On the Morning of Nov 6

I woke up to a dark November morning blanketed in white snow. It is always mesmerizing to see the first snowfall of the season. Nov 6 is very early for snow to come, even here in the cold north. I have not heard the snow ploughs yet, so I think we may be prepared to walk to church this Sunday morning. I sing in the little church choir – often we are like an octet – but our masterful director has grand plans, and it has been his hope we could sing from Faure’s Requiem before he retires. And today we are singing Libera Me, Domine and Pie Jesu in Latin. It is All-saints Day in the liturgical year. The songs have been churning n my head in the wake moments of the night. Peculiar tunes they are, for I sing alto. And the text of Libera Me is rather somber. It is an existential cry to God to save me from the eternal death.

 

It is real. There is no happy-go-lucky sentiment that Jesus is our buddy and of-course-we-all-go–to-heaven, no matter what we say or do or believe. The text in Libera Me has a sense of fear and trembling, and there is an either-or.

I had a small devotional for the students at our school the other day. We are prescribed texts to dwell on, and I was given Matt. 7, 15-23, and after the warning against false teachers, we meet the words: “Not everyone who calls me Lord, Lord, will enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, but the ones who do the will of my Father.” And Jesus explains that on the day of reckoning many will come to him, in protest and say: Hey, you can’t do this to us. We were the real thing: we did miracles and stuff in your name!  Of course, they had this notion that all was well in their Christian life – and Jesus never knew them. Now, that is a wake-up call. It is a wake-up call for me in my settled, cozy Christian state of mind.

On a snowy November morning, as daylight breaks the darkness, I sing silently, Pie Jesu, Domine: dear Lord Jesus. And in the church, I may join the others and sing out loud.

He is Lord, and I am known by him like a shepherd knows his sheep.

Lord, have mercy! Give us rest, eternally.

Libera me

Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna,

in die illa tremenda, die illa:

quando caeli movendi sunt et terra:

dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem.

Tremens, tremens factum sum ego,

et timeo dum discussio venerit, atque ventura ira.

Dies illa, dies irae, calamitatis et miseriae.

dies illa, dies magna, et amara, amara valde.

Requiem aeternam dona eis,

Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Libera me, Domine de morte aeterna

in die illa tremenda, in die illa

Quando caeli movendi sunt et terra:

dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem

Libera me, Domine de morte aeterna,

Libera me, Domine!

Deliver me, O Lord, from eternal death,

On that dreadful day, on that day,

When the heavens and earth are moved,

When Thou shalt come to judge the world by fire.

I tremble; I am seized with trembling,

And I fear, when the desolation cometh, and also the coming wrath,

That day, day of wrath, of calamity and misery.

A day of great power, and it is bitter, very bitter.

Grant them eternal rest,

O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.

Deliver me, O Lord, from eternal death,

On that dreadful day, on that day,

When the heavens and the earth are moved

When Thou shalt come to judge the world through the fire,

Deliver me, O Lord, from eternal death,

Deliver me, O Lord!