Thursday Doors: Where Charity and Love Are

I’m not a religious gal, but was raised as such, so the pretty songs in Latin always get me. Luckily, the choir I sing with does quite a few each season. Once choir’s season ended for the summer, I found myself singing them by myself. That’s fine, but when I heard about a sing-along being held by another choir, including one such song, I couldn’t wait for the heat of July to arrive (and that’s so not me).

ThursdayDoors DSFThe group offering the sing-along had many more members than my choir, and most showed up for the event. This group is auditioned, so I was eager to not only hear, but to sing with such seasoned music makers.

One of the songs on the agenda was originally a chant. The Latin-translated-into-English doesn’t move me, but the song itself, as arranged by Maurice Durufle, is lovely and that’s enough for me.

In advance of the event, I practiced with The YouTube so I could heartily sing along. On the day of the event, I wandered a few towns over and walked inside the red doors of this tiny little church I’ve passed a million times. I took the sheet music offered to me by a volunteer, sat down in a pew for the first time in years, and waited for some of my choir friends to join me. The air conditioner cut into in the walls of the old church was no match for a billion percent humidity. Then again, maybe it wasn’t that hot outside, but instead I was burning from sitting in a pew for the first time in decades.

Either way, despite the heat, I eagerly sang along when the song I practiced began. The first line of Ubi caritas means Where charity and love are, God is there, and I suppose that at least is a concept I can get behind (although I might call the big G something secular — Catholic school scars…).

Below, the red doors of the church and a video of the song that we, a group of almost 100, sang, performed beautifully by a quartet.

 

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This post is one of many through Thursday Doors by Norm Frampton. See other doors — from around the world — on his weekly linkup and/or on the Twitter at #ThursdayDoors. See more of my doors here.

24 Comments

    1. Twas amazing, Frank, and their volume nearly blew me out the door for a requiem we (they mostly) sang that night, too. Amazing.

      Ya know, my small choir is led by an Episcopalian (though we’re not church- or religion-affiliated…). You may be on to something.

      Liked by 1 person

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  1. Cool red!
    And…
    Nothing against Catholics or their schools – but we left our catholic school right when I was entering 1st grade and from the (many) stories I have heard – whew – so glad !
    Sounds like you have found your peace!

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  2. Great post. I’m sure you guys knocked it out of the park 😉
    Like you, I’m not a religious person either and yet I do have an appreciation for the art, architecture, and the music. I don’t know if that makes me a hypocrite but I really do enjoy listening to Latin/Gregorian chants, even though I have no use for the religious baggage they represent :-/

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    1. I know, right? I’m so not a church person but back in the day, idealistic me wanted to get married in that church. So adorbs! (that’s the right reason to want to get married someplace, right?)

      And yes, the small group o’ singers sounds larger. And Lovely. Glad you enjoyed.

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      1. Young me didn’t wanna get married. Even broke an engagement. Then I decided if I ever got married, I’d want an outdoor wedding and I had one in the blink of an eye. Decide you like single life, fall madly in love. Ain’t that the way? The problem with so many churches is that they have awful, awful people in them 😉

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        1. I had an outdoor one, too! We’re so twinsies. Of course, you’re still married, though, and happy about that. I’m not, and happy about that, too. 😉

          I know, right? There are awful people everywhere, but I find they do seem to stand out more in holy places.

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