Month: December 2024

The year in music

I have to spend a lot of time thinking about music for my job. Honestly, though, much of what passes for sacred music in Unitarian Universalist circles these days is pretty dreary stuff. To avoid dreariness and boredom, this will not be a post about UU sacred music. Instead, here’s some of the more obscure music I’ve encountered this past year.

I’ll start with the ‘ukulele. This under-appreciated instrument still gets no respect, but there are some stunning players out there. Like jazz great Benny Chong, now in his eighties and still going strong. Here he is with bassist Byron Yasui on “Just the Way You Are.” Chong is also a fabulous solo player. Here he is playing “My Romance.”

Two men playing musical instruments
Benny Chong and Byron Yasui performing in Hawai’i (screen grab from video)

I’ve also been listening to Carmen Souza, who mixes traditional Cape Verdean music with contemporary styles. Here she is with “Amizadi” from her latest album. Souza writes: “For this song, I composed a Funaná [a traditional Cape Verdean genre] based on the story of Francisco Cruz, a.k.a B.Leza. This genre promotes fun and social interaction, so I called it Amizadi (Friendship).” Next, here she is solo, singing “Confiança & Bonança”, a video released on International Women’s Day 2024.

A woman singing
Carmen Souza, performing live in France (screen grab from video)

One of my musical obsessions this year has been handbells, because I started playing in our congregation’s handbell choir. Sadly, much of the handbell music you find online tends towards dreary Christian sacred music. Yawn. But if you look, you can find more interesting stuff. Like the Double Mallet Ringers, based in Hong Kong. Most of their ringers are professional music educators, they commission compositions, and they even have a resident composer. In addition to more serious music, they also do goofy covers like this.

Double Mallet Ringers, Hong Kong (screen grab from video)

Finally, So Percussion and Caroline Shaw released another new album together this year. What they do could be described as singer-songwriter meets avant-garde. Do their lyrics actually mean anything? Whatever, it’s incredibly refreshing music. Here’s the title track from their new album Rectangles and Circumstance.

There’s a lot of great musical creativity out there, from a variety of different cultures, in a variety of styles. Maybe the new year will bring some new creativity and variety to UU sacred music….

Addendum: I just have to throw in this piece I found today, by Kenyan sound artist Nyokabi Kariuki, “Raw Sugar” performed by the Brooklyn Youth Chorus.

Book worth looking at

In preparing for upcoming sermons, I’ve been reading some basic texts that I think provide the foundations for today’s lived religion for many Unitarian Universalists. I started with Nietzsche, because a great many Unitarian Universalists echo some of Nietzsche’s pronouncements about the death of God.

By the way, in Twilight of the Idols, the eighth of Nietzsche’s “Maxims and Missiles” is this: “From the military school of life. — That which does not kill me, makes me stronger.” Today this has become a much-repeated religious maxim. I wonder if people would repeat it so often if they knew that Nietzsche included it in one of his books.

In any case, although Nietzsche is actually quite a good writer, unlike many philosophers, the quality of his prose is inconsistent, and he can descend to bombast and even incoherence at times. Nor do I find him especially likable; perhaps the better word is, I don’t find that he is sociable; he doesn’t seem to like human society all that much. I can only take a few pages of Nietzsche before I need to read something else to clear my mind.

It occurred to me that Spinoza is another writer who must provide the foundations for much of today’s Unitarian Universalism — his insistence on reason and rationality, his advocacy for freedom of thought, and for democracy — we owe a great deal to Spinoza for being the first Western writer to articulate these values so well.

I had been introduced to Spinoza in an introductory philosophy class, and found him unreadable. A philosophy major who knew more than I told me that we were reading from a notoriously bad translation, but that it was the only English translation of Spinoza that was in print at that time. Whatever the reason, that class put me off Spinoza, and I never wanted to read him again.

But I discovered that Edwin Curley had published new translation of the Theological-Political Treatise in 2016. Curley is supposed to be a well-regarded expert on Spinoza. I thought I’d give his translation a try.

Curley’s translation turns out to be wonderfully readable, and relevant to today’s theological and political situation. Take, for example, this passage from Chapter XX, which has the chapter title, “It is shown that in a Free Republic, everyone is permitted to think what he wishes and to say what he thinks”:

“These examples show, more clearly than by the noon light, that the real schismatics are those who condemn the writings of others and seditiously incite the unruly mob against the writers, not the writers themselves, who for the most part write only for the learned and call only reason to their aid. Again, the real troublemakers are those who want, in a Free Republic, to take away the freedom of judgment, even though it can’t be repressed.”

Today, those who call themselves conservatives and those who call themselves liberals have both descended to condemning the writings of others; and have both tried to take away freedom of judgment. Both the conservatives and the liberals have advanced good reasons for condemning the writings of others. But, as Spinoza points out: banning books in libraries, or banning speakers from college campuses, really amounts to taking away freedom of judgment, even though that judgment can’t be really repressed.

I’ll end this post with one more quote from this same chapter, that could have been written about the recent U.S. presidential election campaign (note that “liberal studies” here does not mean politically liberal in the U.S. sense, but rather in the sense of the liberal arts):

“Liberal studies and trust are corrupted, flatterers and traitors are encouraged, and the opponents of [liberal studies and trust] exult, because a concession has been made to their anger, and because they’ve made those who have sovereignty followers of the doctrine whose interpreters they are thought to be. That’s how it happens that they dare to usurp their authority and right, and don’t blush to boast that they’ve been chosen immediately by God, and their their own decrees are divine, whereas those of the supreme powers are human, and therefore should yeild to divine decrees, that is, to their own decrees. No on can fail to see that all these things are compmletely contrary to the well-being of the Republic.”

In his day, Spinoza’s books were banned and he had to fear persecution by the religious and political authorities. No doubt he would suffer the same fate if he lived in the U.S. today. This sad reality may help explain why colleges are cutting philosophy programs: God forbid that there should be a course of study that might include a thinker like Spinoza.

Searching for Godel

I was buying books online from Seminary Coop Bookstore when I stumbled across a 2021 biography of Kurt Godel. My one exposure to higher mathematics was an undergraduate course in mathematical logic where the professor took us through the proof of the first of Godel’s two incompleteness theorems. Although I got a mediocre grade in that class, it was one of the highlights of my undistinguished undergraduate career. Maybe it would be fun to read a biography of Godel.

The biography was Journey to the Edge of Reason: The Life of Kurt Godel by Stephen Budiansky. I looked it up on Kirkus Reviews, which gave it a good review, calling it an “outstanding biography of a man of incomprehensible brilliance.” I ordered the book.

The biography opens with a kind of cheesy prologue telling of Godel’s conversations with a psychiatrist he was seeing towards the end of his life. The prologue ends on page 7 with Godel’s death. I didn’t think much of the proluge, but I wanted to know about Godel, so I decided to plow on with the rest of the book.

From page 7 to page 42, I learned nothing about Kurt Godel. Instead of telling us about Godel’s childhood, Budiansky gives a precis of the political and intellectual history of Austria and central Europe in the early part of the twentieth century. Then there are a few pages devoted to the ostensible subject subject of the biography — before the author turns away from Godel once again to write about early twentieth century central Europe. Thus, we learn almost nothing about Godel’s childhood.

Well, I thought, maybe there just aren’t that many sources about Godel’s childhood. That’s a common problem for biographers. Once Godel enters college, surely Budiansky will spend more time writing about Godel. But we actually get very little about what Godel was like in college, and a great deal about the people Godel met in college. I began to feel as though Budiansky either didn’t know anything about Godel, or maybe preferred not to write about Godel for some personal reason.

By page 97 — after a somewhat pointless digression about Ludwig Wittgenstein that went on for several pages, while again telling me nothing about Godel — I was growing bored. I skipped ahead to see what Budiansky had to say about Godel at the time he came up with his incompleteness theorem. Once again, it felt to me as though Budiansky wasn’t telling me about Godel himself, nor about Godel’s thought, but instead only about the milieu around Godel. It was also clear that Budiansky knew about as much as I did about Godel’s most famous theorem (i.e., not much), so I wasn’t even going to get an insight into the man’s intellectual achievements.

I’m giving up on the book, at least for now. Perhaps what I’m really looking for is more of an intellectual biography. Two of my favorite biographies are Ruth Crawford Seeger: A Composer’s Search for American Music by Judith Tick, and Hans-Georg Gadamer: A Biography by Jean Grondin; both these biographies were written by people who had expertise in their subject’s field, and could write intelligently about their subjects’ accomplishments. But additionally, both these biographies also center their focus on their subject. Budiansky doesn’t seem to know much about mathematical logic, nor does he seem to be able to keep his biography centered on Kurt Godel.

All this goes to show that you can’t always trust Kirkus Reviews.

Updated Greek Myths curriculum

I spent the last two days doing an update of the Greek Myths curriculum on my curriculum website.

Tessa Swartz, then 12 years old, and I developed this curriculum back in 2014. Teachers at the UU Church of Palo Alto did a field test in 2015, and I did a quick revision that year incorporating field test feedback. I was supposed to do a final edit the following year (2016), but that was the year my father died and I wound up dropping the project. Nevertheless, the curriculum continued in use at the Palo Alto church right up through the pandemic.

This final revision retains the same stories originally curated by Tessa and me in 2014. But the following changes were made: revised the lesson plans (some quite heavily); added more illustrations; upgraded existing illustrations; rewrote the introduction; and did an overall edit.

If you have any comments on the curriculum, please leave them here or email me.

A woman chained to a rack cliff, with a sea monster below her and a man hovering above her.
A new illustration just added to the Greek Myths curriculum: Andromeda chained to the rock. This is a detail from a Roman wall painting of the first century BCE, from the Boscotrecase, Italy (public domain image).

Remembering Maggi Kerr Peirce

I first met Maggi in 2003. It was at the opening celebration for the 2009 General assembly of the Unitarian Universalist Association, held that year in Boston. I went up into the balcony of the venue, where it was less crowded and I could be closer to the stage. I sat down next to a friendly-looking gray-haired woman, who soon struck up a conversation. We quickly discovered that we had both been born Unitarians — she into the Belfast, Ireland, Unitarian church, and I into the Concord, Massachusetts, Unitarian church (I was born just before merger with the Universalists, so it was still a Unitarian church). Next we discovered that we had a common acquaintance: I knew Maggi’s son, Hank, from theological school. By this time, we were chatting like old friends.

A month later I started a new job on the West coast. But two years later, I was lucky enough to be called as the minister of the New Bedford, Mass., Unitarian church, where Maggi was a key lay leader. In my four years in New Bedford, I grew to respect Maggi more and more. She was a skilled musician with an excellent ear. She valued education, and returning to college in her forties to complete her bachelor’s degree. She helped found Tryworks Coffeehouse in 1967 as a way to reach out to youth, and I heard over and over again how she had changed young people’s lives in her two decades running Tryworks. She was also the kind of lay leader a minister dreams of: she only gave compliments when they were deserved, so they really meant something; and when she had to let the minister (me) know that I had fallen short, she did so in a way that helped me do better the next time. Perhaps that was what I appreciated most about Maggi — she knew that people could do better, she wanted to help them do better, and she had some good strategies to encourage people to achieve more than they thought they could.

Maggi’s list of accomplishments is kind of stunning. There’s that college degree in midlife, and those twenty years directing Tryworks Coffeehouse. She was perhaps best known as a storyteller, receiving a Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Storytellers Alliance, but she was also a folksinger. She performed at the Smithsonian, the Newport Folk Festival, the Philadelphia Folk Festival, regularly at the Indian Neck Folk Festival, and on the old Prairie Home Companion radio show. I believe she also performed with Christmas Revels. She published her poetry in the local newspaper, and I especially remember a poem she wrote about the September 11 attacks. She published three books of stories, plus a memoir of her Belfast childhood in 2013, titled A Belfast Girl. She served as president of the board of First Unitarian in New Bedford, and president of that congregaiton’s Women’s Alliance. I honestly don’t understand how one person could be that accomplished, and have that much time and energy.

After I left the New Bedford church, I did what ministers are supposed to do, and I kept my contacts with congregants to an absolute minimum. But I was fortunate enough to see Maggi one more time. When Karen LeBlanc was installed as the minister of New Bedford a year or so ago, she asked me to come and give the prayer. Maggi was there (of course), and I got to talk with her briefly at the reception afterwards. Then in her nineties, she was just as charismatic, just as sunny, just as pleasant to talk with as always. That brief interaction left me standing a little straighter, and making me feel that I could keep doing better in my life. That’s the kind of person Maggi was.

More about Maggi — an obituary at First Unitarian of New Bedford — audio of a talk she gave in 2009 about Tryworks — 2016 profile on The Wanderer.