10/9/22

Last night I went to see Batushka, which is one of my all-time favourite bands. Their music and aesthetic is the pinnacle of black metal, in my opinion. Their show is a corrupted Orthodox divine liturgy, much of it in Old Church Slavonic with a few tweaks combined with polished black metal riffs that create religious hymns of self-worship, and it's absolutely brilliant. It's meant to be dark and blasphemous, schema monk imagery and all, and I appreciate aspects of that. There's something appealing about darkness and individualism, as well the idea of not conforming to something that contains oppressive elements (as organized religion certainly has). And God knows I've always had a rebellious streak in me.

Today, in contrast, I went to Spirit of Grace, which I haven't been to in a couple of weeks. They had a visiting priest today, Fr. Neil Moore, with the homily being given by Franciscan friar, Br. James Lockman. The focus of the homily was having a better appreciation of our environment and our impact upon it, bringing up his own ecological restoration work, Pope Francis' encyclical Laudato Si', and St. Francis' teachings and hymn, "Canticle of the Creatures." Br. James also made a point to note how, in the gospel reading for the day, John 15:8-17, Jesus shatters the hierarchy that was imposed by the religious tradition of his day—he calls his disciples his friends, there are no subordinates, all are equal with the great teacher and each other. And the love we are called to show our neighbour we are also called to show to all of creation, including our common home of earth:

Praised be you, my Lord, through our Sister, Mother Earth, who sustains us and directs us bringing forth all kinds of fruits and colored flowers and herbs.

The former was loud and aggressive; the latter subdued and harmonious. And yet within each ritual experience I found a similar feeling pulling me towards something higher, deeper, more profound. I especially felt it when talking to the band after the show following a complaint I'd made regarding a mishap with the meet and greet package I'd purchased and it was just a connection between people. I started out angry and annoyed, but left full of appreciation and affinity for these seven strangers. The act of communication is itself an act of communion, and when done with love or at least the absence of animosity, can open up a deeper relationship that more fully realizes our social nature as a species as well as mirrors the interbeingness that underlies creation. It's, in essence, an unblemished and dynamic reflection of truth expressed by concepts such as the trinity, interbeing, etc. And that same connection is one that I find at church, especially during the eucharist and the conversations that follow. I believe connections can bridge most, if not all, divides if they're genuine and honest.

Thinking about these contrasting and seemingly contradictory experiences, I can't help but compare them to the tides. Like the tides, which come in and out, we too come in and out, we surrender and rebel. Ebb and flow. Life and death. Light and dark. It's all a part of life, and to truly appreciate life in its fullest, we must acknowledge and value the whole and not just the parts we like in that moment.