"Breathing Alleluia"
Janita K. Byars, Ed.D.
March
5, 2008
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The Prodigal Alleluia
Discovering beauty of person
or wonder of place like awe at birthtime,
or
Receiving serendipitous
rewards or opportunities with the “Ah!” of satisfaction.
Introducing
Alleluia.
Reaping pardons - resulting
from love or endeavors - without recompense or remorse,
or
Resolving - during the
“Wow!” of a new year - without reflection or responsibility.
Exploiting
Alleluia.
Restricting responses in the
presence of prime though unobserved beliefs,
or
Illustrating incompetence
through the consequences of “paralysis by no opinion.”
Losing
Alleluia.
Groping through fogs of
norms, storms of shame, and blame of self,
but
Comprehending the costumes
of a challenged culture disguised by trivial terms.
Seeking
Alleluia.
Atoning to those in
absentia through annotated apology or redirected restitution,
and
Bestowing and receiving
forgiveness through a functional vision of amnesty.
Finding
Alleluia.
Grasping at a ledge of logic
or wedge of wisdom in order to rise up or pry apart,
and
Assessing options
judiciously - to lead with humble but unyielding self-respect.
Using
Alleluia.
Dancing to the cadence of
the heart, the samba of the soul, and the jeté of the spirit,
while
Exhaling air-waves of
integrity and intent in
the soundless fanfare of a powerful overture.
Celebrating
Alleluia!
Janita K. Byars
February 2008
I am asking your assistance to go to a special place: to the fine line between speaking and singing where emotion dwells and where we, together, could create Alleluia. The sounds that reside there are most often non-verbal - for example, the wail in times of grief or the "eeee" of surprise. We can find that place by using our breath as the vehicle (the stream of breath that is useful in childbirth or meditation). I will demonstrate this for you, now: first, I will take a very deep, slow breath and breathe out at the same rate. Please join me in this exercise (deep breath/breathe out). Now, I will breathe in, slowly, and breathe out, using a complete breath to speak, “Alleluia.” Please join me in practicing this (deep breath/speak-breathe "Alleluia"). Now, please repeat it for one more – and final - time (deep breath/speak-breathe "Alleluia").
You now own Alleluia. Conversely – or equally, since Alleluia has left you breathless, it owns you. Capture that moment. Remember that feeling of expended breath and organically-expressed Alleluia.
We have set the scene - now, to continue: While the number three has a history of designation as a holy integer (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) or the philosophical trisection of psychological forces (reason, spirit, and appetite), seven is a human-action digit. For example, we best remember lists of no more than seven - names, numbers, or groups of items. We stopped at "seven" when counting the wonders of the ancient, modern, or natural worlds. While there is general agreement regarding the seven deadly sins (lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride), lists of the seven human emotions vary – but there are only seven on each of the five lists that I identified. The seven particular emotions that appeared on at least two lists include anger, fear, lust/sex, acceptance, hatred, love, and sorrow/depression. Such time-tested itemizations give us a “heads-up” with regard to what we may encounter along our pathways toward Alleluia.
By design, there are seven verses in my poem, “The Prodigal Alleluia,” and seven related frames-of-Alleluia-reference. Within the short span of time needed to read or speak the poem, lifetimes of challenge as well as of triumph are referenced. The poem’s unspecified main character moves from a childlike, passive mode, through arbitrary or questionable responses, to a complex and hard-earned forgiveness and Alleluia. Each reader can fill in the particulars of his or her life-experiences; however, the commonalities, like the lists of seven, bring us together.
Knowledge of these commonalities serves as a compass. Where am I now? What will I encounter next? Where does it all lead?
The knowledge also serves as a comfort. I may lose Alleluia, but I can get it back. The Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashanah includes the tradition of Tashlikh, when participants cast off their sins through emptying breadcrumbs from their pockets into the flowing water of rivers or streams. In witnessing, from below, this act of atonement, the river stones have a two-dimensional story to tell – of the request for forgiveness and the acknowledgement of having been forgiven. The stones bear witness to the Alleluia process.
The knowledge of our commonalities can serve as a medium for our
forgiveness of others and, even, of ourselves.
In the novel, Atonement, Ian
McEwan explored the topics of sin, conditional repentance, and search for
absolution. Now - in the motion
picture of the same name, director Joe Wright puts before us on the great
screen, the youthful and enchanting face of an unsuspected offender.
This child, Briony, exploited her significant story-telling skills that
led to tragedy and then to a successful literary career.
Questions regarding the outcome of her attempt at atonement are left for
the viewer to ponder, including a significant question regarding
self-forgiveness. Vicariously, the
viewer must determine whether the final, but essential, act of forgiveness of
self is possible.
Not just a vowel-laden word like fa-la-la
or do-wah, the origins of the musical
sounds of Allelulia have ancient Greek
roots and carry a specific message: “All
hail to Him Who is!”
In being forgiven and forgiving oneself, through arriving at self-respect
and respect for Who is, the Alleluia
returns. Forgiveness, like
respect, becomes functional when the circle is unbroken and the cycle is
complete. We are forgiven.
We are ready to breathe: Alleluia!