Play Your Hand III

SINGING

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Shuffle the Deck

Do you ever re-read a book or watch a movie for the tenth time (say, The Sound of Music) and find yourself surprised to notice something you never saw previously, despite the work's familarity? Christmas music can be like that. Perhaps you traveled this year and you're arrested by a reference to Christ as the Desire of nations... Or you served your country in Iraq, and "peace on earth, goodwill to men" rings in your ears with new force. Maybe you're involuntarily childless and you appreciate "For unto us a Son is given..."

Put on some Christmas music and pay attention to the words. Appreciate the organization of Scripture in Handel's "Messiah." Discern the message in "The Holly and the Ivy." Or figure out for the first time the point in the one about the good king who stepped out on the Feast of Stephen. Perhaps you've sung the first verse of something and never actually understood it, so it's both familiar and unfamiliar. Start by considering the lyrics to "Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming":

Lo, how a Rose e’er blooming from tender stem hath sprung!
Of Jesse’s lineage coming, as men of old have sung.
It came, a floweret bright, amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night.

Isaiah ’twas foretold it, the Rose I have in mind;
With Mary we behold it, the virgin mother kind.
To show God’s love aright, she bore to men a Savior,
When half spent was the night.

The shepherds heard the story proclaimed by angels bright,
How Christ, the Lord of glory was born on earth this night.
To Bethlehem they sped and in the manger found Him,
As angel heralds said.

This Flower, whose fragrance tender with sweetness fills the air,
Dispels with glorious splendor the darkness everywhere;
True Man, yet very God, from sin and death He saves us,
And lightens every load.

O Savior, Child of Mary, who felt our human woe,
O Savior, King of glory, who dost our weakness know;
Bring us at length we pray, to the bright courts of Heaven,
And to the endless day!

Listen anew, ponder anew. And when something strikes you with new force, sing it out. Own it. Make it your own. Then offer it up.

In case you're wondering what is behind this exercise, here's the scoop.

Contemplative Christmas III

This is Week 3 of the SoulPerSuit Contemplative Christmas. I pray you're enjoying it as much as I am!

Both of the previous themes, Barn Smells and Bright Lights, are still open for your artwork and commentary. Please drop us a note if you'd like to add something to the on-going discussion.


Joining us for the first time? Welcome!

Each week here on SoulPerBlog we'll be posting a theme phrase to reflect on during this Christmas season and one or two Shuffle the Deck activities to kick start your creative thinking. Otherwise, SoulPerSuit is going to let Emmanuel speak for himself. All the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and sensations of this Christmas season are at the disposal of the Holy Spirit. You just need your Bible and your imagination.

Here is Week 3's theme.

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This week's theme is:
Singing

Optional Shuffle The Deck activities to get things rolling:

1) Below is a list of 25 words. Select any five of them and use them in some way to create a worship service. If possible, try to include all five senses in your service. You can write your service out, record it, videotape it, create a collage from magazine clippings – however you want to record your service.

Burned
Straw
Ripe
Barn
Trough

Bright
Gold
Regal
Star
Field

Loud
Soft
Melodic
Distant
Tender

Fur
Gravel
Dry Leaves
Bark
Numb

Milk
Wine
Water
Bread
Spicy


2) Record yourself singing or playing your favorite Christmas carol. Or make yourself a mix of several artist’s versions of the same song.

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So, what next? We are hopeful that the Holy Spirit will lead you in worship over the next week.
If you'd like to worship and reflect quietly then you don't need to do anything.
If you create a piece of artwork or have thoughts you'd like to share publicly (or you're new here and wondering what on earth these people are doing), click here to see what on earth we're doing.

The Give and Take of Art

A few nights ago, I was reading the CD insert for my Seal CD and came upon this wonderful sentiment:

One of the most popular questions people seem to ask is, "Why don't you print your lyrics on the album?" Well, the answer to that is that quite often, my songs mean one thing to me and another to the listener. But that's OK because I think it's the general vibe of what I'm saying that is important and not the exact literal translation. How many times have you fallen in love with a lyric that you thought went, "Show me a day with Hilda Ogden and I'll despair," only to find that it went "Show me a way to solve your problems and I'll be there." I guess what I'm saying is that the song is always larger in the listeners mind because with it they attach imagery which is relative to their own personal experience. So it is your perception of what I'm saying rather than what I actually say that is the key.

You give something.
I give something different.

I take something.
You take something different.

That is the beauty of art. That is the beauty of life.

Auditory Transport

On Father's Day, my husband was finishing a project in the backyard and as I stood there holding his icy glass of lemonade for him (it was the least I could do, it was Father's Day, you know!), I was hit smack in the ears by a memory.
My hubby fired up his circular saw to trim a few pieces of wood for the ramp he was building and all of a sudden, my childhood came flooding back to me. In particular, my childhood with my dad.

I cannot remember a house that we lived in where my father didn't make some kind of addition or major alteration. The sound of the drill and the circular saw hummed through the air every spring, summer and autumn weekend of my childhood. Dad built patios, room additions, rabbit hutches, back decks, gazebos, bookshelves, pantries, even a dining room set.


Standing there last Sunday with my husband's icy lemonade glass dripping in my hand, I became a 9 year old, standing there with my dad's glass of icy lemonade dripping in my hand. Watching with interest how he sawed and drilled. Asking for his leftover scraps of wood to build a fort. Wanting to help him work, but unable to bear the heat. Skipping off to run in the sprinkler and drink some lemonade myself. The sound of the circular saw buzzing in the background of my play.

That night I called my dad to share my memory with him.

Is there a sound that brings back a memory so strong that it transports you to another time or place?