Today we celebrate the Third Sunday of Advent, a Sunday associated with the name Gaudete, or Rejoicing Sunday. In the past on this Sunday we have reveled in featuring our favorite setting of the liturgical text for Gaudete. Oh, do we love to sing, hear, and share this version! Should it be new to you, please do give it a chance to work its magic. Also, it’s a perfect composition for adding in finger cymbals or bells so that children can sing or dance along. (Do note that I just slipped in the word “dance.”)
This Sunday is also called Rose Sunday which explains the pink color of the third candle to be lit today in the Advent Wreath. The elegant, fragrant rose with her thorns has strong associations in Christian art, music, literature, and tradition. Sometimes in this Advent Calendar, I retell the story of the famous Rosenwunder (Rose Miracle) when Hungarian princess St. Elizabeth of Thuringia (1207-1231), taking bread to the poor, opened her cloak upon the harsh inspection of her disapproving husband and found the loaves had turned into a bouquet of roses.
But since our Advent Calendar this year focuses on bringing artistic content into your home, particularly in light of the difficulties of attending seasonal performances and events, I decided to look further.
And that’s when I stumbled upon Ballet Magnificat. To be accurate, I was searching for an engaging performance of the Latin text called The Magnificat. This text appears in the New Testament when Mary, visited by the Archangel Gabriel, says “Mine eyes doth magnify the Lord,” as she acquiesces to the angel’s proposal to become the mother of Baby Jesus. So you understand my surprise at finding a ballet company with that name.
Who are these people and what are they doing? Founded in 1986 in Jackson, Mississippi, Ballet Magnificat grew to become a full-time professional, touring dance company with a training program for younger dancers as well. In addition to creating balletic versions of sacred texts, they also choreograph other dances with inspirational themes. If you have family members with little exposure to the master-ballets in our Western canon, this company’s blend of classical techniques with modern choreography could be a good place to start. Quite an array of vignettes exists on their website, some of which I hope you will have time to explore.
This first clip caught my attention since the lyrics to this contemporary Christian tune are sung in Polish (the company does tour abroad and has spawned similar troupes in other countries).
I also liked, despite its amateur filming, this setting of the plaintive song O Come, O Come Emmanuel which ends with a surprise involving fabric—I won’t say more. Some of their dances dramatize biblical stories and parables. And for simply enjoying the Christmas spirit, try this clip from a program entitled Carols by Candlelight, not professionally filmed by any means, but still lovely to watch.
These dances by Ballet Magnificat are performances intended for audiences, albeit with strong spiritual messages. Despite the fact that these dancers are ardently Christian and view their art as a reflection of God’s glory, they are not presenting liturgical dance per se. Liturgical dance—dance done as an expression of texts within a worship service—belongs to a tradition rooted in the Old Testament (remember, Miriam danced and shouted with joy). Not surprisingly, certain aspects of liturgical dance stretch back to the temples and dramas of Classical Antiquity. For a time, liturgical dance continued to exist within the Western Christian (Roman Catholic) tradition. Then, in the Renaissance, it virtually disappeared.
In recent decades, though, a reexamination and revival of liturgical dance has occurred, including in Protestant churches. In fact, I first encountered liturgical dancers when I served as an organist in a Methodist church in Dallas. Because I expressed my surprise, the primary organizer of the group kindly reminded me of texts regarding dance in the Old Testament and even brought me references from medieval texts to help me connect the dots. Truth be told, I had read about liturgical dance in music history texts as a student; but seeing actual dancers—people I knew—carrying banners and clad in leotards and fabrics that expressed the liturgical colors of the season, all dancing with joy in a choral procession? That was something else again!
In short, dancing with awe and gratitude constitutes a unique way to express our spiritual joy. Whether the dancers of Ballet Magnificat and their productions strike your fancy or not, is it not grand that they could take their skills as dancers to create such a performing ensemble and bring us their fresh spiritual message of beauty?
You mention the Rosenwunder (Rose Miracle) when Hungarian princess St. Elizabeth of Thuringia (1207-1231), taking bread to the poor, opened her cloak upon the harsh inspection of her disapproving husband and found the loaves had turned into a bouquet of roses.
Although over time I’ve become more open-minded about miracles, I’m still more impressed by personal courage to effectuate real world “miracles.” Since it’s that time of the year that we eat more chocolate, let’s recall another medieval Lady from about the same period
Lady Godiva died just after the Norman invasion of Britain in 1066. She was an Anglo-Saxon noblewoman who is relatively well documented as the wife of Leofric, Earl of Mercia and a patron of various churches and monasteries. Today, she is mainly remembered for a legend dating back at least to the 13th century, in which she rode naked—covered only in her long hair—through the streets of Coventry to gain a remission of the oppressive taxation that her husband, Leofric, imposed on his tenants. (The name “Peeping Tom” for a yoyeur) originates from later versions of this legend, in which a man named Thomas watched her ride and was struck blind or dead).