Crime and Punishment: "I am the Murderer!"

From the cover of a recent Russian edition.

Today I shall present and comment briefly upon two scenes from Dostoevsky's enduring masterpiece Crime and Punishment.

I am fascinated by a trio of characters (one of whom has only a minor role in the story) and how the drama of guilt, suffering, justice, and compassion plays out between them.

Personal guilt is a deep focus of the novel, but a peculiar and extreme character—Nikolay—enters in as one of the figures who represents (here in an exaggerated and unorthodox manner that is rich in poetic shock value) the sense of the universality of human sinfulness and the redeeming value of suffering. Other figures in the novel (e.g. Sonya) are more important for this theme, but Nikolay's short role has a crucial place in the story.

The scenario that connects these characters is difficult to sketch out for those who don't already know the book. Really, if anyone hasn't read this book yet, they should read it. Those who have read it should read it again.

Briefly, the police detective Porfiry Petrovitch is conducting a murder investigation which leads him into a battle of wits with the grim, idealistic proto-Nietzschean Übermensch-wannabe university student Rodion Romanovitch Raskolnikov.

Porfiry has a scheme to try to prompt Raskolnikov into some kind of "slip" that would reveal his involvement in the crime, and he is about to spring it when one of the house painters who was also at the murder scene, Nikolay, bursts into the room....

...............................................................................................................................

Nikolay suddenly knelt down.

“What’s the matter?” cried Porfiry, surprised.

“I am guilty! Mine is the sin! I am the murderer,” Nikolay articulated suddenly, rather breathless, but speaking fairly loudly.

For ten seconds there was silence as though all had been struck dumb; even the warder stepped back, mechanically retreated to the door, and stood immovable.

“What is it?” cried Porfiry Petrovitch, recovering from his momentary stupefaction.

“I… am the murderer,” repeated Nikolay, after a brief pause.

“What… you… what… whom did you kill?” Porfiry Petrovitch was obviously bewildered.

Nikolay again was silent for a moment.

“Alyona Ivanovna and her sister Lizaveta Ivanovna, I… killed… with an axe. Darkness came over me,” he added suddenly, and was again silent.

..................................................................................................................

Some time later on, Porfiry Petrovitch meets Raskolnikov for an "open conversation" in which he discloses his own conviction about what really happened that night, about why Nikolay was taking the blame for something he did not do, and about who actually killed the two old women with an axe and what his real motivations were. Porfiry has no proof for his explanation. But he believes that the real murderer still has a conscience....

...................................................................................................................

Porfiry is speaking: “Do you know, Rodion Romanovitch, the force of the word ‘suffering’ among some of these people! It’s not a question of suffering for someone’s benefit, but simply, ‘one must suffer.’ If they suffer at the hands of the authorities, so much the better.

"In my time there was a very meek and mild prisoner who spent a whole year in prison always reading his Bible on the stove at night and he read himself crazy, and so crazy, do you know, that one day, apropos of nothing, he seized a brick and flung it at the governor; though he had done him no harm. And the way he threw it too: aimed it a yard on one side on purpose, for fear of hurting him. Well, we know what happens to a prisoner who assaults an officer with a weapon. So 'he took his suffering.'

"So I suspect now that Nikolay wants to take his suffering or something of the sort. I know it for certain from facts, indeed. Only he doesn’t know that I know. What, you don’t admit that there are such fantastic people among the peasants? Lots of them....

[Porfiry Petrovitch goes on to articulate all the holes and contradictions in Nikolay's strange fabricated 'confession,' showing clearly that the house painter couldn't have been the murderer. Rather, Nikolay was a religious enthusiast who wanted to 'take his suffering.']

"No, Rodion Romanovitch, Nikolay doesn’t come in! This is a fantastic, gloomy business, a modern case, an incident of today when the heart of man is troubled, when the phrase is quoted that blood 'renews,' when comfort is preached as the aim of life. Here we have bookish dreams, a heart unhinged by theories.

"Here we see resolution in the first stage, but resolution of a special kind: he resolved to do it like jumping over a precipice or from a bell tower and his legs shook as he went to the crime. He forgot to shut the door after him, and murdered two people for a theory. He committed the murder and couldn’t take the money, and what he did manage to snatch up he hid under a stone.

"It wasn’t enough for him to suffer agony behind the door while they battered at the door and rung the bell, no, he had to go to the empty lodging, half delirious, to recall the bell-ringing, he wanted to feel the cold shiver over again…. Well, that we grant, was through illness, but consider this: he is a murderer, but looks upon himself as an honest man, despises others, poses as injured innocence. No, that’s not the work of a Nikolay, my dear Rodion Romanovitch!"

All that had been said before had sounded so like a recantation that these words were too great a shock. Raskolnikov shuddered as though he had been stabbed.

"Then… who then… is the murderer?" he asked in a breathless voice, unable to restrain himself.

Porfiry Petrovitch sank back in his chair, as though he were amazed at the question.

"Who is the murderer?" he repeated, as though unable to believe his ears. "Why, you, Rodion Romanovitch! You are the murderer," he added, almost in a whisper, in a voice of genuine conviction.

Raskolnikov leapt from the sofa, stood up for a few seconds and sat down again without uttering a word. His face twitched convulsively.

"Your lip is twitching just as it did before," Porfiry Petrovitch observed almost sympathetically. "You’ve been misunderstanding me, I think, Rodion Romanovitch," he added after a brief pause, "that’s why you are so surprised. I came on purpose to tell you everything and deal openly with you."

"It was not I murdered her," Raskolnikov whispered like a frightened child caught in the act.

"No, it was you, you Rodion Romanovitch, and no one else," Porfiry whispered sternly, with conviction.

................................................................................................................

I have read Crime and Punishment many times (more than I can count). The first time I read it was my Senior year of High School. I was 18 years old and going through my own crisis of growing up and faith and pride and (I now realize) mental illness. It left me with a vivid impression, one that seems exaggerated and strange and extreme, certainly, but which was not entirely lacking in truth, at least in the sense that poetry can communicate something of the great and awful mystery of things.

All I can say is that when I finished the book, I said to myself, "I am the murderer!"

I could not escape the powerful impression that I had just looked into a mirror and had seen my own sins, my own guilt, my own inescapable need for "all of it" to come out into the open, and for me to embark upon a path of humility, conversion, and penance.

"I am guilty! Mine is the sin! I am the murderer!"

But along with this dreadful impression, there was something else that struck me, something that was more powerful even though it felt more remote at the time: the possibility of forgiveness. Hope.

For I knew that I would not be making this journey alone.

Turn and Be Converted From All Your Crimes

"Turn and be converted from all your crimes,
that they may be no cause of guilt for you.
Cast away from you all the crimes you have committed,
and make for yourselves a new heart and a new spirit.
Why should you die, O house of Israel?
For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone who dies,
says the Lord God. Return and live!"
(Ezekiel 18:30-32).

The Lord says:
"Whom did you dread and fear,
that you told lies,
And me you did not remember
nor take to heart?
Am I to keep silent and conceal,
while you show no fear of me?
I will proclaim your justice
and your works;
but they shall not help you.
When you cry out,
let your collection of idols save you.
All these the wind shall carry off,
a mere breath shall bear them away;
But whoever takes refuge in me shall inherit the land,
and possess my holy mountain.
For thus says the high and lofty One,
the One who dwells forever, whose name is holy:
I dwell in a high and holy place,
but also with the contrite and lowly of spirit,
To revive the spirit of the lowly,
to revive the heart of the crushed"
(Isaiah 57:11-13, 15).

"A clean heart create for me, O God;
and a steadfast spirit renew within me"
(Psalm 51:12).

"Remember..." by JJ

What do I have here? Another poem? Something like that, I suppose.
I might be putting together lyrics for a song.

If anyone has any ideas about music for it, let me know.

[Text and design (c) 2018 by John Janaro, all rights reserved.]

"Remember..." by John Janaro

The Church Today: Is There Anyone We Can Trust?

Today has been a difficult day for many Catholic Christians in the USA. Above all it is difficult for those who have been reminded by yesterday's Pennsylvania Grand Jury Report of the sexual abuse and related sufferings they have endured at the hands of members of the Church's clergy and hierarchy.

The horror of it is staggering, unimaginable. The victims deserve justice. And they desperately need healing.

And we are all reminded once again that the treasure of Christ is held (as it always has been) in immensely fragile earthen vessels. Some remolding and purification can be sought through penance, humility, and prayer—not merely as appropriate external postures but above all as the expression of profound contrition (sorrow) that entails genuine conversion of hearts, an appropriate and concrete assumption of responsibility, and a real reparation for sin and its destructiveness. Thus we may hope that the dioceses that make up the Catholic Church in the USA can be shaped by God's infinite mercy into more faithful and trustworthy ecclesial realities.

But so many of us may find ourselves tempted by an oppressive anxiety that wants to draw us away from our hope in Jesus Christ, and to focus on ourselves and our own preoccupations. After all, who can we trust in the Church? Who will keep us focused on Him, and lead us to Him through this Church made up of people who are at least as sinful, ignorant, and cowardly as we are?

There are many doctrinal and theological ways to address these questions, but one approach has a unique personal richness. Indeed, it's interesting that these anxious questions about trust are relevant precisely to the person in the Church and the event of history that we celebrate today. Mary, the Mother of Jesus and our Mother, has been drawn up, "assumed" in her entire spiritual and bodily reality, into the Kingdom, the resurrected life, the beginning of the New Creation.

Mary, "Immaculate," without sin from the beginning. Mary, "Panagia," the All-Holy one. Mary, living in the fullness of glory, soul and body, with Jesus and entirely dependent on Him, and with the Church, in all the intimacy of her person as Virgin Mother of God.

And through the total embrace of her motherhood she is also present with each one of us, in the Church and beyond the Church—present with every human person.

Mary is really and truly our Mother.

We can too easily "forget" about Mary. Thank God, she is such a good mother that she never forgets about us. Her heart has an immense supernatural ardor for us, and immense wisdom to impart to us. And she has been gifted with the particular secret of who each of us is called to be.

It's very important, in these troubled times, for all of us to know that alongside Jesus there is one person in the Church who will never fail us.  It's especially important for those who have been wounded deeply by men entrusted with the ministry of the Gospel.

Mary is a real, living, glorified person, and—just as she was entirely free from the distortion of sin in her historical life—so also (and even more) her perfection is total, radical, and complete in her glorified life. She loves us and she is absolutely reliable, trustworthy, and mysteriously (but really) close to each one of us. We have all been entrusted to her care, and she will never let us down.

We need to draw closer to her. She brings Jesus and us together in all the impenetrable details of life. God was born of a woman, and then He gave that woman to us. She is our Mother.

Say it: "Mary is our mother. Mary is my mother. I am loved."

She is a good mother. Let's all just go to her and be children. Let's go to her especially with whatever wounds we have. Mary sees all our wounds inside the wounds of her Son (which doesn't take away from the fact that they are truly "our" wounds, our crippled emotions, our anxiety, our questions, our sufferings).

When all we see and feel around us are walls pressing in and our minds are spiraling down a bottomless hole, we can always cry out to her, cry the incomprehensible pain, cry from our hunger and need, cry like little babies.

She hears us.

Of course, Jesus never abandons us. Mary's love is entirely engendered by the supernatural sanctifying gift of Him who alone is Lord of the cosmos and history. Mary's motherhood is the fruit of Jesus's love—for her and for each of us.

Jesus accompanies us with Mary and through Mary, so that her maternal tenderness can reach us even in the darkest places. Mary's motherhood, with its special quality that makes human space for the nurturing of every person in his or her uniqueness, finds us as orphans and makes us anew as brothers and sisters of Jesus.

Everything begins with Mary: reform in the Church, reform of our hearts, conversion, reparation, forgiveness, healing, freedom from addictions, freedom from the endless spiral of sexual abuse and all forms of violence, freedom from sin, freedom to be persons living in communion with God and with one another. Everything begins with Mary! She is that "lowly servant" of the Lord who always says "yes" to Him. She proclaims Him as the One who "lifts up the poor" and "fills the hungry with good things."

The poor and the hungry have always sought her. We too, in the technologically sophisticated, materially rich American church of 2018, must acknowledge that we are desperately poor and hungry. We must recognize that we are her children, and we must cry out to her in our need.

For many centuries, this cry has taken an especially efficacious form as a prayer inspired by the Gospel of Luke. We need to learn how to say these words anew with childlike trust and boundless hope:

Hail Mary, full of grace.
The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women.
And blessed is the fruit of thy womb,
Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us, sinners,
now and at the hour of our death.

When we are lost, hurt, alone, violated, betrayed, ignored, or trapped in some other impossible way, Mary takes us in her arms—arms that we can trust—and carries us. She doesn't necessarily "solve" all the complicated aspects of our problems (not right away, at least).

But she carries us and cares for us with a gentle, attentive, strong solicitude. She loves us in our brokenness, wherever we are, and she takes us into her healing ways, her measure of time, and her patience.

She will teach us how to walk and how to grow strong with the strength that comes from knowing that we are loved, and that we do not need to be afraid.

Mary, merciful and loving Mother, help us!

For Maximilian Kolbe: An Old Poem By a Young Man

This is a poem I wrote nearly 30 years ago, to commemorate the great love of Saint Maximilian Kolbe. He offered his own life in exchange for another prisoner in a reprisal execution in Auschwitz, and died in the "starvation bunker" on August 14, 1941.

August 14th

I am the guardian

unworthy

of the flesh and blood that I command.

I stand

extended

from world's edge to windowless walls,

the quarry-block place markers 

around my becoming-all-things.

I am a mother's graceful, sweet breath

dissolving

like fine, penetrating mist

against your broken, burned skin.

I am the witness

stepping out of place

away

beyond the trembling assembly 

of bony finger-clutched this-moment,

toward the timeless returning unto dust of you

and you

and you.

Forward!

step forward...

                           ...out of place

for I am

your sacrifice.

—August 14, 1989

Things That Are 'Brewing'

As my wild partying Summer continues, Eileen and I got over to the (relatively) new Front Royal Brewery on Main Street for a meal and some live music and—of course—some true local brew.😉🍺
.

.
This is the Milk Stout, which has a nice distinctive flavor. If you're like me and want your Stouts to hammer your taste buds with that precise booyah! flavor that "most-people-DON'T-LIKE," you might miss the delightful subtleties of this smooth but distinguished beer. Give it a chance!🎵🍻

Hey Y'all, August is Still Summer!

Here's my annual "Rant"—which is comic really, because I know this is just the way it is, and we've been doing it every year, and I also did this routine for years as a teacher, so...😉😉

🌅...BUT STILL, it's 90-sumthin degrees in the early part of💧💥LANGUID DOG-DAY AUGUST💥💧and we're all running here and there getting ready for... SCHOOL?🍁📚✏

Seriously??😨

"Dear America, this is just... strange. Shorten the school year, or something. It's still Summer.🏄⛳🏊💤Is there anybody (students, teachers, admins, bureaucrats) who WOULD NOT WANT more vacation?🌻There's got to be a better way!"

Can't we all just take August off and go to the beach?🌴😎 #InMyDreams

The Abyss of These Days

        Silhouette of Christina Grimmie (1994-2016). Still frame from video for Stay With Me.

The Abyss of These Days

Another of these days has come.
Regular like moons they come
to mark the margin at the edge
where time plunges into a sudden gaping abyss.
It is the end, the unknown;
the implacable, all-consuming fire;
or something else,
beyond the abyss of these days.

All around me are sights and sounds,
glowing icons of life. They hold
eyes, breath, hanging hair,
swift fingers, a voice
all gathered to intense focus
by agile awareness of mind and heart, as if
a new world is about to be created.

All held in glowing visions.
Are they dreams or beginnings?

When these marked days dawn,
my ears awaken to ringing bells.
Such song as I have never known,
as though I could fly and soar on the drafts of its resonant air.

But then, a swift thunder cracks the whole sky open,
and in the oxygen-abandoned atmosphere a silence falls.
It carries me down,
and buries me in its dark soil...
a silence full of memory.
An aching silence of waiting.

And I am made deaf by stark silence boring holes through my head.
I am losing my mind in these days, these centuries,
these aeons of waiting in cold black earth without a sound.

These days are so long that I forget what I am waiting for.

But your face...I remember your face, your singular face.
I cannot forget the face that made me feel the shape of my own soul.
That face stirs a sweet fierce pain inside me,
a force deeper in me than my own life
that squeezes my heart inside my chest.

And I remember that I am only fragments of myself
waiting to be put together,
waiting for eyes that can see your face,
waiting to dance and sing in the bright fires
beyond the abyss of these days.

Edith Stein and the "Here-and-Now" of Salvation

On August 9 we remember Edith Stein, twentieth century philosopher who journeyed from her Jewish roots through atheism to the encounter with Jesus Christ in His Church that proved decisive for her life.

In the Carmelite monastery, as Sister Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, she became a theologian, a mystic, and above all a great lover of God.

In Auschwitz, on August 9, 1942, she became a martyr out of love for Jesus and in solidarity with her own people, and His.

For all her extraordinary heroism, Edith Stein knew that the fundamental transformation and renewal of life in Jesus Christ is a mystery inserted into our ordinary daily lives:

Dolores O'Riordan and the Pope: A Striking Moment

Various YouTube channels devoted to The Cranberries have uploaded some fascinating and often previously unknown videos in recent months, as an ongoing tribute to Dolores O'Riordan, the late lead singer of the famous Irish music group who died at the beginning of this year.

I just watched a short clip of Dolores and her family meeting Pope John Paul II (from JPII's condition, I'd estimate this took place in the early 2000s). The video looks like it was originally broadcast on Irish television news. The picture above on the left is a screenshot I took from the video—a "still image" that vividly portrays the very brief but striking moment when they were face to face.

The glance they shared is scarcely noticeable in the continuous stream of the video. But as I see it here in the "paused half-second" of a picture, it moves me to pray more ardently for the eternal rest of her poor soul.

Dear Dolores! Whatever brought your troubled life to an end, I hope that in those last moments you remembered the love of the God who knows all your suffering, weakness, failures, mental disorders, addictions, whatever difficulty. I hope you found peace in the forgiving embrace of that Love.

The video, only 30 seconds long, can be found here: VIDEO

"Rose Study, Number 4"

Rose Study, Number 4 .

The Firm Foundation of Every Thing

The Collect prayer for the current liturgical week is especially rich.

It is an abundant source for meditation on our life in this world and its relation to the One who has made us for Himself.

The good things of this world pass away. They cannot fulfill us if we try to possess them and dominate them by our own power. But we can "use" these good things rightly as signs of the wisdom and love of God, as gifts from God that lead us to Him.

Every taste of goodness, every authentic value, every beauty has its source in Him and finds its enduring fulfillment in Him. Without Him nothing has firm foundation, and only in relation to Him do things communicate their real meaning. The truth of all things reminds us of our destiny.

O God, protector of those who hope in you,
without whom nothing has firm foundation,

nothing is holy,
bestow in abundance your mercy upon us
and grant that, with you as our ruler and guide,
we may use the good things that pass
in such a way as to hold fast even now
to those that ever endure.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you

in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.

The Path of Conversion and Healing

The life of faith is a struggle, an ongoing task, an experience of learning to love in a true, Christian way.

It grows from a renewed encounter with Christ into a fuller and more thorough conversion away from the tendency of selfishness and toward the cultivated dispositions of sincere self-giving.

The Holy Spirit works within us to heal us (each according to our own history, circumstances, and unique personal vocation), to free us from ways of "loving" that are stunted by the ambivalence of our wounded humanity, by our selfish tendency to reduce other persons to mere "things," by our craving to amplify and impose on reality our distorted perceptions of self and others.

The Christian life is a path of conversion from an egocentric posture to an ever deepening habit of authentic charity--an attitude of mind and heart that truly loves God as He is in Himself, and that truly loves other persons for who they are in themselves, i.e. children of God and brothers and sisters redeemed by Jesus and called to share in His inheritance.

Our Christian vocation takes concrete shape in the Lord's call of love, addressed to us each day, which draws us into communion with Him in silence and prayer, in adoration, thanksgiving, and hope in His mercy. The same call of love permeates all aspects of our lives and human relationships: in our families, in work and social environments, in various responsibilities, in the joys of life, in play, in the beauty of things.

God shapes our lives in such a way as to draw us along the path of loving Him and loving others. Our sufferings, too, are permitted and find their "place" within this particular plan of healing and transforming love that our Father has for each of us as unique persons, embraced in His infinite wisdom.

In answering the call of the vocation to charity, we must have great trust in Jesus our Savior, for without Him we can do nothing. But He is with us, working in our lives and teaching us through His Spirit how to grow in genuine self-giving love.

We must not become discouraged by the apparent persistence of our imperfections, selfish tendencies, and fragility, but continue to work toward cooperating with God's grace and moving forward on the path of love that He opens in front of us.

How Much God Loved Humanity

In His unfathomable love for us, God reveals the mystery that He Himself is Love.

In the words of a great Father of the Church: "Anyone can grant favors, anyone can bestow gifts, any prosperous benefactor can love those who are deferential to him; but will he be comparable to Him who took the adversities of His own people onto Himself; who puts Himself forward to block dangers threatening His own; who hands Himself over to punishments for His own, who confronts death face-to-face in order to remove them from destruction and preserve them for life? Love is proved by adversities, the weight of affection is determined by the dangers endured, perfect charity is confirmed by death.... That dominion is true which commands by love, not by fear; which subjects both bodies and hearts to itself by means of affection; which by loving furnishes servants for itself who are not unwilling, but willing. [Jesus died because] He wanted it to be known how much God loved humanity, since He wanted to be loved rather than feared" (Saint Peter "Chrysologus" Archbishop of Ravenna [Fifth Century], feast day July 30th).

"Bear With One Another Through Love..."

"Live in a manner worthy of the call you have received,
with all humility and gentleness, with patience,
bearing with one another through love,
striving to preserve the unity of the spirit

through the bond of peace:
one body and one Spirit,
as you were also called to the one hope of your call;
one Lord, one faith, one baptism;
one God and Father of all,
who is over all and through all and in all."

~Ephesians 4:1-6

Evanescence and Lindsey Stirling: A Synthesis of Music

"Abstract-painting stylizing" of a bad photo. Lindsey Stirling and Amy Lee "killing it"!

We had a splendid experience this week.

John Paul, Agnese, and I attended a big concert with about 20,000 other people in Northern Virginia on Tuesday night.

Though I love music, I don't get to many concerts these days, certainly not as many as I would like. Outside of the Appaloosa Festival, I hadn't been to a large venue in a long time.

The lineup for this show, however, was extraordinary. The incredibly creative Amy Lee with Evanescence was on the bill, with their rock-classical-music-fusion project called Synthesis that has been touring for almost a year in collaboration with local orchestras throughout the world.

Then there was Lindsey Stirling. I don't even need to tell you who she is, or why I would want to see this YouTube superstar's famous electronic violin-and-dance show. This time, she would also have the orchestra.

Two full shows, one after the other, with some music together as well. "I don't think I could make it through all that," I thought. Unfortunately, with my unreliable health, I have to look at things this way. If I'm not realistic, I'll have to pay the price, and sometimes its more than I or my family can bear.

This gives you an idea of the layout. We
weren't close but it didn't matter. We had
seats and we were dry. Famous cellist
Dave Eggar and drummer Chuck Palmer
were the "opener" and they were great too.

But the shaky fancam video clips people posted from the first combo shows at the beginning of July really impressed me. As the Virginia date drew near, I wondered, "Can I do this? But how?"

If I pace myself I can do big activities here and there... I knew this would take a lot out of me, but it wasn't impossible. Still, what clinched it for me was having these terrific adult children who wanted to bring me to this concert. All the driving-parking business taken care of, no worries for me.

So, we did it!

The best thing was that we had a great time together! Eileen and the other kids weren't really interested, and I don't know if they would have liked it. But for John Paul, Agnese, and me, it was perfect.

We had a blast. It was a memorable time together.

It was also one of the most outstanding concerts I have ever seen. It exceeded my expectations. It was stunning, beautiful, awesome, loud, three hours long... it was almost too much, but it didn't cross the line (it certainly didn't cross our line).

Lindsey Stirling's set was terrific, of course, but it was more than anything she's done before.

There were huge digital panels beaming a brilliant variety of coordinated video imagery, added to the choreography and the usual rivers of intensive music from Lindsey's plugged-in violin and the orchestral accompaniment. It was breathtaking. It's hard to believe that this tour is Lindsey's first time performing with an orchestra. There was an excellent interplay between the glowing bright riffs of her electronic violin and the classical richness of orchestral music. It all worked amazingly well. It was remarkable. Really, I have never seen anything quite like it on a stage before.

The whole evening was great. Words, pictures, or videos can't convey what happened. So much talent and hard work on so many levels came together in such an outstanding way.

Evanescence, Synthesis. I have meaning to write about this album and now I have to, after seeing it so powerfully presented. It's a larger sound, with more dramatic intensity as well as a whole spectrum of nuance. But it also still rocks.

I am so WIPED OUT, but for a good reason. Right now I'm trying to recuperate. I pushed myself on Tuesday night (and I'm glad I did). I'm exhausted, but it was a wonderful time. It was a great time with my kids. And the artist/musician/media-nerd in me was blown away. I have lots of reflections about the whole thing still in my head, and I am only beginning to ponder them. I can't write much about it yet.

(Of course, with me, everything gets "pondered." I share what I can, when I can, with anyone who might be interested.)

First, I just want to give a shout out to the extraordinary Amy Lee, who brought all these talented people together. She has come a long way from that spooky-looking kid on the cover of their first album in 2003. That kid had a lot of dreams. She has long been underestimated as an artist, a composer, a creative genius.

There were no doubts about any of that on Tuesday night. She nailed all of her own rich melodic songs, her evocative voice working beautifully with the orchestra, bringing out all those signature tones that only Amy Lee's voice can produce. And she played the piano beautifully, and basically just owned the stage. It was a command performance.

I didn't get any good pictures, but I have assembled a collage of a few poor ones (along with a screenshot at the bottom from a 2017 video where she first explained the project) in appreciation for the great lady behind this whole unique musical enterprise.

Amy Lee, you keep getting more amazing and more accomplished! I do believe the best is yet to come.✨

I hope that this is the first of many collaborations between these two Queens of Music. In the much better, official-ish pictures below (credit to the owners—Amy's pic is from the Evanescence website) it might look like their complementarity is as simple as a harmonious contrast between "somber" and "bright," or "melancholy" and "cheerful."

But that would be an over-simplification. Amy Lee's art has always been more like a light in the darkness. Precisely through her music she refuses to brood on sorrow, but endures and struggles to overcome it, and reaches out in hope of being rescued from it.

Lindsey Stirling's art is also a light in a different context: it is a light that shines bravely, that refuses to be snuffed out by the darkness that is always fighting against it.

Even here, I am over-simplifying it, but perhaps I'm moving a little closer to why these shows—even beyond their displays of musical virtuosity and high-tech "virtual fireworks"—have been such happy events.

These are two courageous women, who have persevered in their artistic vision against the trends (and against those in the "music business" who try to turn artists into slaves of perceived trends and dependable financial profits).

An orchestra plays surrounded by the light show.

These two women have succeeded in contemporary music without compromising their integrity. They have done it by staying focused, by patience, hard work, and finding collaborators who share their vision and who also contribute to it in countless ways. They also continue to grow and develop, to try new things, to take risks (the most recent of which is this huge 31 city tour, with a different orchestra in each city).

What I saw Tuesday night was the gathering together of vast resources, talents, energies, and technology with all its glitter and power and wildness and strangeness. All of this was dedicated to an effort to make something beautiful, and true, and good, from all the stuff and complexity of contemporary life.

They succeeded. But human arts never attain absolute perfection. A true artist remains "restless," and thereby continues to be creative.

I can't wait to hear (and see) what they'll do next.🎵😊

"I Will Give You Rest..."

Jesus said:
"Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened,
and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,
for I am meek and humble of heart;
and you will find rest for yourselves.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden light."
(Matthew 11:28-30).

Staying With Others in the Poverty of Our Own Hearts

Our commitment to loving one another and living in communion faces many challenges. We must learn that real love means staying with other persons before, above, and beyond our capacity to fix their problems, relieve their sufferings, or accomplish anything that seems "useful" for them.

The fundamental and ultimate reason for companionship with another person is the fact that every human person—simply by virtue of being a person—deserves to be loved. This love affirms the value of the person in his or her very existence.

Often we focus so much on "what we can do" that we tend (even if only subconsciously) to distance ourselves from people when we can't do anything to make them better or help them in some perceiveable way.

Why is it so hard to just stay with people and "suffer-with" them?

Perhaps part of it is the fact that suffering unveils something of the mystery of the essential, underlying need at the core of the person. All our necessary and worthwhile efforts to relieve suffering and improve people's lives eventually reach their limit. The life of this world, of time and space, is limited by its nature.

But the human person is not satisfied by these limits. This is why human suffering is ultimately so dramatic, inscrutable, and ... terrifying!

Human suffering is personal. For the person we accompany in solidarity, there is always that dimension of suffering that is a "cry" addressed to the Mystery, that expresses the aching of the need for the infinite that also burns within our own hearts.

In its utterly personal and particular depth, suffering reveals that we cannot satisfy or fulfill one another or ourselves by our own power. We cannot resolve our own mystery; indeed we experience ourselves as frustrated and incapacitated even as we continue to hope for something beyond ourselves, beyond the whole universe.

The irresolvable dimension of human suffering is both strange and familiar to us. We want to be present with the suffering person to the end. Yet it is only natural that we experience a very intense emotion of fear—a fear not only for those we accompany, but also for ourselves.

We are afraid of our own vulnerability and helplessness that is exposed when we live the awful solidarity with another person in their disability and pain, when we must be impacted and struck by it without any real or imagined defenses. We must not be overcome by this fear. We must not give in to discouragement.

They are helpless and all we can do is be helpless with them.

We can "cry out" together with them, from the poverty of our own hearts, for the answer to the mystery of our own being.

Apparently meaningless suffering cannot be the final word on life. How can it be possible for the unique human person—infinite in their desire and persistent in their search—to be crushed in the end?

How can "I" be crushed...?

If we accept being crushed, we deny our humanity. There has to be something more! Our most desperate cries in the greatest of our pains can still be cries for help to the One who made us, who sustains us in being, and who calls us to fulfillment in freedom and love, to happiness.

We have not been made for nothing! We have not been made to be negated by life. Even if we think we deserve it, we must not lose hope.

No matter where we are in life's journey, no matter how much we already know, we need to follow the Ultimate Mystery that calls us beyond our own limits, that helps us if we ask with trust even in the midst of all the strangeness of whatever we're going through.

Salvation never comes in exactly the way we "expect." It's like the arrival of someone we know well, but who we feel like we are meeting all over again "for the first time."

Salvation is always surprising, always entering in as a new reality, an unexpected encounter that convinces us that we are loved more that we can ever imagine.