Vittoria Aleotti: Io v’amo vita mia

    The claim that Christianity has historically been used as weapon against women, a tool to keep them down, is a falsehood, a smear against the Church.  The charge misses the point, first of all, because Christ didn’t come to offer anyone advancement in this world, but to draw all of us, women and men alike, deeper into the life of the Trinitarian God.  But even on its own terms the accusation is false.  Nowhere else anywhere in human history (up until the last couple centuries) could a woman who was not heir to a throne aspire, solely on her own merits, to the sort of influence wielded by a St. Catherine of Siena or a St. Theresa of Avila. The greatest Catholic Saint of all, the Blessed Mother, is a woman.

While it is true that such women were not the norm, they were more common than one might think.  The Venerable Bede almost offhandedly relates that the Northumbrian monastery in which the famous 7th century singer Cædmon lived was part of a dual male/female establishment; both convents, housing men and women alike, were presided over by a woman, St. Hilda. The arrangement seems to have been fairly unremarkable.

     Given all that, it should come as no surprise that the creator of the beautiful piece below, composed in an age when music was a mostly male domain, was a consecrated nun.  Her name was Vittoria Aleotti, and she was an Augustinian sister who lived from c. 1670-1740.  In addition to her talents as a composer, she was also known as an accomplished organist. In the video below the Green Mountain Project Chant Schola performs her musical setting for “Io v’amo, vita mia”.

Featured Image: “Song of Songs”. Woodcut after a drawing by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld (German painter, 1794 – 1872) 1877

Io v’amo, vita mia, Vittoria Aleotti (c.1575-aft.1620)

Green Mountain Project Chant Schola

Jeffrey Grossman, chamber organ

Hank Heijink, theorbo

Behind Convent Walls with TENET Vocal Artists:

January 4, 2019 Kirkland Chapel at the Fifth Ave Presbyterian Church

Text in Italian:

Io v’amo vita mia Volli sovente dire, Ed ardo ahi lasso. Chiuse la voc’entro le labbi’Amore E vergogna e timore. E mi cangiar d’huom vivo in muto sasso. Amor, ma se tu vuoi Ch’i miei martiri Io pur taccia e sospiri, Tu dilli à lei che mi consuma e sface E le riscalda il sen con la tua face.

English:

“I love you, my life,” I often wanted to say, and “I’m burning for you.” But my voice was within the lips of Love, and shame and fear changed me from a living man into a dumb stone. But, Love, if you want me to stop my suffering and my sighing, tell it to her who consumes and melts me, and ignite her heart with your appearance.

Agnus Dei from Haydn’s Missa in Tempore Belli

Spiritual Warfare has been a theme in a number of my posts recently, and for good reason: while the struggle “against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12) is always with us, it has been causing more than a few ruffles on the surface of the visible world of late.  We can see this eternal struggle reflected not only in the increasing intensity of the Culture War in the secular sphere but, sadly, within the Church as well.

Joseph Haydn by Thomas Hardy, 1791

     What better Music Monday piece, then, than Haydn’s Mass in Time of War (Missa in Tempore Belli)? And what better selection than the Agnus Dei, the Lamb of God, whom we see in the Book of Revelation as the Victor in the final battle of the Cosmic War.

    It was indeed a time of war when Haydn composed the Missa in Tempore Belli in 1796.  His homeland Austria (at the time part of the Holy Roman Empire) had been at war with revolutionary France, and had been losing.  A French invasion seemed imminent.  We can hear the turbulence and uncertainty of the times reflected in Haydn’s music. This mass is also called the Paukenmesse (the “Kettle Drum Mass”) because it features a much more extensive use of percussion than was customary at the time.  In addition to military-sounding drumming, the horns in the Agnus Dei call to mind battle trumpets.

     Franz Joseph Haydn himself was a supremely talented and prolific composer, a gifted teacher (he numbered both Mozart and Beethoven among his pupils, the former also becoming a close friend), a great guy to hang out with, and a joyfully devout Catholic.  This 2014 article in Catholic World Report about the undeserved neglect of this magnificent Man of Music is a great brief introduction to Haydn’s work and life.

In the video below I pair a recording by the Bavarian Broadcasting Choir and Symphony Orchestra (conducted by Leonard Bernstein) with a representation of the Book of Revelation’s Lamb of God painted on the ceiling of the Union Church in Idstein, Germany.

Haydn: Missa in tempore belli “Paukenmesse” – Agnus Dei · Judith Blegen · Brigitte Fassbaender · Claes-Håkon Ahnsjö · Hans Sotin · Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks · Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks · Leonard Bernstein

Haydn: Mass in C “Missa in Tempore Belli”

℗ 1985 Universal International Music B.V.

Released on: 1986-06-03

Composer: Franz Joseph Haydn

Ceiling painting from the Unionskirche, Idstein, Book of Revelation,”Worthy is the Lamb”, showing the Lamb, God the Father, an angel, the four Evangelists as symbolic animals, a row of angels with harps, ca. 1670.

Photo by Gerda Arendt

Giuseppe Sarti’s ‘Now the Powers of Heaven’ and Rublev’s ‘Holy Trinity’

Giuseppe Sarti

Those of us in the West who have heard of the Italian composer Giuseppe Sarti most likely know about him through the tribute paid by another composer: in Mozart’s Don Giovanni Don Juan listens to an air from Sarti’s opera Fra i due litiganti il terzo gode as the old rake enjoys his final dinner before being dragged off to Hell.
     Many of our Orthodox brethren know Sarti more directly: in 1785, the year before his music was show-cased in Mozart’s opera, Sarti took up residence in Russia at the invitation of the Empress Catherine the Great.  There he composed not only operas, but also some magnificent sacred music for use in the Russian Orthodox Church.  In the video below the Chamber Choir Ireland performs one of his best known sacred works, the breath-taking “Now The Powers of Heaven”. 

The featured image is an icon of the Holy Trinity (in the form of the Three Visitors to Abraham in Genesis chapter 18), painted by the Russian Artist Andrei Rublev c. 1411.

      

God, We Praise You – Domenico Scarlatti’s “Te Deum” and Raphael’s “Disputation of the Holy Sacrament”

Domenico Scarlatti

  In the teaching world we have a saying: “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”.  In other words, when we meet the parents, we often understand why our students are the way they are (my lovely bride often quotes this back to me when one of our children does something particularly egregious – I’m not quite sure what she’s getting at).
     Today I mean it in a good way: last week we heard Alessandro Scarlatti’s magnificent Exsultante Deo, today an equally inspiring Te Deum from his son, Domenico Scarlatti (1685 – 1757).  This apple didn’t far fall at all.

To learn more about the Te Deum, see below.

To learn more about the featured image above, Raphael’s The Disputation of the Holy Sacrament, look here.

The Te Deum is an ancient Christian prayer.  Its title comes from its first line in Latin: Te Deum Laudamus, “We praise you, God.”  For many centuries Christians would sing the Te Deum as a song of celebration and thanks to God.  This was true not only after events of clearly religious significance, such as the Christian victory over the Muslim Turks in the Battle of Lepanto in 1572, but on the occasion of more worldly triumphs as well, in recognition that all good things are a gift from God.  For instance, the English King Henry V is reputed to have ordered his army to sing the hymn after their victory over the French at Agincourt in 1415, an event William Shakespeare includes in his play Henry V. 

    While nowhere near as old as the psalms, the Te Deum is still a very ancient prayer, having been composed in the 3rd or 4th century.  Its authorship is unknown, but has been attributed to St. Ambrose and/or St. Augustine, St. Nicetas of Remesiana, or St. Hillary of Poitiers. It has been set to music many times over the centuries.

Te Deum

Te Deum laudámus: te Dominum confitémur.
Te ætérnum Patrem omnis terra venerátur.
Tibi omnes Angeli; tibi cæli et univérsae potestátes.
Tibi Chérubim et Séraphim incessábili voce proclámant:


Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dóminus Deus Sábaoth. Pleni sunt cæli et terra majestátis glóriæ tuæ.
Te gloriósus Apostolórum chorus;
Te Prophetárum laudábilis númerus;
Te Mártyrum candidátus laudat exércitus.
Te per orbem terrárum sancta confitétur Ecclésia: Patrem imménsæ majestátis;
Venerándum tuum verum
et únicum Fílium;
Sanctum quoque Paráclitum Spíritum.
Tu Rex glóriæ, Christe.
Tu Patris sempitérnus es Fílius.
Tu ad liberándum susceptúrus hóminem,

non horruísti Vírginis úterum.
Tu, devícto mortis acúleo, aperuísti credéntibus regna cælórum.
Tu ad déxteram Dei sedes, in glória Patris.
Judex créderis esse ventúrus.
Te ergo quǽsumus, tuis fámulis súbveni,    
quos pretióso sánguine redemísti.
Ætérna fac cum sanctis tuis in glória

numerári.
Salvum fac pópulum tuum, Dómine,
et bénedic hæreditáti tuæ.
Et rege eos, et extólle illos usque in ætérnum.
Per síngulos dies benedícimus te.
Et laudámus nomen tuum in sǽculum, et in sǽculum sǽculi.
Dignáre, Dómine, die isto sine peccáto nos custodíre.
Miserére nostri, Dómine, miserére nostri.
Fiat misericórdia tua, Dómine, super nos, quemádmodum sperávimus in te.
In te, Dómine, sperávi: non confúndar in ætérnum.
You are God: we praise you;
You are the Lord: we acclaim you;
You are the eternal Father:
All creation worships you.
To you all angels, all the powers of heaven,
Cherubim and Seraphim, sing in endless praise:
Holy, holy, holy, Lord, God of power and might,
heaven and earth are full of your glory.The glorious company of apostles praise you.
The noble fellowship of prophets praise you.
The white-robed army of martyrs praise you.
Throughout the world the holy Church acclaims you:
Father, of majesty unbounded,your true and only Son, worthy of all worship,
and the Holy Spirit, advocate and guide.
You, Christ, are the King of glory,
the eternal Son of the Father.
When you became man to set us free
you did not spurn the Virgin’s womb.

You overcame the sting of death,
and opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers.
You are seated at God’s right hand in glory.
We believe that you will come, and be our judge.
Come then, Lord, and help your people,
bought with the price of your own blood,
and bring us with your saints to glory everlasting.
Save your people, Lord, and bless your inheritance.— Govern and uphold them now and always.
Day by day we bless you.
— We praise your name for ever.
Keep us today, Lord, from all sin.
— Have mercy on us, Lord, have mercy.
Lord, show us your love and mercy,
— for we have put our trust in you.In you, Lord, is our hope:
— And we shall never hope in vain.

Exult in God with Sacred Music and Art: Alessandro Scarlatti’s “Exultate Deo” and “Jesus Christ the Returning King” by Janusz Antosz

 It’s only natural that the children of a loving Father should try to please and honor him. And so for the past two thousand years, Christians have put untold effort, ingenuity and love into creating a magnificent store of inspiring art of all sorts to glorify God, including a treasury of sacred music unmatched for its depth, breadth, and sheer beauty.

Alessandro Scarlatti

     Sometimes it seems we’re throwing it all away.  All too often, it seems, we keep the best china and good silver locked away and receive the Lord of Creation with the equivalent of paper plates and plastic forks at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb.

     It doesn’t need to be that way.  We all can and should advocate for liturgical music worthy of Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.  And if it’s any comfort, long after nobody remembers that there was any such thing as “Anthem” or “Lord of the Dance”, Alessandro Scarlatti’s “Exultate Domine” will still be there, and still sound like music fit for The King.

      Scarlatti lived from 1660 to 1725 and was a prolific composer of both sacred and secular music. His joyful “Exultate Deo” is a musical setting for Psalm 81, which begins Exultate Deo adjutori nostro, “Sing joyfully to God our help.” The Ensemble of the Bellevue Presbyterian Church performs Scarlatti’s composition in the clip below.   

    Scarlatti was composing 300 years ago, but not all inspiring Christian art is a product of an earlier era.  The beautiful featured image at the top of the page, “Jesus Christ the Returning King”, was created just a few years ago, in 2005, by artist Janusz Antosz.  Below the music clip you can find the artist’s explanation of the meaning of this wonderful work of art (excerpted from a longer article accompanied by a video interview of the artist at https://directionforourtimes.com/image-of-jesus-christ-the-returning-king-2/)

The artist of this painting, Janusz Antosz explains that before he began this painting he experienced a long period of pain and suffering. From beginning to end it took him over a year to complete the painting. Janusz stated clearly that this painting is the pearl of his entire body of work. He explained that it is a painting from a technical standpoint, but has many aspects of an icon. The painting blends the Western European painting style with the style of icons from the East. He wanted the painting to have the look of both, so as to include all of the Catholic Church (Eastern and Latin) as well as other Christian Orthodox. It is a merging of styles that represents a hope for Christian unity. According to Janusz, it shows our Lord’s longing “that they may be one, as We are one” (John 17:22). As a whole, the painting is meant to reflect the glory of heaven.

He explains how at the bottom of the painting the two individuals represent the Eastern and Western saints. The Eastern saint is the hooded individual and the other, a Western saint. In the painting they both adore the Lord which represents that all believers, from East to West, will adore the Lord. The flowers along the arch at the top of the painting, which are bell shaped, symbolize the good news of a beginning, or in other words, an announcement of a coming. For example, at the beginning of Mass, the bells are rung and the priest enters the sanctuary.  In this case, it is the High priest entering. Further, the gold area directly below the arch represents the glory and reality of heaven.

In regards to Our Lord’s vestments and the color of the vestments, this is important. Our Lord is dressed as a bishop/priest and the colors are those traditionally used to portray sacrifice as well as glory and praise. The pattern on the vestments is consistent with patterns found in icons, while the color of the alb is blue. The Lord’s face is modeled after the Shroud of Turin, while his hand is the gesture of a blessing and also means “I love you” in sign language. Additionally the scepter with the cross at the top represents that through the power of the cross, all power rests with the Lord “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me” (Matt 28:18) This also confirms His kingship – “The King of kings and the Lord of lords.” (1 Tim 6:15) Which is reflected by the crown on His head.

Around his halo are symbols: the letter N is Greek for “I am.” These words are taken from the book of Exodus 3:14, when Moses asks God for His name. According to an expert on icons, O and N are symbols of the presence of God and the mystery of the incarnation – the divine presence becomes visible in the New Covenant when, after having received a body by being born of the Virgin Mary, He appears to us so that we may adore Him as God, who is love. Janusz describes his inspiration for Jesus’s throne is in a style from the 17th century Baroque period. The light, bright colors represent Christ the King’s purity, beauty and holiness.

On the top of the throne, Janusz goes on to explain that these are lily flowers closest to Our Lord and represent His purity. As well, the angels are Seraphim angels- the angels present at God’s throne who constantly praise Him (Isaiah 6:1-7). Around the neck of Jesus is a medal with a cross on it, this cross is directly over Our Lord’s Sacred Heart. It is meant to show that by dying on the cross, He shows the love He has for each one of us. You will also see on the painting the flowers directly to the left and right of Jesus; they are wide open and facing the Lord, meaning they are praising and giving great glory to the Lord. Near there are the grapes and the wheat which represent the Holy Eucharist. You will also notice an open area between the two groups of flowers. Janusz said that he wanted to convey that by prayer and meditation we will have no obstruction on the journey to Christ. We will all have a direct path or an open road to the Lord and we will gain a more intimate relationship and closer union with Him.

The last thing to mention is that on the top of the painting there are gold leaves. These leaves are leaves of a vine, indicating that Jesus is the vine (John 15:1). The leaves are open and giving glory to Our Lord. They are also positioned to showcase Our Lord.

“Gloria” from Johann Baptist Wanhal’s Missa Solemnis

     It’s hard to overstate how much beautiful, excellent music has been created over the centuries, and how much of it is rarely heard by the vast majority of people.  Last week I published a clip of a “Kyrie” composed by Johann Baptist Wanhal.  Wanhal was an important and influential composer of the late 18th and early 19th centuries who was admired by contemporary composers such as Haydn and Mozart.  For a variety of reasons, even people who know little about classical music know the names of these last two, but have never heard of Wanhal . . .

     . . . which is unfortunate, because his music is very much worth hearing.  One of my goals in setting up this blog was to share more widely some of the treasures from our storehouse of sacred music. Last week’s election was from Wanhal’s Missa Pastoralis; today I’m sharing the magnificent “Gloria” from his Missa Solemnis:

Video:

Missa Solemnis: Gloria · Colin Ainsworth

Vanhal: Missa Pastoralis – Missa Solemnis

℗ 2001 Naxos

Released on: 2001-06-13

Ensemble: Aradia Ensemble
Artist: Colin Ainsworth
Artist: Mary Enid Haines
Artist: Nina Scott Stoddart
Artist: Steven Pitkanen
Choir: TOWER Voices New Zealand
Conductor: Uwe Grodd
Composer: Johann Baptist Vanhal
Artwork: Joseph Kastner “Angels in Heaven” from the Carmelite Monastery Church, Döbling,  Austria (1906-19100

Music Monday: “Kyrie” From Wanhal’s Missa Pastoralis

     One of the wonderful things about having a centuries-deep treasury of sacred music is that there’s always more to discover. I was listening to a classical radio station the other day when I was in the car with one of my sons, when a beautiful but unfamiliar composition was playing.  “There’s a lot going on in this music,” my son observed (approvingly).  I suggested that it sounded like it could be Mozart, or Haydn, but neither of us could identify it.  When the piece finished, and the radio announcer (do we call them “disk jockeys” on classical radio stations?) attributed it to a composer named Vanhal, we assumed that he was probably a late 18th century imitator of Mozart and Haydn.

Johann Baptist Wanhal

     As it happens, the influence is as likely, or even more likely, to have gone the other way.  Johann Baptist Wanhal (in recent years his name is sometimes given its Czech form, Jan Křtitel Vaňhal) was a slightly older contemporary of Mozart who lived from 1739-1813, whose work was greatly admired by Mozart and other Viennese composers of the time.  He composed an impressive number of symphonies, masses, and other works.  Curiously, in spite of the high regard of his contemporaries, Wanhal’s music was mostly forgotten after his death in 1813.  According to the website of the Johann Baptist Wanhal Association:

Most of Wanhal’s church music (at least 250 works including 48 masses) remains unstudied and unpublished, and little is known about it other than the names of the churches and monasteries that appear on the title pages. However, after he examined two of Wanhal’s late masses, Rochlitz (a well-known German specialist of Bach, Haydn, and Mozart) endorsed their high quality.

Thanks to the work of the Wanhal Association and others, Wanhal’s beautiful work, both sacred and secular, is slowly making its way back into public view. The Aradia Ensemble recorded two of Wanhal’s masses twenty years ago, a Missa Pastoralis in G Major and a Missa Solemnis in C Major.  I’m making some videos from this recording which I’ll post here and on Vimeo.  Today’s selection is the beautiful “Kyrie” from the Missa Pastoralis.

Featured image top of page: “Haydn Playing with Mozart, Dittersdorf, and Wanhal”, c. 1790, attributed to Schmid

Rossini-Agnus Dei (Petite Messe Solennelle)

Giaochino Rossini

  Giaochino Rossini was, in his time, considered the most successful composer of operas in history, creating such enduring favorites as The Barber of Seville, La Cenerentola, and William Tell. Then, having composed an astounding 39 operas before his 37th birthday in 1829, he simply stopped.  For the rest of his life, until his death almost four decades later in 1868, his few compositions were mostly religious music. 

    The clip below is the moving “Agnus Dei” from Rossini’s Petite Messe Solennelle, which is one of his last works, completed in 1863. 

Featured image above: Agnus Dei by Francisco Zurburan, 1640

Music Monday- ‘Dark Night of the Soul’ by Ola Gjeilo

   My Monday Music selections are usually compositions from the treasury of Catholic sacred music, some of them centuries old. There are still some composers even today, however, who are composing music worthy of that tradition. A couple months ago I posted a setting to the “Te Deum” by Pedro Camacho. The words to the hymn go back to the earliest centuries of the Church, the music premiered less than two years (Camacho has also composed music for video games: a guy has to make a living, I suppose . . . )

Ola Gjeilo playing piano

      Another promising recent composer is the Norwegian-born Ola Gjeilo, who is very recent indeed, having been born in 1978, the same year St. John Paul II was elevated to the Papacy.  I can’t tell from the biographical information I’ve seen whether or not he is a believer, or whether he simply finds the Christian (particularly the Catholic) tradition a particularly rich vein to mine for musical inspiration. Whatever the reason, religious music has been a large part of his output to date: he has composed a Mass, for instance, a breath-taking “Sanctus”, and his own musical setting for the ancient hymn “Ubi Caritas”.

 The piece below is called “Dark Night of the Soul”, a musical accompaniment to several verses from St. John of the Cross’ work of that name.  The musical composition premiered in 2010. Gjeilo says that, when he was introduced to St. John’s text, “I fell in love with its passionate spirituality right away.”  He adds that, musically, “One of the things I wanted to do in this piece was to make the choir and piano fairly equal, as if in a dialogue; often the piano is accompanying the choir, but sometimes the choir is accompanying the piano (or violin).”

The Ensemble of the Chancel Choir performs Gjeilo’s composition in the clip below.  I have posted the words under the video.

One dark night,
fired with love’s urgent longings
—ah, the sheer grace!—
I went out unseen,
my house being now all stilled.
In darkness, and secure,
by the secret ladder, disguised,
—ah, the sheer grace!—
in darkness and concealment,
my house being now all stilled.
On that glad night, in secret,
for no one saw me,
nor did I look at anything,
with no other light or guide
than the one that burned in my heart.

– St. John of the Cross (1542-1592)

‘Nisi Dominus’: Arrows in the Hand of a Warrior

Nisi Dominus from Monteverdi’s Vespro Della Beata Vergine

Babylon Breughel - Nisi Dominus
*

Nisi Dominus: Unless the Lord Builds the House . . .

Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643) was probably the most important composer in the transition from Renaissance Polyphony to Baroque.  This beautiful piece from his Vespers composition, Vespro della Beata Vergine (1610), is a musical setting for Psalm 127 (sometimes listed as Psalm 126).  

This particular psalm (printed in full below the music video) has always resonated with me. It is fairly short (four stanzas), but beautifully reminds us of our dependence on God and his providential care.  The psalm opens with the image of house construction: “Unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.”  (Ps 127:1)  The psalmist then presents a series of images illustrating how useless our efforts are without God’s help:

Unless the LORD watches over the city,

the watchman stays awake in vain.

It is in vain that you rise up early

and go late to rest,

eating the bread of anxious toil;

for he gives to his beloved sleep. (Ps 127:1-2)

What an eloquent reminder that it is only through Grace that our efforts bear fruit!

Arrows in the Hand of a Warrior

     We see a shift of focus in the last half of Psalm 127: instead of building a house, here we are building our “house”, that is, our family, again only through the Grace of God: “Lo, sons are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward.” (Ps 127:3)  Here, too, God is the real author; and our children are His Providence in tangible form: both gift and blessing, which is to say their source is God, and that’s a good thing. And not good in only a spiritual sense:

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior

are the sons of one’s youth.

Happy is the man

who has his quiver full of them!

He shall not be put to shame

when he speaks with his enemies in the gate. (Ps 127:5)

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the sons of one’s youth. -Psalm 127:4

You can’t ask for images more down-to-earth than these: our sons are like weapons, they’ll back us up when we face our enemies . . . and all through the generosity of the Lord.

The Blessed Event

     It will come as no surprise that the idea of our progeny as gift and blessing is not as common as it once was.  More than forty years ago, in his introduction to Pope John Paul I’s Illustrissimi, John Cardinal Wright wrote:

     The present almost pathological lack of joy shows up in every vocation and in every area of life.  There already exist among us people who rejoice as little in the coming of children as once used to do only some of our neo-pagan neighbors.  Among descendents of people who, only yesterday, spoke of the coming of a baby as a “blessed event,” maternity  is no longer thought joyful.

That train has gone much further down the track since 1979, so that now even a recent President of the United States is on record as having remarked disapprovingly on young women being “punished with a baby”.

     We need to speak out, of course, against this anti-child attitude, the anti-family ethos and what Pope John Paul II called the Culture of Death. But we also need to remember, as Cardinal Wright points out, that our message is at root a message of Joy. Our children, and children in general (sadly, not all who wish to have their quivers filled in this way are granted that grace) are “a heritage from the LORD,the fruit of the womb a reward.”.  We need to say it often, and live it publicly, and always give thanks to God for building up our house.

Sacred Music: Monteverdi’s “Nisi Dominus”

The clip below features a perfomance by by Consortium Carissimi on January 4, 2015.

PSALM 127

Unless the LORD builds the house,

those who build it labor in vain.

Unless the LORD watches over the city,

the watchman stays awake in vain.

It is in vain that you rise up early

and go late to rest,

eating the bread of anxious toil;

for he gives to his beloved sleep.

Lo, sons are a heritage from the LORD,

the fruit of the womb a reward.

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior

are the sons of one’s youth.

Happy is the man

who has his quiver full of them!

He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.