Heather took me to see her friends sing in the Festival Chorale Oregon at St. Mary Church in Mt. Angel. It always amazes me that some people have the ability to produce such beautiful music simply with their voices. The orchestra was beautiful too. Such music as a cultural attraction is becoming lost. They sang "Stabat Mater" by Antonin Dvorak. They sang it in Latin, but there was a translation in the program:

A mother stood grief-stricken,

by the cross, weeping,

while her son was hanging there.

As she shared in His sorrow

And grieved, a sword

Pierced her groaning heart.

O how sorrowful and afflicted

was that blessed woman,

the mother of the only-begotten One.

Devoted mother, who mourned

and grieved while she saw ,

who trembled,

seeing the punishment of her glorious Son.

Who is the man who would not weep

if he saw the mother of Christ

in such torment?

Who would not share in the sorrow,

were he to contemplate

the mother of Christ grieving for her Son?

She saw Jesus in agony

and subjected to whips

for the sins of His nation.

She saw her sweet child

desolate in His dying moments,

as His spirit slipped away.

Alas, mother, fountain of love,

let me feel the force of your grief,

so that I may bemoan with you.

Let my heart burn

with love of Christ our Lord

so that I may please Him.

Holy Mother, do just that,

let the blows of the crucified One

drive strongly into my heart.

Share with me the punishment

of your wounded son

who suffered so worthily for me.

Let me truly weep with you,

grieve with you for Him, crucified,

for as long as I live.

I long to stand by the cross with you,

gladly keeping company

with you in your lamentation.

Virgin, most noble of virgins,

do not now be bitter towards me,

let me lament with you.

Let me bear Christ's death,

let me share in His sufferings

and receive the blows.

Let me be wounded by the lashes,

intoxicated by that cross,

through love of your Son.

Blazing and scorched,

may I be protected by you Virgin,

on the day of judgement.

Let me be guided by the cross,

defended by the death of Christ,

fostered by grace.

When my body has died,

let it be that the glory of paradise

is granted to my soul. Amen.

Without the translation, one would never know that every movement was repeated several times because each time it was repeated it was sung differently.

The word picture causes sorrow for the grief of a mother who saw her son beaten and killed in the most gruesome way. The word picture of Jesus' crucifixion should also cause grief and a reminder of what Christ suffered for us. But it is also a reminder that Christ suffered for us so that we don't have to.

There are several stanzas that struck me as a heart-felt prayer. But then I realized that the entire song is a prayer to Mary. The deity of Mary is one of the biggest issues that I have with Catholicism. But as a prayer, one could redirect the words to God: Let my heart burn with love of Christ our Lord so that I may please Him. Let me be guided by the cross, defended by the death of Christ, fostered by grace.