I heard a piece of music for the first time the other day that touched me with its quiet beauty. Because of it, I began to recall the “music of the soul” in my life.
In this music that seems to defy categorization, genres are meaningless: sacred music, classical, country, pop, folk, jazz. In the classical world “Claire de Lune” by Debussy, Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” or the Masses of the masters come to mind. In country, Hank Williams crooning “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry,” Patsy Cline’s rendition of “Crazy,” and “Man of Constant Sorrow” by the Stanley Brothers all reach out to me. The Beatles’ pop song “Yesterday,” “These Days” by Jackson Browne or just about anything written by Paul Simon does the same. The good Sisters of Mercy actually introduced me to folk giants Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan in our mandatory grade school choir. We sang Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land” and Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind.” Pretty hip nuns, if you ask me! I have a niece who sings “Ave Maria” like an angel and at my wedding an affectionate old baritone from Little Italy sang full-throated the Our Father, touching every person there. As a child, to see my parents dance to “their song,” the “Tennessee Waltz,” was a sweet wonderment I shall never forget. It has also been a pleasure impossible to describe, the passing along of the Irish family anthem “Galway Bay,” the last verse being:
And if there’s going to be a life hereafter,
And faith, I’m sure there’s going to be,
I will ask my God to let me make my heaven
In that dear land across the Irish sea.
Even a bad rendition of “Holy God We Praise Thy Name” still moves me, as does even an off-key belting out of “The Star Spangled Banner.” All of it is the music of the soul to me.
My wife was a professional singer and when I met her in a jazz club, I requested “My Funny Valentine.” She sang it for me and less than 60 days later I asked for her hand. I had melted off the bar stool! That was 32 years ago. Other great jazz tunes come to mind, standards and otherwise: “Lullabye of Birdland,” “Fly Me to The Moon,” Louis Armstrong singing and blowing his horn in “It’s a Wonderful World” and Sinatra’s “One For My Baby (and One More for the Road).” And watching my wife on stage singing “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” is as memorable and romantic a moment as I can imagine, a remembrance from a world beyond this one.
So as I mentioned, I heard this song I’d never heard before. It was written by the great Duke Ellington and it’s called “The Single Petal of a Rose.” I haven’t found lyrics and I don’t think it has any. It doesn’t need them. All you have to do is listen and let the music of that single petal of that rose lead you on. I got to see Duke Ellington once in a small civic auditorium in Asheville a couple of years before he died. He was as eloquent as ever. What the song says to me is: Look at what’s in front of you. There are treasures before you that God does not want you to overlook. Listen for the music of the soul. Our world is anything but melodious today: politics is as mean spirited as I’ve ever seen it; individual imaginations are sapped by the mob rule of technology; traditional Catholic values and practices are being attacked and left by the wayside, unfortunately, even by many Catholics.
It’s not a flower-filled field, a great wreath of peonies, garland of gardenias or even a solitary rose pinpointed in the song, but the single petal of a rose. Amidst all the cacophonous traffic of our increasingly godless culture, the collective noise of vulgarity that’s become such a part of our lives, to still be able to perceive God’s majesty in our world is to be reminded of His watchful eye, His dominion over all, His insistence upon beauty and harmony to refresh our souls.
“The Single Petal of a Rose” beckons me to consider what Jean Pierre de Caussade called “the sacrament of the present moment,” that is, what is beautiful and sacred right in front of my eyes: my wife’s welcome when I return from work; a text from one of the kids just checking in; the laughter of friends; a celebratory meal; a smile to warm the heart; a grateful response to a kindness shown; a saint’s simple prayer; treasured moments before the Blessed Sacrament; memories elicited from an old photograph; hearing in my sleep the voice of a loved one gone – or perhaps a simple song that touches my soul.
What is holy before me? Am I so engulfed in the tension of warring ideologies, so taken aback by the collapse of traditional family values, so disheartened by the inhumane elements of a technocracy that I can no longer hear the euphonious and resonant beat of a single human heart? Or am I, trusting my risen Christ present in the Eucharist and in every second of the day, still able to extract a detail of His handiwork, focus on it, and find joy in it? Can I see my work and my personal life as service rendered to God, as a lovely petal, silken to the touch, the single petal exemplifying God’s hand in my life and in my perceptions… the single petal of a rose? How beautiful the sight; how lovely the sound of the music of the soul.
Fred Gallagher is an author and editor-in-chief with Gastonia-based Good Will Publishers Inc. For two beautiful renditions of “The Single Petal of a Rose,” he recommends looking up the song on YouTube and searching for Aaron Diehl on piano and Joe Temperley on bass clarinet.