Krakow, Poland – a beautiful city with churches on every corner, packed masses, streets scattered with priests, friars, and nuns and young men who save nuns from the rain by sharing their umbrellas. Paintings of the Divine Mercy and St. Faustina are in nearly every church, people stop on their to and from work/school for adoration as well as leave fresh flowers on alters for the Saints and Our Lady. And, of course, it is the city of the newly canonized Pope Saint John Paul II, and he is everywhere.
I have been blessed with the opportunity to live in this phenomenal place for 10 months – I have a Fulbright Scholarship to study the music of the Jewish people in Krakow post-WWII (for more on that research, please see: http://notesofworth.weebly.com/research ). Between my studies, however, I am fully taking in the beauty and richness of the Catholic tradition here. I will continue to write posts about my experiences of a Catholic American abroad.
Today I want to tell you about the most beautiful mass from which I have just returned. I regularly go to (and sing at) Sunday mass at the most wonderful little church, Kosciol Sw. Idziego (Church of Saint Giles). However, after walking around the market this evening, I found myself going into the Church of the Holy Trinity with the Dominican Monastery to pray.
I found a pew, sat amongst the scattered others praying, and assumed that I had happened upon the evening prayer of the Dominican brothers. Their simple chant echoing through the ancient and immense Gothic church was gorgeous. However, they stopped soon after and turned off the electric chandeliers, leaving only the alter and statues of Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and other saints shining radiantly in the dimly lit church. Moved by the church's beauty, I paused to take it in before heading home to my new apartment. But people kept filing into the church; I realized had come in time for evening mass.
This church is near the university, and there were many young people in attendance. People kept coming and coming, and soon I found myself sandwiched next to a middle-aged couple and two young girls, hearing the constant sound of wooden folding chairs being unfolded and placed in every possible place. I watched with great anticipation as a choir gathered in the front of the church. What a treat! Though the Polish Church has an incredibly rich tradition, I have noticed that vocal liturgical music is not a forte. While I give credit to the congregations for typically singing without hymnals (can we in America say we know hymns that well?), vocal training is not often evident.
This choir, however, was comprised (as far as I could tell above the mass of congregational heads in front of me) of young people, presumably from the university, and they sang beautifully. Unaccompanied by an organ or any other instrument, their voices swelled and filled the huge space above the congregation. They led the entire mass this way, in Polish and Latin, leading the liturgical music. I sat in awe in this packed congregation in this gorgeous church as these young humans created these amazing sounds of worship and praise using just their voices and prayers. Though I stumbled to say "Peace be with you" in Polish and could only understand about five percent of the homily, the choir's worship - directly from their souls to mine - spoke loud and clear beyond the language barrier.
Let me assure you that the human voice – an instrument of the soul – is truly something powerful.
Peace and all good,
Sonja :)
I have been blessed with the opportunity to live in this phenomenal place for 10 months – I have a Fulbright Scholarship to study the music of the Jewish people in Krakow post-WWII (for more on that research, please see: http://notesofworth.weebly.com/research ). Between my studies, however, I am fully taking in the beauty and richness of the Catholic tradition here. I will continue to write posts about my experiences of a Catholic American abroad.
Today I want to tell you about the most beautiful mass from which I have just returned. I regularly go to (and sing at) Sunday mass at the most wonderful little church, Kosciol Sw. Idziego (Church of Saint Giles). However, after walking around the market this evening, I found myself going into the Church of the Holy Trinity with the Dominican Monastery to pray.
I found a pew, sat amongst the scattered others praying, and assumed that I had happened upon the evening prayer of the Dominican brothers. Their simple chant echoing through the ancient and immense Gothic church was gorgeous. However, they stopped soon after and turned off the electric chandeliers, leaving only the alter and statues of Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and other saints shining radiantly in the dimly lit church. Moved by the church's beauty, I paused to take it in before heading home to my new apartment. But people kept filing into the church; I realized had come in time for evening mass.
This church is near the university, and there were many young people in attendance. People kept coming and coming, and soon I found myself sandwiched next to a middle-aged couple and two young girls, hearing the constant sound of wooden folding chairs being unfolded and placed in every possible place. I watched with great anticipation as a choir gathered in the front of the church. What a treat! Though the Polish Church has an incredibly rich tradition, I have noticed that vocal liturgical music is not a forte. While I give credit to the congregations for typically singing without hymnals (can we in America say we know hymns that well?), vocal training is not often evident.
This choir, however, was comprised (as far as I could tell above the mass of congregational heads in front of me) of young people, presumably from the university, and they sang beautifully. Unaccompanied by an organ or any other instrument, their voices swelled and filled the huge space above the congregation. They led the entire mass this way, in Polish and Latin, leading the liturgical music. I sat in awe in this packed congregation in this gorgeous church as these young humans created these amazing sounds of worship and praise using just their voices and prayers. Though I stumbled to say "Peace be with you" in Polish and could only understand about five percent of the homily, the choir's worship - directly from their souls to mine - spoke loud and clear beyond the language barrier.
Let me assure you that the human voice – an instrument of the soul – is truly something powerful.
Peace and all good,
Sonja :)