Last Week Was Busy

It's been a long time since I posted to this blog. In my defense, I did post to my music blog and to In Memory of Razz on his anniversary. There are also extra services I go to on the days leading up to Easter. Then last week turned out to be fairly busy too.

Monday was routine, but on Tuesday I went to a Boston Symphony concert. I had a ticket for Holy Thursday, but I always go to the Mass that evening, so I exchanged the ticket for one for the Tuesday concert. The program actually included a couple of things I had heard back on February 28, with a different piece in the middle. Since neither of the repeats were things I was very familiar with (one was completely new to me), I was glad to be able to hear them again and get a bit more familiar with them. Hearing something for the first time can be an amazing experience, but hearing it again can deepen your understanding — you notice things you didn't notice the first time; you get more of a feel for how it works overall.

The next two evenings also involved trips into Boston — to see plays. On Wednesday it was "Neva" at Arts Emerson. It's a translation of a play by Chile's greatest living playwright (according to the playbill), Guillermo Calderón. He was also the director. A preview in the Boston Globe a couple of days before it opened in Boston describes it like this:

As the audience settles in, a woman dressed in mournful black paces slowly along the wall at the back of the stage. She is, we will discover, the great Russian actress Olga Knipper, widow of Anton Chekhov. It is six months after his death, and she is in a St. Petersburg rehearsal room, waiting for the rest of the company.

The play is Guillermo Calderón’s “Neva,” and it is set on Bloody Sunday, 1905, the day scores of peacefully protesting workers were massacred by government forces on their way to the city’s Winter Palace, where they’d sought to deliver a message to the czar. Only two of Olga’s colleagues arrive at rehearsal that afternoon: an actor, Aleko, and an actress, Masha. In the darkened room, the three of them attend to their craft, insulated from the violence unfolding in the streets.

I was looking forward to it, to the insights it would give. There were some startling moments, when the characters played out little dramas which seemed "real" only to disclose to one another that they had been acting, but overall I was disappointed. It seemed to be very self-absorbed on the author's part. He's reflecting, as a man of the theater, on the place of theater in the troubles of the real world; but ultimately the reflection seems pointless. The post-opening review, which is headlined "'Neva' an overwrought, overwritten drama," pretty well tells how I felt about it.

Thursday's play was the classic "A Raisin in the Sun," about a post-WWII black family in Southside Chicago hoping to improve their condition. I was much happier with that one. Once more, the Globe's review captures much of how I feel about it. The picture with the review shows the "silent figure" whom the reviewer mentions. He's the one in the background. Since there's no risk now of spoiling anything (the production has closed), I'll say it's Big Walter, the recently deceased husband and father of the main characters. He never speaks, and no one sees him, but putting him on stage makes his son's speech about the family's heritage and pride that much more meaningful.

Then on Friday, instead of going to the concert and social evening at the Harvard Musical Association, I began a spiritual retreat which ran through Sunday morning. It was for men, and it was conducted by a Xaverian brother. Unlike the previous retreats I went on — eight days, with an individual director for each retreatant and a focus on the individual — this one consisted of five hour-long talks to the group by the director. His topic was the Virgin Mary, and he began by describing what life would have been like for her as an ordinary woman from a very small town in 1st Century Israel. Then he went through various events in the scriptures — annunciation, birth of Jesus, Jesus lost in the Temple, miracle of wine at the wedding in Cana, crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus — giving insight into how it would have been for her and suggesting how she dealt with things could serve as a model for people today. One particularly striking part was when he analyzed the "Magnificat"(Luke 1:46-55)  as a revolutionary song — particularly verses 51-53:

He has shown the strength of his arm, he has scattered the proud in their conceit.

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly.

He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.

So, it wasn't nearly so introspective as my two earlier retreats, but it did give some food for thought.

Now I'm getting caught up. This week won't have so much evening activity, just the HMA on Friday (unless I do something spur-of-the-moment), so I should have time for another installment on the Theology of the Body.

Month's Mind

It used to be customary in the Catholic Church to offer a Mass for someone who had died 30 days after the death or the funeral (called a "Month's Mind), 90 days after, and a year after. I understand there is something similar in Jewish practice, at least as far as the month and the "Jahrzeit" (sorry, I don't know the Yiddish spelling).

So for Chris's Month's Mind, here's a prayer from the Catholic funeral liturgy. Lord God, source and destiny of our lives, in your loving providence you gave us Chris to grow in wisdom, age, and grace. Now you have called him to yourself. As we grieve over the loss of one so young, we seek to understand your purpose. Draw him to yourself and give him full stature in Christ. May he stand with all the angels and saints, who know your love and praise your saving will. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.

In Memoriam: Razz

Chris, whom we knew as Razz, was utterly charming. Many of you have posted very movingly of how he touched you and how much he meant to you. Many of you were closer to him than I was, although I always admired his big-heartedness and looked forward to reading his posts. But I thought he had a curious sense of privacy. Some of the posts which gave the clearest insight into the caring side of his personality got taken down, while those that showed the more fun-loving side were left up. My three strongest memories are no longer there.

First was the account of taking Jay out for coffee. After the breakup with Dave, Chris was reluctant to enter into another relationship, and Jay was really sad because of it. Chris suggested they go for coffee, and at one point he said to Jay something like, "So how are you enjoying our first date?" Needless to say, Jay was ecstatic.

Then there was the day Ste and Cate arrived, unannounced, at the university in America, and Chris arrived to find them waiting at his door. His absolute and simple joy at their visit shone through his post about it.

And above all there was the story of how his friendship with Ste began. They were very young schoolboys (maybe second grade) who got into a fight. Chris wanted to apologize and followed Ste home, but Ste was having none of it. So he sat on the sidewalk outside Ste's house all afternoon until suppertime, when Ste's mum invited him in for dinner. And they made up and became friends for ever.

I believe the scripture which says, "God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God and God in him." (1 John 4:16) It is clear that Chris lived in the love of his wonderful family and friends and that in turn he gave much love to them. Surely it was the love he experienced in his family that taught him to reach out in love to ask Ste's forgiveness, to introduce himself at the age of six to people on Brighton Beach, and to form such deep friendships throughout his life — or as it says in his post "My life has been perfect"

dance

like no one's watching you

sing

like no one can hear you

love

like you've never been hurt before

live

like it's heaven here on earth.

I also believe in a life beyond our earthly existence; and the love in which Chris lived here gives me much hope that he will now enjoy a life where there is no pain or illness, where love and joy endure for ever, and where all who love him can be with him at last.

My heartfelt condolences go out to his loving family, to Steven, and to all his friends, new and old. May his memory be a joy and may faith and hope ease the sorrow of your loss.

Razz

I got an e-mail from Razz's friend Ste this evening. He writes as follows.

This is Steven (Ste).  I was Chris’s (Razz) childhood friend.  You may have read about me in his blog.  The reason I am writing is to let you know that he passed away three weeks ago on the 26th.  He died from complications with pneumonia, which quickly worsened in a few days.  His lungs were already weakened by the metastasis, and he didn’t have any strength left to fight it.  He died the evening of the 26th.  His family, Jay, myself, and my fiancée were with him during his last hours.

He goes on to tell of finding the post I had made about Razz through my comment on Mirrorboy's blog, and that he will tell Razz's parents of all the friends he had online. And he concludes with

A special request.  Would you mind letting someone named Niv know of the news.  I know that Chris chatted with him quite often online, but I cannot find his contact information in Chris’s blog.

I don't recognize the name Niv. If any of you do, please pass the word on to him. And would you please let me know so I can assure Ste that Niv has been informed.

Have You Heard from Razz …

since March 22. That was the last time he authorized a comment on his blog. I tried to post one a week or so ago, just saying I hoped he could let us know how he's doing, but he hasn't authorized it.

So I'm wondering how he's doing with the latest round of treatment. If anybody is at liberty to say anything, I'd like to know, and I'm sure other people would, too.