Unitarian Hymnal Sing-along

In which Kathryn attempts to sing a different song everyday from the Unitarian Universalist hymnal, 'Singing the Living Tradition'. Earlier posts are based on songs from the Reader's Digest songbooks she found at yard sales as a child, including: 'Reader's Digest Treasury of Best Loved Songs', 'Reader's Digest Family Songbook', and 'Reader's Digest Family Songbook of Faith and Joy'. Bonus Folk song material from: 'Folk Song USA', by John and Alan Lomax.

12 December 2006

"The King of All Kings"

This song feels like a classic, with one exception. The style, the chords, the text (for the most part): all classic gospel stuff. Satisfying to sing. My guess, though, is that this song comes too close to endorsing the scientific view of creation to have survived. It's this: '. . . as bright as the flash that started creation in that dim distant past. . .' But what do I know? Maybe churches all over the country are singing this song every Sunday.

Tonight I had another good discussion with my Rabbi friend, we mused on the Science vs. Religion debate. For me, it's a really short talk (followed by a longer discussion of why why why does this still go on). Science and religion don't have a whole lot in common. Why even attempt to reconcile them? Does faith have to subscribe to the scientific method? Does science have to prove the Divine?

I am more of a scientifically minded person. I want to know how things work. I like the logic of the experimental method. Math makes me happy, order and rules as they apply to our natural world strike me as elegant. Pondering that elegance, that beauty, I slip into wonder and mystery. Science doesn't explain everything. Maybe someday it will, but I'm thinking that we shouldn't hold our breath. I want to read about all the latest discoveries, the theories, the proof against the theories, and the new theories. I love the process of trying to make sense of it all. But I am in no rush. The world is still big. I have experienced things in a spiritual or ritual context that resonate strongly within me as true, and yet there is no scientific explanation for why I experienced those things. There is a logic that can be applied, though, I understand it to some extent--and then I let myself bask again in the mystery, the truth that comes from the inside.

Because I accept the world in all its mystery and beauty, I accept that there is much that I do not know or understand, especially when it comes to living on this Earth. People are so similar, so different, so never ever boring. Most feel that the final test of our faith, or lack thereof, will be when we leave this body, this planet, when we die, as we all will. Why not just wait until then, see what comes. We can't avoid that final journey, and what will happen then, will happen. It's our last experiment, with just that little problem of reporting back. . .

05 December 2006

"It Is No Secret"

I want to be respectful, but I've been singing this song on and off for a month, and I'm so sick of it. I sing it, I don't have time to write the blog, days pass, I sing it again, repeat often. Not singing my song of the day has not been helpful for my ongoing vocal studies. Singing is good, and it promotes improved pianistic sight reading as well. In the midst of my frantic holiday preparations I am in need of good things for me. I will try again.

I'm feeling very old, these days. Things that I could do reasonable well, say, last year (or so it seems in retrospect), I'm doing noticeably less well now. Piano playing and running are at the top of today's list, though I could add general ability to remember as well. My whole life would be much happier if I weren't feeling so very poor, also. Business has not been so great, too, and while I can accept this in a general sense, I'm torn between blaming myself for my lack of self-promotion, and pure panic over bills that I cannot currently pay.

Not writing on a regular basis has obviously left much scum at the top of my mind. Whining is so bothersome and boring. I will skim and try again tomorrow.

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