Music of faith can illuminate a way to love

One time my most devoutly reborn brother and I were talking about attending church. I said lightly, “I just go for the music.” He probed, “You go to services because you get to sing there?”

“No,” I replied, only then realizing the truth of it: “Singing is my favorite form of prayer.”

My seven siblings and I were raised lovingly Catholic. Of the three who continued with formal religion, I alone returned to the original flock.

Many observant Catholics of a certain age, especially women, may find it as difficult as I do to reconcile some of the off-putting ancient baggage of the institution with our longing to stay in our church home. Even Alice in Wonderland had to believe only six impossible things before breakfast! Despite the challenges to faith, however, after years of wandering, I have found my way home again.

Human institutions, like human beings, are flawed, but they may nonetheless offer rewarding and even inspiring connection. Choir keeps me going, in part because the songs offer a way to pray that insinuates itself into my day.

For example, lately I noticed myself humming this song between the parking garage and the office: “Here I am, Lord … I will go, Lord, if you lead me. I will hold your people in my heart.”

It must sound musically odd to passers-by, because I’m trying to learn the alto part, on the conscious level. But most of my waking hours are spent with at-risk youth in a public agency threatened with death-by-underfunding. If ever a person needed leading, it is I, Lord! And holding people in my heart is a perfectly acceptable way to relate to them, while dutifully separating church and state.

Another song playing in a loop during my commute has special appeal to this home-and-hearth-loving Taurus: “We are all hungry people, we need shelter and strength. We are one in our hurting; we are one in our pain. In our suff’ring and sadness, we are saved by the grace of the power and the Spirit that is here in this place.”

Those of us who operate for the public good with diminishing dollars know how great the needs are and how limited are the resources to meet them. We get discouraged; we feel inadequate. Nurturing each other so we can bring power and spirit to our special places is essential in times like these.

In the olden days, a lot of the singing in my parish was in Latin, magical in its way, but obscure. Now we sing of gathering the people and breaking bread together — images that remind us of the comfort of meals shared with friends, the sacraments that bring grace to everyday life. The purpose of redemption, for me, was to remind us that God is love.

The new church may still be darkened by the shadows of archaic structures, in my view, but the music of my faith now illuminates a way to abide in the love that is God, even in hard times.

Mary Leighton sings alto, often on key, in the choir at St. Jude Catholic Church in Eugene. This column is coordinated by Lane Interfaith Alliance to offer inspiration, share spiritual experiences and bring a deeper understanding of individual faith perspectives with the intention of blessing our community and world. For more information, visit www.laneinterfaithalliance.org or call 541-344-0430.