Friday, 10 August 2012

Back Beat


We have received not another email but a comment that poses a question. A certain classical musician wants to post the following comment on one of our posts. Rather than do that we’re going to give it a post of its own. Here it is, slightly edited:

Can I ask, then, because I'm a classical musician sometimes struggling whether classical music is useful or not, what the Orthodox Church's opinion of classical music is?

I also think that classical music may not be as spiritual and transforming as [Orthodox] chant is but I think that it is a great gift that can work as a healer in the psychological sense and also help people come closer to God.

What do you think?
 
Our post Evagrius on the Inner Ascent 1 is the occasion of the comment. In that post we remarked:

...[L]et us first look at the use of music in liturgical worship. In Evagrius’ time, and earlier, there were still pagans in Alexandria. They used ‘wild music’ as part of their celebrations. In Chapter 71 of The Monk, one of Evagrius’ most important ascetical works,1 Evagrius says this:

On the one hand, demonic songs set our desire in motion and put the soul into shameful fantasies; on the other hand, psalms and hymns and spiritual songs ever bring the mind to a memory of virtue, chilling our burning temper and withering our desires.

We could reflect on this remark in regard to the concept of ‘Christian rock’. Something’s wrong. ‘If it’s got a back beat you can dance to it.’ That is what the pagans were doing in Evagrius’ day and that is what Evagrius is commenting on: such music sets the desire in motion … but psalms and hymns and spiritual songs chill our burning temper and wither our desires.

In an Orthodox monastery, the way the services are done is very important. This includes both the actual type of chant and its manner of execution. All those droning monks have a role to play in the formation of the monk in the monastery: the very music is bringing his mind to a memory of virtue—a memory of God—and cooling his temper and withering his desire. The chant is calming him down, making him more serene....

Because Orthodox Monk doesn’t know everything—well, at least no one is consulting us on Relativity—we are inclined to quote something someone told us Elder Paisios said: ‘Rock Music is demonic; Western Classical Music takes you into a world that doesn’t exist, leaving you just the way you were when it finishes; only Orthodox chant transforms the person.

Apart from this remark of Elder Paisios we do not think that the Orthodox Church has an opinion on Western Classical Music. We will give our own personal comments, although not in a very systematic fashion. Moreover, we’re not musicologists or professional musicians so we haven’t thought through these things systematically or academically. We also may have some of our facts wrong. Sorry.

Western Classical Music is extremely broad. There’s a big difference between Satie’s Gymnopedies and Wagner’s Ring cycle; between Vivaldi’s Four Seasons and Bach’s Suites for Unaccompanied Violincello; between Shostakovitch’s Leningrad Symphony and Rachmaninoff’s Vespers; between Mozart’s Magic Flute and Rossini’s William Tell. Where do you begin?

One characteristic of Western Classical Music is that it uses rather few and simple scales, emphasizing not melody but harmony. By contrast, Rock Music emphasizes rhythm, using very simple melody and harmony and sometimes emphasizing volume to go with the rhythm—precisely the road of the demonic. Eastern music, where here we mean both Byzantine Chant and Far Eastern music such as the Indian raga, uses very many complex scales emphasizing melody over harmony.

Western liturgical music (Gregorian Chant) differs from Orthodox liturgical music in that it uses one scale, essentially, from the eight basic scales of Byzantine Chant and interprets that scale in a way consistent with the traditions of Western music: simpler melodies and an emphasis on harmony, at least compared to Byzantine Chant.

As a side note let us point out that Byzantine Chant also uses deeper voices than Gregorian Chant—the Russian bass voice for the deacon’s parts is of course famous—so that Byzantine Chant is going to have a different psychological effect from Gregorian Chant.

In general Gregorian Chant would be a good thing to listen to if you’re tense, agitated or upset. It’s very soothing and calming. We wouldn’t say that Byzantine Chant is as soothing as Gregorian Chant. Is that bad? Well, Byzantine Chant is consistent with Orthodox monasticism.

Here there might be an opening for someone to think about the difference in temperament between Roman Catholic and Orthodox monasticism. We think that this difference in temperament derives from a different psychology of monasticism. In Roman Catholic monasticism there is a very heavy influence of Augustine so that there is less of an emphasis on the cooperative effort of the monk or nun with the Grace of the Holy Spirit than there is in Orthodox monasticism. This Augustinian influence, we think, makes for a monasticism that is more centered on the monastery as a foretaste of Heaven (Gregorian Chant as the song of angels), whereas the Orthodox monastery is more a place of individual spiritual struggle where there is also an emphasis on the role of Eros for God in the ascent to God, so that Byzantine Chant would be more intense.

Also, since Thomas Aquinas there has been a much greater emphasis on sentimentality in Roman Catholic spirituality than in the Orthodox Church. This would be consistent with a sentimental emphasis in the present-day execution of Gregorian Chant: that tranquilizing effect can be seen as an attempt to work on the sentiments or emotions more than Byzantine Chant in the Orthodox Church. Consistent with the remark of Elder Paisios Byzantine Chant would be seen from this point of view as working not on the sentiments or emotions but with the nous or inner spirit of man.

So how can we give a reply to our interlocutor? Clearly, by their fruits you shall know them as regards the effect of music, even Western Classical Music, on people. Is the person calmer afterwards? More agitated? Does he think about God? Is he ready to pick up a gun and start shooting (Apocalypse Now, Ride of the Valkyries on the helicopter gunship)?

There is another issue. While Western Classical Music does not have the same emphasis on improvisation that Classical Indian Music does, still there is the issue of the depth both of the composer and of the conductor or performer. Bach had depth; did Mozart have depth? Does von Karajan have more or less depth than Toscanini for the same piece? We don’t know, but apart from all the other issues, these things play a role in any evaluation of the worth of any particular piece or performance.

There is also another issue. Some Western Classical composers were Christian; some were not. Inevitably there is going to be an influence of the composer’s beliefs on his music, and therefore on his audience. Does this mean that because Satie was a Rosicrucian that we shouldn’t listen to his music? We hope we’re not quite so schematic about things. But a serious and thoughtful person would think about whether there’s a connection. Does the fact that Wagner was beloved by Hitler play a role? We don’t listen to Wagner, not being of the bombastic school of music, so we couldn’t say. But a serious and thoughtful person would think about whether there’s a connection. Who knows, maybe Orthodox Monk has just invented a new field of scholarship: the spiritual psychology of music.

1 Évagre Le Pontique. Traité pratique ou Le moine (Practical Treatise or The Monk). Tome I. Introduction. Tome II. Édition critique du texte grec… Antoine Guillaumont et Claire Guillaumont. 1971. Sources chrétiennes, Nos 170 & 171. Paris, France: Les Éditions du Cerf.

Wednesday, 8 August 2012

An American Vocation

We have received an email asking our advice.  The sender has given us permission to discuss his email here on the blog.  Here is the email, slightly edited to protect the identity of the sender, for style and to correct a few typos:
Dear Monk,
I am a 30 year old Greek Orthodox student in the United States. I have experienced a strange set of circumstances which have made me try to get closer to God and Christ. Lately I feel as if I am being called to live a monastic life, away from the evils of this world, which I forsake anyway. In truth I find no pleasure in life, not only because of the day-to-day struggle of the outside world but also because of the struggle inside myself. At times I feel as if I should be spending my days praising God and Christ for all they have done for me. Currently I am torn.  A big part of me wants to become a monk, to grow spiritually and to give up everything I have to follow Christ to try to obtain salvation and heaven. The other part of me, the one attached to things, is the part of me that wants to finish college, start a career and family and have lots of children. I guess that part of me doubts; it doubts that if I give everything up Christ will save me and allow me to go to Heaven (again, these past 2 years I have experienced bad things spiritually). It’s as if that part of me feels as if I am not loved by God or I wronged God so much that I am beyond forgiveness and repentance (I know it sounds weird). Furthermore, if I do become a monk, the question arises, am I doing it for his glory or for working towards my own salvation (a more selfish reason)? I know and understand that God knows us inside and out, our motives as well as everything else.
I was wondering if you could shed some light on what being and living as an orthodox monk is like. There is a monastery nearby that I was planning on visiting as well as talking to my priest about monasticism. Whatever I decide to do I just want to find some joy in it not only for myself but for God.
Thank you for your time and I look forward to hearing from you.
Best,
Yannis Papadopoulos (not a real name)
There are a number of issues here but the main issue is the nature of the monastic vocation, especially in the context of sin.
Yannis doesn’t tell us a lot about himself but he does have a priest that he can go to for confession and counselling.  He is not disconnected from the Greek Orthodox community in his home town.  He does seem to have had some unspecified spiritual problems in the last two years; we take this to mean that there have been some sins.  So, hoping that we are reading the situation right, let’s look at the monastic vocation.
First of all, in the Ladder of Divine Ascent St John of Sinai gives three possible reasons for someone to become a monastic.  These are the three possible legitimate reasons that God respects.  The first is love of God; the second is the reward in Heaven; and the third is fear of God because of sin.  St John accepts these three reasons and says that all other reasons are absurd.  St John says that a man who becomes a monk for love of God is like a runner who once he has warmed up runs even faster; whereas the man who becomes a monk for the reward is like the mule or donkey tethered to the pole and made to walk in a circle around the pole so as to separate the wheat from the chaff in the harvest under its feet; and whereas the man who becomes a monk because of fear (it is understood, because of previous sins) is like incense that starts out fragrant and ends as smoke: that is, such vocations peter out.
Now, so that Yannis can understand that sin per se does not either prevent a monastic vocation or impose the model of the man of fear who peters out like incense, he should read Elder Sophrony (Sakharov’s) book called St Silouan the Athonite.  Before he went to Mt Athos St Silouan fathered a child out of wedlock (God arranged that the child be taken care of so that Silouan could go to Mt Athos without any obligation to remain in the world to care for the child).  It is evident from his biography that although he had sinned St Silouan became a monk out of love for God.  It is also evident that after a vision of the risen Christ in the Russian Monastery of St Panteleimon (Mount Athos), St Silouan was seriously troubled by visitations from demons for 17 years—demons that were visible to him.  He was reduced to the edge of despair—and who wouldn’t be?  It was only through the Grace of God that he was able to survive spiritually.  This is a serious, serious struggle.
Elder Sophrony also records St Silouan’s own admission that after his vision of the Risen Christ, as the years went on St Silouan was twice deceived when he accepted false visions.  They’re batting big league on Mt Athos; we beginners can only look with awe on such titanic spiritual battles as St Silouan faced and experienced in his monastic career on Athos.
Let us now look at how we beginners have to understand our vocation.
The first thing to take is that we go to the monastery to work on our salvation.  It is a misreading of monasticism to think that the only legitimate monastic vocation is the one that is madly in love with God and wants to spend its whole earthly life praising God.  We go to the monastery baptized Orthodox, yes, but baptized Orthodox who bear the fruits of Adam’s sin so that we are not perfect.  We go to the monastery to join battle in the wrestling arena so as to become perfect.  It’s a struggle to put off the old man and put on the new.  It’s difficult in the world.  It’s far more difficult on Mt Athos and even in a milder monastery in the United States.
The primary means to accomplish the monastic struggle, for all monks but especially beginners, is obedience.  Obedience can be very difficult, although we suppose that an authoritarian personality might—for all the wrong reasons—find it easy.
We would suggest to Yannis the following.  Go to confession and admit to all your sins.  Discuss with the priest, whom you know and who knows you, your interest in monasticism.  See what he tells you.  He’ll probably have known you from birth—who knows, he might even have baptized you—and should be able to say something wise about whether you’re the type.  Afterwards, with your priest’s concurrence, visit Mt Athos.  You might or might not have a vocation; we don’t know.  However, on Mt Athos you will certainly see what monasticism is all about.  It might speak to you and it might not.  We don’t know.  But you will have a clearer idea of what your choices in life are.  We are not saying your choices are marriage or Mt Athos; you might fit in a monastery in America—we don’t know and are not telling you what to do.  However we are saying that a visit to Mt Athos will help you understand yourself and monasticism better.
Yannis says that thoughts come to him that God will never forgive him his sins.  These thoughts are temptations but they certainly cloud the view Yannis will have both of his possibilities of salvation in the world—we do not need to become monks in order to lead a spiritual life and to be saved—and of the possibility of his becoming a monk.  These thoughts ordinarily dissipate with confession.
Our personal view is that a person should finish their education before becoming a monk or nun but there are other points of view and much depends on discernment of the actual will of God in each case.  Greek Orthodox monasticism is not hostile to learning and there are many educated monks on Mt Athos.  So we would certainly suggest that Yannis continue with his education until such a time as he has made arrangements to enter a specific monastery whether in the United States or on Mount Athos, or indeed anywhere else.  A vocation is to a specific monastery and requires that Yannis be accepted by that monastery, including by the Abbot of that monastery.  That Abbot of that monastery will become Yannis’ guide and trainer in the monastic life.  So until such a time as Yannis has set a date for entry into a specific monastery and the Abbot concurs that he should stop his studies, Yannis should continue them.  Of course it may turn out that Yannis doesn’t have a vocation and therefore won’t find a monastery to enter.  In that case he won’t have damaged his worldly life by having stopped his studies unnecessarily.
May God bless Yannis.