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Mar. 20th, 2011
Remember Your Love
Mar. 20th, 2011 09:59 pmI admire ritual. Maybe I could say I'm a fan of it. There is something beautiful about the symbolism tied to a repetition, valued for its own sake as well as for what it represents. We are pattern-seeking creatures, finely crafted to create the stories we need out of the chaos of our existence. Ritual is powerful, moving, transcendent - even if the philosophy or religion that scaffold the ritual are something I cannot get behind.
The funeral was beautiful. Catholics are wonderful at rituals, both grand and small. I once knew a Witch who said she drifted back to the path she was on because she had been raised on Catholic ritual, and needed a way to find that beauty again in her new faith. This one was conducted by monks, the last few in this order, dressed in their medieval white. Parts of the service were sung, one voice a clear tenor, the other a striking bass.
The service spun around a single axis, love. Love in service, love in family, love in faith, love in your fellow human beings. One prayer in particular, a simple request to God, addressed in the informal second person singular, despite the use of Seigneur. I have no idea if this is an older prayer that has become familiarized, or if it once existed in Latin.
We pray you, Lord, remember your love.
It was done as a response from the gathered, repeated after each request.
A request to be kind to the soul that was coming to join the hosts of heaven.
A request for kindness to be in the hearts of all.
A request for more justice in the world.
A request to give thought to the oppressed, and the exploited.
A request for peace to be in the thoughts of humanity.
After each, the simple statement.
We pray you, Lord, remember your love.
It is, in many ways, all we ask of anyone. It's all we can ask, and often it is all we should ask.
Of family.
Of friends.
Of paramours.
Of strangers.
Of those we meet.
Of those we never will.
Of the World.
Of Gods.
Of Everything.
Of Everyone.
Of Ourselves.
Remember your love.
Remember your love.
Remember your love.
Amen.
The funeral was beautiful. Catholics are wonderful at rituals, both grand and small. I once knew a Witch who said she drifted back to the path she was on because she had been raised on Catholic ritual, and needed a way to find that beauty again in her new faith. This one was conducted by monks, the last few in this order, dressed in their medieval white. Parts of the service were sung, one voice a clear tenor, the other a striking bass.
The service spun around a single axis, love. Love in service, love in family, love in faith, love in your fellow human beings. One prayer in particular, a simple request to God, addressed in the informal second person singular, despite the use of Seigneur. I have no idea if this is an older prayer that has become familiarized, or if it once existed in Latin.
We pray you, Lord, remember your love.
It was done as a response from the gathered, repeated after each request.
A request to be kind to the soul that was coming to join the hosts of heaven.
A request for kindness to be in the hearts of all.
A request for more justice in the world.
A request to give thought to the oppressed, and the exploited.
A request for peace to be in the thoughts of humanity.
After each, the simple statement.
We pray you, Lord, remember your love.
It is, in many ways, all we ask of anyone. It's all we can ask, and often it is all we should ask.
Of family.
Of friends.
Of paramours.
Of strangers.
Of those we meet.
Of those we never will.
Of the World.
Of Gods.
Of Everything.
Of Everyone.
Of Ourselves.
Remember your love.
Remember your love.
Remember your love.
Amen.