Berlin, Stegliz, Saturday morning

Ion Ivanovici (1845–1902, born in Temesvár/Timișoara, Serbian bandmaster of a Romanian military band): The Waves of Danube, in the Hungarian version by Pál Szécsi: A single bluebell

How can one pay attention to anything else besides Him

 Contemplative orders prescribe to all their members, from the youngest novice to the oldest monk as a basic exercise to stay always in the presence of God.

Thomas Merton complained a lot that he was unable to stay in the presence of God and do intellectual work at the same time.

I think Merton never was really in love.

When one is deeply in love, then after going home from an encounter and beginning to take care of his own job, he does not continuously think about his love, but does his job. Nevertheless, love completely fills him. He does not oscillate between love and work, but he is absolutely filled with love while working.

This is very similar to what happens to one who works in the presence of God: his will is focused on his love, while he carries out his work with his intellect

Game

At the terminus a Gypsy man and woman with three children stood next to me. They were around twenty-five or thirty year old. The features of the thin, small man were so tense and he was so painfully organized even in shorts as a mafioso in an Italian Neorealist movie. The woman was somewhat sloven, already a bit plump, but still girlish. They stood silent, embarrassed. The bus came. The man handed over the boys to the woman and was about to leave. The boys were clasping in their hands the little games they obviously got for the occasion. The woman, still clinging to the presence of the man, threatened them that if they will not be good, she would take their games away. The boys pulled themselves together a bit. – How long must be good? – asked one of them. – For a long time! – the woman replied without hesitation. The little boy looked at her, expecting to know for how long exactly. The woman thought for a moment. – All your life.

Sursum corda

dedicado a Wang Wei quien sabe

que también entre los pucheros anda

In one morning in the spring of 1977, in the high school „Margit Kaffka” – some decades earlier and later „Holy Margaret” – the teacher responsible for the mobilization of the Communist Youth Association went round the classes. He was inviting people for the folk dance instruction of the Torch Folk Ensemble in the afternoon.

The group was going to start a dance house on the model of the already popular Hungarian folk dance houses, where they were going to teach the dances of the Serbian, Croatian, Bulgarian, Greek and Macedonian ethnic minorities. They were going round the high schools of Budapest for recruiting participants.

Our school was visited by the wife of the ensemble’s leader Antal Kricskovics. She was an extraordinary beauty. Apart from her really exceptional appearance, she owed this also to her majestic bearing.

She arranged us in a circle and immediately started the instruction. We draw our stomach in, trust the chest out, press the shoulders down. Our back is tight, but the hip and the limbs move easily and flexibly.

If you do all this, you immediately begin to breathe with full lungs. This was not customary in those times. The majority of Hungarian society compromised with the political system. People sought after momentary survival, small advantages, permitted little joys. They went about humped, they took shallow, gasping breaths.

After we clarified the necessary bearing, she taught us the song “Makedonsko devoiche”, and then she started to teach the steps. Not only the bearing was majestic, but the song and the steps as well.

Now as I’m writing this, I look over what sorts of music were available at that time. And I see that almost exclusively those that matched a convulsively disciplined and limited, sentimental and sensual taste of the petty bourgeoisie. Those which, even if they touched something majestic, only did so in order to pull it down to this vulgarity. “Goodbye, my sweet Piroska, there are even more beautiful girls than you.” Two steps to the right, two steps to the left. The musical indoctrinations of compromise, momentary survival, small advantages and permitted little joys.

At that time I did not know anything about the subtle and intricate rhythmic structures of Balkan and Greek music, neither that I was encountering a tradition that had been preserved since the ancient Greeks. There was no live music, not even a tape recorder, only ten or fifteen teenager girls coming together by chance and singing “Makedonsko devoiche” – and my heart rose up.

And that dance… Ten years later, on a warm summertime Sunday afternoon the wandering tambura-player arrived in the small Southern Hungarian village, at that time already inhabited only by Gypsies. He played kolo for some pennies. Immediately a great flock gathered around him, and everyone was watching him with great yearning. The man who counted as a chief came out from his hovel, accompanied by his two wives. None of the two was older than thirty, but they were already old women, tormented, bowed and emaciated. The man gave over the money with a theatrical gesture. One woman stood to his left and the other to his right. The music started. They began to dance the kolo, with a tight back, but with a loose hip, easily and flexibly. Their dance was characterized by a peculiar dignity, not canceling, but embracing their misery. Like the hand of the resurrected Christ the traces of the wounds.

At that time, in that spring afternoon of 1977 I did not know anything about Christ either. But as I pulled myself out and held on to the others, my heart rose up. I was touched by that peculiar dignity that cannot be canceled by any misery.

At the end of the instruction the wife of Kricskovics announced that the first dance house will be held in the House of Culture on Sunday afternoon. Of course I went there.

In the thereafter following two years I lived from Sunday to Sunday. I went to the dance house of Kricskovics like a believer goes to Mass. These dances let me, the atheist, experience the sacred through my own body.


In the lack of authentic folk music, let us listen to one of my favorite songs of those times: the “Highwayman Ilju”, a Macedonian-inspired poem by the great Hungarian poet László Nagy, performed by the old Kolinda group (1977!). I do not know what route took them to the point of perceiving and transmitting the transcendence inherent in this music – their singer Ágnes Zsigmondi, for example, was an offspring of the Communist political establishment just like me –, but I do not know any other musical group coming anywhere near to them. I think this was one of the reasons why they, while being highly successful in Western Europe, could not publish a single record in Hungary.


Kolinda, Ilju haramia (Highwayman Ilju), from the LP “Kolinda II”, 1977 (poem by László Nagy)

Hey how they’re gathering to go to war Hey how they are gathering The pagans of Kochan Mother, my sweet, the pagans of Kochan Hey how densely they are coming, my sweet Hey how densely they are coming To the wide water of Kriva Mother, my sweet, to the wide water of Kriva. Hey how they would like to put in irons Hey how they would like Highwayman Ilju Mother, my sweet, Highwayman Ilju. Hey but Ilju is not there, my sweet Hey Ilju is not there At the wide water of Kriva Mother, my sweet, at the wide water of Kriva. Hey Ilju is having a merry time, my sweet Hey he’s having a merry time In the city of Solun Mother, my sweet, in a good cool tavern. Hey he is served, my sweet Hey he is served By a beautiful Macedonian girl Mother, my sweet, by a beautiful Macedonian girl.

Hej de, gyűlnek hadba, édes, Hej de, gyűlnek hadba Kocsáni pogányok, Anyám édes, kocsáni pogányok. Hej de, sűrün jönnek, édes, Hej de, sűrün jönnek Széles Kríva vízhez, Anyám édes, széles Kríva vízhez. Hej de, vasra vernék, édes, Hej de, vasra vernék Ilju haramiát, Anyám édes, Ilju haramiát. Hej de, nincs ott Ilju, édes, Hej de, nincs ott Ilju, Széles Kríva víznél, Anyám édes, széles Kríva víznél. Hej de, vígad Ilju, édes, Hej de, vígad Ilju, Szolun városában, Anyám édes, jó hűvös ivóban. Hej de, néki szolgál, édes, Hej de, néki szolgál, Széplány, makedonka, Anyám édes, széplány, makedonka.

Now as I’m listening to it, this song even thirty years later asks me whether I’m living with a heart rose up enough. Perhaps I will write more about them.

Kerchiefs, kerchiefs, kerchiefs ...

in all quantities, sizes, shapes, colors. The very first thing one encounters when exiting the arrival hall of the Istanbul airport is the poster of the Armine fashion company showing a very pretty young woman with a kerchief. And from then on the whole city is full of little, small, huge and giant posters, and on the posters wonderful women with kerchiefs. And not only on the posters. By the time I arrived to the inner city, I was completely enthusiastic. Kerchiefs became a fashion in Istanbul.

Der makām-ı Şūri Semâ’i (Mss. D. Cantemir 256). Savall: Istanbul, 3'33"

Four years ago we set out from here to Persia where I was completely fascinated by what an incredibly sophisticated fashion can be pursued with the strictly regulated black chador. The kerchief costume of Istanbul, on the contrary, had not made any particular impression on me, and it did not seem to be very different from what is usual at us.


Now, however, it is immediately striking how many women wear a kerchief. Not only the elder and the poor, but also the young, the obviously affluent and highly educated women wear it in mass, from the veil covering even the eye to the highly artistic and extravagant compositions. And they seem to find a great joy in it

Among the young people it is undoubtedly the Armine company to determine the trend: discreet, subtle pastel tones and floral patterns, natural, soft materials. They do not sell only kerchiefs, but whole collections, dresses, accessories, everything harmonized with everything.

In addition, there are many, not only young people but also elder women who, taking full advantage of the wide range of possibilities, wear similarly sophisticated, but individually configured kerchief and dress compositions.


I guess I have never ever seen a fashion which would have showed in such a fabulous wealth and diversity in how many ways one can be pretty and feminine.

Why do I continue to have negative emotions, despite the fact that I pray for their disappearance?

 Many times we pray for the disappearance of our negative emotions, anxiety, fear and anger. God sometimes really helps in this. But not always. 1

Our emotions, just like our external senses (sight, hearing or sense of smell) have the task of showing us the external world, our feelings to and relationship with other people, so that we can act accordingly. Thus the negative emotions – similarly to the unpleasant sights, sounds and smells – are just as important as the positive ones, because negative emotions, similarly to negative impressions, always point to some danger. If during a journey we always looked at the beautiful sunset and did not see the abysses, we would never arrive at our goal.

Often this is the case with our emotions. In dangerous situations, our anxiety, fear and anger draws our attention to the danger.

A family wants to take out a very high loan which would burden them over their forces. Throughout the process of taking up the loan, the husband feels a very intense anxiety. He keeps praying for his anxiety to pass away, but it does not decrease. A middle-aged woman feels very strong anger toward her mother, who constantly wants to control and limit her. She asks God to free her from her anger, but it is not relieved.

The anxiety of the husband warns him the very serious danger that the loan is well above their forces. The anger of the middle-aged woman shows that in spite of her adult age she has not yet broken away from her mother, and has not yet formed her own life.
 

In such situations their request to let their negative emotions pass away is like when running toward the abyss we would ask God let us see only the beautiful sunset. In such cases we ask in fact that in a dangerous situation which we ought to solve, we should not do anything, and while we are heading for the disaster, we would even feel very well.

Therefore, if heading for the disaster is not what we want to do, then if God does not relieve our negative emotions, then we always should ask ourselves what is wrong in our lives, to which these negative feelings refer.

______________________________________________

1. I have already written that we often do not experience God healing us because while we ask Him for healing, we in fact want our injured desire of love to be fulfilled, and if God gave this to us, then He would not heal us but rather fix us in our injuries.

Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange - on his life and his works on the web

Reginald (Gontran-Marie) Garrigou-Lagrange was born in France in 1877 and died in Rome in 1964.

He started to study medicine at the university of Bordeaux, but in 1897, under the impact of his deep conversion, he left the university and entered the Dominican order.

From 1909 to 1959 he taught fundamental theology and dogmatic in the Angelicum in Rome, and in 1917 he founded the first department of spiritual theology.

He has been considered the most important Thomist theologian of the 20th century. His achievement was particularly significant on the field of spiritual theology.

ON HIS LIFE ON THE WEB:

- Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange OP
- A Saint in Heaven
- The Last Battle of Garrigou-Lagrange
- Padre Gontran Garrigou-Lagrange
- Réginald Garrigou-Lagrange Il mostro sacro del Tomismo 

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

- Bibliografie P. Reginalda Garrigou-Lagrange OP
- Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange
- Fonti bibliografiche su P. Réginald Garrigou-Lagrange
- Tutte le opere di p. Garrigou-Lagrange 

HIS WORKS:

in English;
- THE THREE AGES OF THE INTERIOR LIFE.
- THE THREE WAYS OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE.
- LIFE EVERLASTING.
-  CHRIST THE SAVIOR.
-  CHRIST THE SAVIOUR  - A Commentary on the Third Part of St Thomas' Theological Summa
- REALITY—A Synthesis Of Thomistic Thought.
- PROVIDENCE.
- THE TRINITY AND GOD THE CREATOR. 
- GRACE: Commentary on the Summa Theologica of St. Thomas. 
- Commentaries on the Summa written by Pere Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P.
- THE ONE GOD - A Commentary on the First Part of St Thomas' Theological Summa 
- PREDESTINATION
- The Priesthood and Perfection
- Excerpts from  fr. Garrigou-Lagrange OP
- Excerpts from Garrigou-Lagrange's commentary on De Eucharistia
- The Mother of the Savior
- Where is the New Theology Leading Us?

en français
- Les Trois äges de la vie Intérieure 
- La Mère du Sauveur et notre vie intérieure 
- La Providence et la confiance en Dieu
- L'Éternelle vie et la profondeur de l'Âme
- Les trois conversions et les trois Voies
- Le sens commun
- La synthèse thomiste
- La Mère du Sauveur et notre vie intérieure
- Articles:
  - La Royauté universelle du Christ
  - L'unique personnalité du Christ 
  - Le sacerdoce du Christ
  - Le Christ Chef mystique de l'Eglise 
  - Le Cœur eucharistique de Jésus et le don parfait de Lui-même
  - La Sainte Trinité en nous 
  - La Sainte Trinité et le don de soi
  - Les convenances de l'Incarnation et notre vie spirituelle
  - Le progrès spirituel en Marie
  - Du gouvernement royal
  - La joie d’être enfant de Dieu
  - La charité et les béatitude
  - L'efficacité de la prière
  - La Prééminence de saint Joseph sur tout autre saint
  - Comment  devons-nous nous abandonner à la Providence ?
  - Le Discernement des esprits 

  - Prémystique naturelle et mystique surnaturelle

  - La Question de l'Amour pur et les principes de St Thomas 

  - Le devoir de la réparation

  - L'assistance à la Messe, source de vie spirituelle 

  - L'âme du Saint-Sacrifice de la Messe

  - Les communions sans action de grâces 

  - Pour l’intelligence du dogme de la Providence

  - Grâce actuelle et sainteté personnelle 

en español
- Las tres edades de la vida interior
- La sintesis tomista

in italiano
- Sacerdote con Cristo
 Sacerdote e Vittima