers were walking around in case there was any problem.
My bank book was labeled “School Savings Passbook.” Certain regulations were listed on the back: “When making deposits or withdrawals always present this book… If this book is lost, notify your teacher at once… Accounts may be opened with twenty-five cents or more.” I opened my account Feb. 2, 1951. I was in first grade and I deposited a quarter. Now as I studied the little gray book further, I noticed some curious things:
I usually deposited a quarter. I received my first interest in January 1952. I got $.01! This raised my total to $3.31. I checked: a penny in 1952 is worth 12 cents today! I made a $1 deposit in third grade. That was big money back then. In fifth grade I made other “big” deposits of $2, $3, and even $5. That was probably babysitting money. At 50 cents an hour, I was making big bucks. Throughout those five years at Garfield, I never withdrew any money. Said the bank book: “Withdrawals are made at the bank–never in school.” But on June 29, 1956, I withdrew all my money: $55.20. Today that would be worth $659.15! I closed my account because I was leaving dear old Garfield. Our parish, St. Felicitas, opened their school that year, and my parents made me go to that Catholic School–a difficult move for me because I was leaving all my friends. In my fifth grade, only 2 boys (Frank and Buddy) were Catholic and they switched to St. Felicitas too. But none of my girlfriends were Catholic. In time, however, I made new friends at St. Felicitas, and I even kept in touch with one of my girlfriends from Garfield until she passed away a few years ago.
Further thoughts:
By banking at school, we were being taught some important lessons in life. One main lesson was “delayed gratification.” Why do we put money aside? Because we are saving up to get something we need or want. Most children, psychologists say, learn this lesson by the time they are six: “Eat your peas and you can have a piece of apple pie.” Make the sacrifice now, and you’ll be rewarded in the future.” I wonder, how do parents and teachers teach this important lesson to their children today?
Secondly, we were learning responsibility in a host of different ways: Remember, tomorrow is banking day… don’t lose your bank book… making even a small deposit is good (my smallest was $.15)… fill out your deposit slip properly….wait your turn in line.
Third, we were learning about time. It takes time to earn money and to save it… it takes time to plan for the future… it takes time to put money in the bank… over time the value of money changes.
For reflection:
Did anything stand out for you in this reflection?
Did you have banking at school? Or, how did you learn to save money as a child?
How did you learn the lesson of delayed gratification? How have you taught that lesson to your children or grandchildren?
What “nifty” things do you remember from your early years in school?
PS: Thanks again for your prayers during my retreat. I’ll share more about my retreat in a future post!
Several weeks ago, our U. S. Mint produced the last penny. Yes, starting now, we in the U.S. won’t have any new pennies although the billions in circulation will still be around for a while. (I personally will miss seeing Abe Lincoln on the penny. We need his image more than ever these days. I’m grateul he’s still on our $5 bills!) In honor of the “noble penny,” I chose for our song today, “Pennies from Heaven.” Released in 1936, this song was written by Arthur Johnson and Johnny Burke. It was a cheerful little song for people struggling through the Great Depression. In essence it was saying, “There is goodness even in the darkness and storms we’re going through.” I hope you enjoy this song and even sing along with this easy jazzy version by Paul Anka and Michael Buble.
I welcome your comments below. I always enjoy your insights!
