Mary Morrell
Columnist
The fire of passion leads down unexpected roads
Hear O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.
— Deuteronomy 6:4-5
“The concert is on!” wrote our conductor in a late afternoon e-mail last week at about the same time that many office staff were being released early from work because of the on-going snowfall.
The weather forecast had changed, he noted, from one of significant accumulation of snow and ice to a mere few inches of winter mix — in other words, slush — so the evening concert that had been long in planning would go on as scheduled.
Unfortunately, the snow and ice never got word of the newest forecast and by the time we were ready to head out to our destination the only safe way to travel was inch by inch.
We arrived wet and cold and bedraggled in our concert blacks at the magnificent historic church where we would sing in honor of St. Patrick’s Day.
Those of us who had made it so far gathered around an old wooden table and waited for those who hadn’t. “We’re all crazy, you know,” someone suggested. Everyone laughed, but nobody argued the point. I remembered a quote someone had shared with me a few years ago on a similar occasion: “Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.”
With the sound of sleet hitting the leaded windows, it wasn’t hard to imagine that our families and friends would consider us exactly that — insane.
But later, as I sat for a photo shoot with the now 40 vocalists and instrumentalists who had slid in for the performance, I realized it was not insanity but passion that had brought us all out on such a terrible night. From my vantage point, seated in a large wing-chair in front of a 400-year-old carved fireplace mantle, I watched the faces of my fellow musicians as they took their places — laughing, smiling, fully engrossed in the moment.
These were not crazy people, but people who heard the music of their passion wherever they went, and here, with this group, it became audible for the rest of world.
At the heart of all this was our conductor, a gifted composer whose personal “magic” seemed to bring the magic out in others. What’s a little snow, after all, when an opportunity to be part of the magic comes your way?
When I think of him, I am reminded of the words of James M. Kouzes, author and leadership expert, who said: “You can’t lead others to places you don’t want to go yourself. If you don’t feel a burning passion for something, how in the world can you inspire and encourage others to share it?”
In a more profound sense, this was the lesson Jesus taught by virtue of his life, imbued with a passion so great for his mission of doing the Father’s will that the world was forever transformed by his birth and his death, with hope being the legacy of his Resurrection.
Jesus fulfilled his mission with passion, presence and prayer, leading untold numbers to follow him to places they never expected, or wanted, to go, for the sake of holiness.
The remarkable words of William Butler Yeats in his poem, “The Travail of Passion,” continue to capture the “why” of our following Christ:
“When the flaming lute-thronged angelic door is wide; When an immortal passion breathes in mortal clay; Our hearts endure the scourge, the plaited thorns, the way crowded with bitter faces, the wounds in palm and side, the hyssop-heavy sponge, the flowers by Kidron stream . . .”
In the hours before his death, as he suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus surely weighed the full price of redemption. Still, he said “yes” out of love for his Father and for his Father’s children. Here we see most certainly that the fire of passion is love.
With Good Friday so close at hand, there is reason to reflect on the passion that fueled Jesus’ life and to pray that it may fuel ours as well.
*The attached/referenced article was originally published in The Catholic Spirit, the official newspaper of the Diocese of Metuchen, and is protected under U.S. and international copyright law