Tuesday, May 24, 2005

This is for Thomas of CT

Barbara Nicolosi of Church of the Masses is working on a script about the Carmelite Martyrs of Compiegne - nuns who offered themselves on the scaffold as a sacrifice to end the Reign of Terror in revolutionary France. If I'm correct, the terror stopped within days of their deaths. While they were mounting the scaffold, however, they started chanting the "Veni Creator". Barbara wonders what song we modern Catholics would sing if we were being led to our martyrs' deaths:

“Hey! That sounds stupid,” complains one martyr to be. Like the weeds that never die, the music minister still has a few minutes left to be patronizing, “God judges the heart, not the voice.”

Meanwhile, the lambs getting readied for the slaughter are getting scared. Somebody tries again, “How about Be Not Afraid? We all know that don’t we?” A bald-headed guy at the end of the line shakes his head. “We used the Gather hymnal at our Church.” The lady next to him nods, “We just added those. Now, we have the old Glory and Praises stacked in the pews because they both don’t fit in the hymnal racks.” The lady from the Diocese of Arlington sniffs, "We use the red Ritual hymnals."The thirty-something lady closest to the scaffold looks back at her fellow oblates with pleading, “Can’t we sing something, PLEASE?”

So, then, a voice somewhere in the middle of the crowd starts a high-pitched wail, "And I will RAY-HAY zhim up…."And the others join in, screeching and straining, "And I will RAY-HAY zhim up…."

An overweight, gray-haired lady in sensible shoes, and soon to be a martyr, makes a face, “I’m not going to die singing sexist language!”And the other, weary martyrs nod, and then, continue with submission,”And I will RAY-HAYZ YOU uh-up on the lah-hast day.”

And then, as we start to sing the refrain again, the persecutors will shoot us all down on the spot for our horrible music. And this will wreak havoc with our beatification processes, because it won’t be clear if we died for Jesus, or to spare our persecutors having to listen to our dreadful music.