SINGING A NEW SONG
Ven con nosotros, a caminar,
Santa María, Ven,
Ven con nosotros, a caminar,
Santa María, Ven,
Most weeks we close our worship at Santa Margarita (Saint Margaret’s Barrie, ON) singing Santa Maria del Camino, by Juan A. Espinosa. This song is well known by my community. Folks from Mexico, Peru, Colombia, and elsewhere joyously sing along. This song and others are challenging me and expanding my own spiritual and theological horizons as I enter a deeper relationship with the people I serve.
What does it mean to sing and pray that Mary would accompany us in our journey? What does it mean to sing and lead worship across cultures? What are the ways that hymns, songs, and music invite us to connect across cultures and grow both closer in relationship with members of our own culture and others?
Maybe my journey has some of the answers, or at least places that I begin reflecting on answers. Somehow this Canadian Anglican priest, raised in an English-speaking Lutheran household, can sing this new (to me) song with growing authenticity and confidence. Probably it’s not actually about me, because God (and maybe Mary) has been on this journey shaping me along the way.
Mientras recorres la vida Trav’ling on life’s daily journey,
Tú nunca solo estás We never walk alone,
Contigo por el camino Mary, our Mother is with us,
Santa María, va Sharing our pilgrim road.
Growing up, I worshiped with my family as part of a Lutheran Congregation in London, Ontario. The congregation had cultural ties to Europe, with many members having emigrated or having close family connections back to Germany and Poland. Each Christmas Eve, we sang Silent Night by candlelight in our various native languages. The joyous sounds of Silent Night in German, English, Polish, Eritrean, and other languages was always a holy moment on Christmas Eve.
Each year we heard those old stories again: Joseph and Mary, Jesus born in the manger. We gathered around the creche, bringing language and culture with us, our stories and our histories. Representing the journeys we collectively had been on finding their way to the Christ Child. All these cultures, joined in song, as we gathered around the holy family.
I studied both Spanish and French, as knowing languages opened up culture and the world to me. During that time, the Lutheran Service Book (2005) was adopted by my church, which included hymns in Spanish translation and a few songs from Latin America (representing a connection to the Nicaraguan Lutheran Church). Those hymns became a part of my delight in Spanish as they opened my mind to the difficulties and the gifts of translation: cultural, rhythmic, and theological.
Theology eventually captured my attention during my undergraduate degree and the languages from my undergraduate studies took a back seat while I pursued a Masters of Arts in theology. Still, the questions of theology of culture were always floating in the background. The question of what makes worship appropriate in a given context informed my studies, my life, and ministry in the Anglican Church of Canada.
My interest in ethics invited me to hear Mary’s Magnificat afresh. The voices of liberationist theologians invited me to hear that the reign of God she proclaimed might have real implications for our lives in particular cultures around the world. When I began working and worshipping at St. James Cathedral in Toronto that I discovered how Mary’s Magnificat wove its way through evening prayer and evensong. Mary’s Song invited me to a deeper wrestling through the liturgy for the coming reign of God, echoed in a way of love for neighbour, for the vulnerable, and the least.
Aunque te digan algunos Though some will tell us, discouraged,
Que nada puede cambiar “Nothing can ever change,”
Lucha por un mundo nuevo Fight for a new world of justice;
Lucha por la verdad Fight till the truth is gained.
Mary’s radical voice, sometimes captured in soaring and glorious composition, sometimes in radical preaching, sometimes in the simplicity of the spoken Magnificat of evening prayer, invited me to think about music and how it works through culture. I continued to grapple with connections between ethics and music. What were the gifts of cultural expression from my own cultural inheritance: hymns, mass settings, and contemporary songs? What do we receive from other cultures as well that might enrich us? And how do we do justice to the language, content, and culture as a member of a predominantly white church? What does it mean to celebrate this diversity together?
My own experiences of music had exposed me to a wide variety of styles, and each drew me into worship: from the rich German hymns of my Lutheran childhood; to contemporary worship music; to experiences of worship in unfamiliar cultures and places, like Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Cuba, and parts of Southern Africa; to the diverse styles of Anglican worship. The diversity of styles celebrated the gifts each culture brought to the liturgy, each offering a glimpse of heavenly worship. My training in language taught me that we should do our best to learn the right pronunciation of lyrics and the correct rhythms of the music. My work in theology encouraged me to knowing what the content was, especially in translation, to ensure it appropriately fit worship. The various pieces of my journey keep pointing me to the beauty and gift of worship that shape and grow us in our faith and connect us as neighbours beyond our own walls especially when done humbly, focused on learning, and building relationships across culture.
When I think about these questions, I often think about worship in the Book of Revelation. Chapter 7’s vision of the multitude of nations, each singing in their own language, is one of those scenes that I reflect on to when I think about worship. Worship across cultures fits with that vision of the multitude gathered around the throne.
Si por el mundo los hombres While people aimlessly wander,
Sin conocerse van Mary is at their side.
No niegues nunca tu mano She lends her hand to her Children,
Alguien contigo está Those who in love abide.
That is not to say that the journey of getting there is easy. These journeys can be tiring and often feel like aimless wandering. My Master of Arts degree took far longer than it should have. At one point I was burned out. At my lowest point, I spent a week visiting the Episcopal Church in Cuba for a cross-cultural church exchange. I went hoping for an opportunity to learn and be inspired, a quick fix, an experience to shake me out of where I was.
As one of the more proficient Spanish speakers in the group, I acted as translator for our small group even though my Spanish was several years out of use at that point. It felt like a burden and wasn’t the experience I wanted. But in that space, I was able to connect Canadians and Cubans, to hear and share stories, to pray, worship and wonder about the presence of God amid these challenges and the work our Cuban neighbours were doing. Maybe Mary was walking with me, midwifing things into my experience. Clearly the Holy Spirit was reminding me of the gifts of language that She had been planting for years.
Aunque parezcan tus pasos Though many steps on the journey
Inútil caminar Seem to be made in vain,
Tú vas haciendo caminos Still we are forging a pathway
Otros los seguirán Others will walk one day.
I still, wonder at times, where God is in the journey. It can be discouraging as a young priest, recently ordained facing into the realities of the institutional church. Many of us know the old song and dance of most Western churches: declining attendance, difficult finances, aging congregations. I often wonder what it looks like to teach a new song to an aging congregation. What does it look like to hope for the life-giving presence of the Gospel to renew our life together? Do we dare to reclaim the riches of our heritage and to receive from others the insights and gifts that might transform us?
And along with that, I encounter the uncertainties of planting a new congregation, especially across language, across cultures. One can only build connections step by step and see what happens. Each step can feel uncertain. Who will be here this week? Will my sermon connect? Will this family or person be back in the next week or two? Did I hold myself open to the gifts of their culture with all its complexity or did I assume that I have it understood and in my control? Am I trusting God or am I too focused on myself?
The Virgin Mary has become a companion for me in these wonderings. Her voice draws together the riches of the prophetic tradition and sings out a renewed hope in her Magnificat. Her yes to God at the Anunciation is a model for my own yes-es in ministry. Her humility, and willingness to hold mystery in her heart, is an invitation to contemplate and hold things gently in ministry. The Incarnation worked out in her womb, a blending of God and human, an example of cross-cultural ministry and a reminder that God is with us.
What does it mean for us to learn to sing new songs? To receive cross- culturally and contribute cross -culturally in our ministry? I am still in process and figuring out what exactly it might look like to do that with justice, from a place of appreciation rather than appropriate. One way seems to be to take a posture like Mary: a willingness to say yes to re-learn along the way. To approach the work with hands open, not grasping or holding too tightly, instead trusting that God is at work, praying and seeking for holy companions to walk with us.
Learning to sing,
Ven con nosotros, a caminar,
Santa María, Ven,
Ven con nosotros, a caminar,
Santa María, Ven,
Representative Text of the Hymn:
“Santa Maria del Camino” in Oramos Cantando We Pray in Song (GIA)
Mientras recorres la vida
Tú nunca solo estás
Contigo por el camino
Santa María, va
chorus
Ven con nosotros al caminar
Santa María, ven
Ven con nosotros al caminar
Santa María, ven
Aunque te digan algunos
Que nada puede cambiar
Lucha por un mundo nuevo
Lucha por la verdad
Si por el mundo los hombres
Sin conocerse van
No niegues nunca tu mano
Alguien contigo está
Aunque parezcan tus pasos
Inútil caminar
Tú vas haciendo caminos
Otros los seguirán
Translation by Mary Louise Bringle: Oramos Cantando, We pray in Song, (GIA)
Trav’ling on life’s daily journey,
We never walk alone,
Mary, our Mother is with us,
Sharing our pilgrim road.
Refrain
Come as we journey along our way,
Santa Maria come,
Come as we journey along our way,
Santa Maria come,
Though some will tell us, discouraged,
“Nothing can ever change,”
Fight for a new world of justice;
Fight till the truth is gained.
While people aimlessly wander,
Mary is at their side.
She lends her hand to her Children,
Those who in love abide.
Though many steps on the journey
Seem to be made in vain,
Still we are forging a pathway
Others will walk one day.
