What a Messiaen

There's nothing quite like a nice piece of music from scratch. Handel's Messiah in an afternoon, with the performance in the evening - brilliant fun. Not always a performance of the highest quality, but still worth listening to and a joyous time. Or likewise Stainer's Crucifixion. I know Hnaef regards it as a bad example of the sort of music that came out of the "Common" scene, but still - a bit of light practice and any choir with moderate voices can make a go of it.

So I was enthusiastic when they approached me for today's "Berlioz from Scratch". But to be honest, the Requiem in a Day was a bit of a disaster. The brass bands in particular - very badly-timed. Maybe we'll go for a performance of some nice Taizé next time.

Spontaneous Combustion

We hear a lot in these decadent, democratic, laissez-faire days, about spontaneity. There's almost a spontaneous religious movement, dedicated to the idea that anything planned is of its very nature oppressive and hierarchical - while anything spontaneous, flaky and thrown-together is good.

At its apex we reach the belief that prayers and sermons are only truly spiritual if they're extemporised and that God will always "give you the words".  That, in fact, to write out what you're going to say is a failure of faith. To anyone who believes this, I need only point out that this theory is often applied to speaking - which, in its basics, is fairly simple - and never to playing musical instruments. Nobody that I'm aware of has ever announced that they are going to play the bassoon, but they're going to skip any practice and just go straight to public performance because God will give them the notes.

Until today.  When Druzilla stood up in the middle of Pouring-out of Beakers  to announce that she had it on her heart to play the Clavinova. Druzilla has never had any interest in music before, and never touched a keyboard in her life. And when Dezmond, her partner, agreed to partner her on the double bass - again, something he has never attempted before - the result was the sort of musical carnage you might expect.

Now, I was busy wondering where Dezmond had managed spontaneously to obtain a double bass. When I should have been trying to stop Riseley giving what she called a "better interpretation of Jung's dream typology than you managed in the sermon, Archdruid". With Riseley shouting spontaneously over the musical mayhem (using Drayton's portable PA system which she had "spontaneously" borrowed), most Beaker Folk went into a state of complete cognitive dissonance and crawled under their chairs.

Again, I was too distracted trying to get enough stewards to carry Riseley out the Moot House. When I should have been intercepting Grigor, who had decided that he was going all spontaneous himself. At fire-eating. Before we could get there we'd lost another twenty feet of voile, and a number of Beaker People had acquired singed beards and kaftans. For the third time this week the sprinkler system cut in, and we all evacuated.

Look. I've gone all week with this spontaneity idea of Hnaef's. And I think, in its current format, it's gone far enough. But I don't want to be accused of stopping the wind of the spirit from blowing where it will. So I'm going to instigate a simple rule.

From now on, anyone wanting to be spontaneous must fill in a form to be presented at the meeting of the Moot, at least three weeks in advance - indicating where, when and in what form the spontaneity will take place. I only want a general indication of the kind of spontaneity you're planning - goodness knows I don't want to stifle creativity. I just don't want spontaneity to involve the unexpected again.

Let's face the music and Liturgical Dance - Spontaneous Self-Expression

Maybe I'm going soft, but I'm starting to get into all this spontaneity. Really sets the liturgy free. So when Charlii announced this evening that she had a song to bring to the meeting, I let her go for it. We even let her take the squirrel costume's head off for the second verse, so we could hear her properly.

And as Charlii sang so beautifully, I was only too glad to take up Blodwyg's offer to express the song through the medium of worship dance. It seemed deeply right - as though a Hand was guiding our paths.

But in retrospect, I don't think we got it quite right. "Bridge over Troubled Water is a beautiful, spiritual song. And I'm not sure the Can-Can added that much to it.

Spontaneity breaks out

Don't get me wrong. I really think Hnaef's conversion to the spontaneous is a good thing. Too often we button down our activities, leaving no space for the spirit to move or for the day to be seized. And although I sometimes wonder if a God who has had all eternity to prepare something good is really likely just to throw things together at the last moment, on the other hand I can appreciate that the thousand-page Beake Book of Rules can stifle that fickle spark of inspiration occasionally.

But I think Hnaef over-did it a little bit. Sure, spontaneous singing - even in tongues - can be a wondrous thing. But just launching into the Lachrymosa from the Berlioz Requiem - I'm afraid there was no way the rest of the Community were going to be able, spontaneously, to join in with that. And Hnaef nearly gave himself a rupture trying to do it all himself.

Spontaneity - a new idea

Mrs Hnaef was out this morning, doing Things Which Do Not Concern Me, so, as is my wont, when the temperature is between 9-32 Celsius, the wind is under 20 km/h and I've consumed fewer than 8 units the night before, I went for a bike ride. And afterwards, as I am Instructed To Do, I had a shower. And I ruminated on the Archdruid's Rules of Engagement as I stood in the steady stream of hot water. And then I decided to get out. And as I did, an astonishing thought hit me. A thought which has never hit me before. And it was this.

What if, just from time to time, we seized the day (carpe-ed the diem, as 'twere), rejected hide-bound tradition, and did something new?

It shocked me, as I am sure it is shocking you. But what if we dispensed with, oh, I don't know, slow boring hymns with bad theology that no-one really likes but the organist can at least play, or vestments for a few services, or honorifics for non-lay-people, or only allowing adults to pour out beakers? Maybe some of the stories that Jesus told about leading sheep aren't meant to suggest that we're the sheep, but that we should be doing some leading? All of us?

Maybe we should be (and I had to think about this for a while, because it's a word I've not used for nearly 15 years now) spontaneous?

Normally, these sorts of ideas hit me when I'm in the company of Drayton (who drains the idea from me), the Archdruid (who reaches for her cricket bat) or Mrs Hnaef (who just looks at me in the way she does), and they vanish as the noon-day. But this time, I was alone. And I did it. I was spontaneous. As I stepped out of the shower, I reached for Mrs Hnaef's towel. Without asking. I am My Own Man. I can be new. I can be exciting. I can be spontaneous. What differences will this new Hnaef bring? We can but dream.