Calm Before the Storm

There is something undeniably rich and full about silence. On Holy Saturday especially, there is a feeling like a “calm before a storm”. Jesus’ crucifixion has been achieved and his body has been laid into the tomb. Notably, where before the cross there were three Marys (Jesus’ mother, the wife of Clopus, and the Magdalene), at the tomb there are only the latter two—along with a woman named Salome. Jesus’ mother by her absence shows that she knows that there is no need to go. Surely she is not at home prostrate with grief; she knows that the story isn’t over when everyone else thinks it is.

My earliest encounter with karate was watching an episode of an old western on television in about 1960. It was about an apparent sissy who appears in town; he wears nice suits and dressy cloth gloves on his hands. He is bullied and mocked by the he-men cowboys. He’s pushed around on the street and sneered at in the saloon. Finally, as the show nears its end, when he is mocked once again for wearing fancy gloves, he has had enough; he gets up from the table and takes off his gloves. His knuckles are enlarged with calluses. One of the punchers asks, “Wh—, whut happen to yo’ hands?” The newcomer smashes a table with his hands and then lights into the cowboys and lays them all out. Turns out he had recently returned from several years’ stay in the Orient where he had learned karate.

That was the time when karate was becoming known in the United States and schools were beginning to appear. A friend of mine became interested in karate in the late 1950s when a schoolmate said, “There’s this thing called karate [which he pronounced ‘kay-rate’], and the guys who do it can break boards with their hands.” Shortly after that my friend opportunely moved with his family to Korea for business and he earned a black belt in Tang Soo Do, a style of Korean karate, from the founder-master. (It was the same style as Chuck Norris’, who also first learned in Korea.) When my friend returned to the United States, he opened the first Tang Soo Do school in the nation.

The idea of an apparent weakling who humbly takes abuse from bullies until he finally turns the tables is one of the great stories of humanity. There are many such stories in our culture, in movies and books, many of which I could name.

Deep down, it is the story of Jesus—a fantasy which became fact. Betrayed by a disciple, Jesus was taken into custody by his enemies who were too cowardly to arrest him openly in public, put through a sham trial, and then taken to the secular authorities represented by Pontius Pilate who declared him innocent yet condemned him to death anyway as a savvy political move designed to keep the peace in a tense, politically fragile situation. All of them were bullies who abused their power to rid themselves of one seemingly weak and friendless man who threatened their security.

The week of political, legal, and official manipulation and self-protection finally culminated in an apparent triumph for the bullies. Jesus was executed and then buried in a borrowed tomb. Holy Saturday is the day after the crowd had done its worst to the apparent weakling, and think that they’ve won.

And then the weakling takes off his gloves.

There are many paintings by countless artists of the crucifixion, and a good number of the resurrection. But I think there is only one of the events of Holy Saturday. The day of rich quiet. The calm before the storm. It is this one. It is called “Easter morning”, and was painted by Caspar David Friedrich (1774-1840). It is housed in a private collection in Switzerland; the painting was rendered in the early 1830s but not made public until 1973. It shows the two Marys and Salome going to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus. The bare trees are symbols of death, and the women are mourning like anyone else who'd had lost to death someone that they loved. Yet the full moon overhead symbolizes the resurrection of Jesus that has already happened, and which they are about to discover. The calm of Holy Saturday is already giving way to the storm of the resurrection. It is the Great Reversal. “Death is conquered, man is free, Christ has won the victory.”

The Four Marian Anthems

The four Marian anthems are hymns to the Virgin Mary used every evening during four seasons of the year. I have forgotten where I first heard of them, but for years they have been part of my personal devotions. Except for the first, their history is obscure and their authorship is unknown, but they have had their own music and have been used in the liturgy since 1239. Several texts are at least a century older than that, and the first goes back almost a thousand years.

They are the Alma Redemptoris Mater (Loving Mother of our Savior), the Ave Regina Caelorum (Hail, O Queen of heaven), the Regina Caeli (Queen of heaven), and the Salve Regina (Hail Queen). These are love poems of surpassing beauty, prayed devotedly by the faithful for many generations.

Just a day or two ago, while browsing Wikipedia I learned that the first, Alma Redemptoris Mater, was composed by a most unusual and impressive person named Hermann of Reichenau who lived in the eleventh century (July 18, 1013 to September 24, 1054). He was also known as Hermann the Cripple. He was beatified (the last stage before canonization as a Saint) in 1863, but has not been canonized. At least not yet. He was afflicted by a terrible disease from his earliest years. Scholarly guesses are that he may have suffered from Lou Gehrig’s Disease, but that is not certain; early descriptions of his deformity suggest that he may suffered from a cleft palate and spinal bifida. Whatever his affliction, he had great difficulty moving and could hardly speak. When he was seven, his parents could no longer take care of him adequately, and so placed him in a monastery, the Abbey of Reichenau in Germany. It is located on an island, and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Hermann grew up there, became a professed monk when he was twenty, and died at the age of 41.

In spite of his physical disabilities, he had a brilliant mind and became proficient in musical theory and composition, geometry and mathematics, astronomy, history, poetry, and theology. He wrote on each of these subjects, and also built musical and astronomical instruments, including an astrolabe—one of the earliest in Europe. He was also proficient in several languages, including Arabic, Greek, and Latin. He is one of a few people called a scientist-cleric.

While many of his works have lasted to this day nearly a thousand years later, the one for which he is best known is the Alma Redemptoris Mater. I can never pray it again without thinking of Hermann and giving thanks to God for his life, genius, and especially his perseverance through his disabilities to excel in so many fields of endeavor.

Here is the text of the anthem he wrote, followed by the texts of the other three Marian anthems. (Hermann is traditionally considered to have composed the Salve Regina also, but most scholars doubt that attribution.) Various versions of their performance can be found on youtube.

Alma Redemptoris Mater

By Bl. Hermann of Reichenau

Gracious Mother of our Redeemer, for ever abiding Queen of heaven and Star of the sea, O pray for your children, who, though falling, strive to rise again. You, maiden, have borne your holy Creator to the wonder of all nature; ever-virgin, after as before you received that Ave from the mouth of Gabriel, intercede for us sinners.

Ave Regina Caelorum

This poetic text can be sung to Hymn 339, “Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness”

Hail, O Queen of heavenly regions,

Mistress of angelic legions,

Root of Jesse, heaven’s portal,

Whence has risen the Light immortal.

Joy to you, O Virgin blessèd,

Fairest of our race confessèd,

Hail, O ever-beauteous maiden,

Plead to Christ for souls sin-laden.

Regina Caeli

This poetic text can be sung to Hymn 207, “Jesus Christ is risen today”

Joy to you, O Queen of heaven, alleluia;

He whom you were meet to bear, alleluia,

As he promised, has arisen, alleluia;

Pour for us to him your prayer, alleluia.

Salve Regina

There are two versions printed below; the first is Anglican and the second is Roman Catholic.

Mary, we hail you, Mother and Queen compassionate; Mary, most holy, great, and pure, we hail you. To you your children, members of Christ, lift our voices. To you we sing praises, for by your obedience you brought forth to us the Savior. Pray for us now, O our intercessor, that the grace of earnest repentance be given to us sinners. And may we, when our earthly sojourn has been ended, joy in Jesus, the blessed fruit of your womb, O gentle, O tender, O gracious Virgin Mary.

Mary, we hail you, Mother and Queen compassionate; Mary, most holy, great, and pure, we hail you. To you we cry, the children of Eve; to you we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this land of exile. Turn, then, most gracious advocate, your eyes of mercy toward us; lead us home at last. And may we, when our earthly sojourn has been ended, joy in Jesus, the blessed fruit of your womb, O gentle, O tender, O gracious Virgin Mary.