As a kid, I always enjoyed reading the Beatitudes. They offer a clear path to happiness that even a clueless child like myself could appreciate. My favorite one back then was “blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” as I thought it would be so cool to actually see God. As I have grown older, the beatitude that has begun to stick out to me most is the first: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. As a student and a musician, there have been countless challenges where I have found myself lacking what is necessary to succeed. However, through these experiences I have discovered that there is a great peace that can be attained through learning how to accept your own limitations and completely trust in God. I would even argue that it is required for a good life, and especially for the production of meaningful art or music.
Someone who inspires me and exemplifies the first beatitude in her life is the 12th century abbess and polymath St. Hildegard von Bingen. She was an incredible woman known for her theological texts, works on medicine, and chant compositions for the liturgy. She is considered to be the founder of scientific natural history in Germany, and she remains the most recorded composer of chant in all of history. She wrote the first known morality play called Ordo Virtutum and even developed her own language based on her mystical experiences. Despite this, she was well aware of her limitations. She had no formal training in music or Latin and often referred to herself as “unlearned” or a “poor little form.” As someone who is interested in science and music, I would be happy if I accomplished only a fraction of what she did in her life. However, the most inspiring part of her story is how she let God animate her in her work. In the preface to her work, Liber Divinorum Operum she wrote the following allegory:
Hear this: There was once a king sitting on his throne. Around him stood great and wonderfully beautiful columns, ornamented with ivory, decked with noble adornments, and holding up the king’s court in glory and power. Then it pleased the king to raise a tiny feather from the ground, and he commanded it to fly.
The feather flew—not because it possessed any strength, lightness, or virtue of its own, but because the air bore it along and held it up. Thus am I: not a grand column, but a feather on the breath of God.
I think this quotation perfectly embodies what it means to be poor in spirit. In the medieval society that St. Hildegard lived, the educated and wealthy were the primary sources of development in music, science, and philosophy. Instead of being consumed with resentment or despair, Hildegard accepted her state in life and let God do His work in her life.
I have found this state of mind to be especially important as a musician. Throughout my time in college I have been part of our sacred music choir. The aim of our music is to raise up the hearts of the faithful to God through prayer and beauty. However, there are always a multitude of obstacles that can get in the way of this aim: sickness, distraction, tensions within the choir, and apathy. It can be really hard, in music and in life, to overcome failures and weakness. In my experience, our best musicianship and most moving music don't come from the days when it is easy for everyone; it comes from the times when we are struggling and offer our struggle up to God. These moments are completely exhilarating, and there is a great sense of freedom knowing that our success doesn’t depend solely on our own effort and skill. Our surrender also makes our music more personal and more human. Ultimately, in all things I think we should strive to become a feather on the breath of God, being led wherever He wills. And to do this, we simply need to trust in Him.