Elvis and the Benedictines
and Holy Play
If Elvis is looking down from heaven, it must seem ridiculous to him, or at least funny. A grown man with gray hair singing All Shook Up at senior citizen centers. And to me it's kind of funny, too, because, well, it is funny. We have fun.
For me, singing Elvis songs is also a religious activity, Benedictine style. When I think of the kind of Christian I'd like to be, I often think of the Benedictines with their vow to live simply not extravagantly; to receive all people, including 'enemies,' as Christ; and to live a life of prayer, service to the world, and holy leisure. That's why I am an oblate (lay associate) at St. Scholastica Benedictine Monastery in Fort Smith, Arkansas.
Sometimes I go on retreat at their monastery, which now is home to about twenty-nine sisters. Occasionally I offer workshops for them. Recently I offered a workshop for the sister on prayer as ministry. I have so much more to learn from them than they do from me. But all is jazz-like and improvisational; we learn by exploring together. The photos above are from the workshop. The images of them extending their hands toward me are at the end of the workshop, where they offered a beautiful, sung blessing.
When I worship with the sisters, their liturgy is by all means traditional and Catholic. If I wished for a more "open and relational" liturgy where God is named "Mother" or "the Deep Listening" rather than "Almighty King," and where scriptural images of God as a Holy Warrior are avoided - I'd need to go to liberal Protestant church. But I really don't wish for that, although I suspect that, sometimes, the sisters do. I think there is a real difference between devotional language and spiritual sensibilities, and that the Benedictines share many "open and relational" or "process" sensibilities even as their language is different.
One thing for sure: I love them and learn from them, and I'm so glad they provide such a rich alternative to materialistic culture. I try to join them in living in the Benedictine way, as best I can, sharing in their commitment to service to the world and daily prayer, balanced by moments or holy leisure, or play. Oftentimes leisure and service to the world flow into one another. Which takes me back to Elvis.
As I said, I am also a singalong musician at several assisted living centers, assisted living centers, and memory care centers. Often, I am singing with people who have Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia and, together, we enjoy the familiar sounds of music they grew up with, Elvis, for example. Is it service? Is it playfulness? It's both. And, truth be told, prayer, too. They come together in the fun of being silly, crazy if you will, singing and dancing to All Shook Up.
Such singing, such praying, participates in the playful side of God. It's that side of God, which is nourished by moments of playfulness and joy, particularly when those moment help people feel more alive. Even the Holy One, even God, is moved, and dare I say shaken, by the pulsations of All Shook Up.
Whose soul is blessed when we sing the first lines of the song: "Well bless my soul what's wrong with me?" I know our souls are blessed, but I think God's soul is blessed, too. Nothing a good Benedictine wouldn't fully understand. Holy leisure is our way of participating in the playful side of God. It's the flip side of service to the world and prayer.
- Jay McDaniel, April 2021
For me, singing Elvis songs is also a religious activity, Benedictine style. When I think of the kind of Christian I'd like to be, I often think of the Benedictines with their vow to live simply not extravagantly; to receive all people, including 'enemies,' as Christ; and to live a life of prayer, service to the world, and holy leisure. That's why I am an oblate (lay associate) at St. Scholastica Benedictine Monastery in Fort Smith, Arkansas.
Sometimes I go on retreat at their monastery, which now is home to about twenty-nine sisters. Occasionally I offer workshops for them. Recently I offered a workshop for the sister on prayer as ministry. I have so much more to learn from them than they do from me. But all is jazz-like and improvisational; we learn by exploring together. The photos above are from the workshop. The images of them extending their hands toward me are at the end of the workshop, where they offered a beautiful, sung blessing.
When I worship with the sisters, their liturgy is by all means traditional and Catholic. If I wished for a more "open and relational" liturgy where God is named "Mother" or "the Deep Listening" rather than "Almighty King," and where scriptural images of God as a Holy Warrior are avoided - I'd need to go to liberal Protestant church. But I really don't wish for that, although I suspect that, sometimes, the sisters do. I think there is a real difference between devotional language and spiritual sensibilities, and that the Benedictines share many "open and relational" or "process" sensibilities even as their language is different.
One thing for sure: I love them and learn from them, and I'm so glad they provide such a rich alternative to materialistic culture. I try to join them in living in the Benedictine way, as best I can, sharing in their commitment to service to the world and daily prayer, balanced by moments or holy leisure, or play. Oftentimes leisure and service to the world flow into one another. Which takes me back to Elvis.
As I said, I am also a singalong musician at several assisted living centers, assisted living centers, and memory care centers. Often, I am singing with people who have Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia and, together, we enjoy the familiar sounds of music they grew up with, Elvis, for example. Is it service? Is it playfulness? It's both. And, truth be told, prayer, too. They come together in the fun of being silly, crazy if you will, singing and dancing to All Shook Up.
Such singing, such praying, participates in the playful side of God. It's that side of God, which is nourished by moments of playfulness and joy, particularly when those moment help people feel more alive. Even the Holy One, even God, is moved, and dare I say shaken, by the pulsations of All Shook Up.
Whose soul is blessed when we sing the first lines of the song: "Well bless my soul what's wrong with me?" I know our souls are blessed, but I think God's soul is blessed, too. Nothing a good Benedictine wouldn't fully understand. Holy leisure is our way of participating in the playful side of God. It's the flip side of service to the world and prayer.
- Jay McDaniel, April 2021