In what is now New Mexico, in the 16th and 17th Centuries, mission churches were established by Spanish colonialists among the native pueblos of the region. This historical process, transformative and painful, has been summed up with the phrase “Living Under the Bell.” Communities that previously marked time in their own traditional ways, attuned to their needs, suddenly had the regular, systematic, ringing of the mission bell sounding over their village and land, calling (and in many cases forcing) them to live in new ways and under an alien schedule.
At CDSP, we also live under the bell. Out of the window of my dorm room, right across a small garden space, I can see the bell of our All Saints' Chapel hanging above the chapel's red door. The bell is rung once each morning just prior to the onset of Morning Prayer at 7:30 a.m. It is rung again at 11:20, calling us to the daily Eucharist at 11:30. It is rung again at 5:20, to call us to Evening Prayer or Evensong at 5:30. Three times a day, five days a week we hear the bell and are called to prayer, or at least a brief moment of remembering our calling and purpose (even I don't make every one of the 15 services, though I do attend at least one a day). At mid-day and early evening, the bell is rung in an “angelus” format, 3 rings, prayer, 3 rings, prayer, 3 rings, prayer, 9 rings (a trinity of trinities followed by a trinity of trinities!).
When you have chosen to live under the bell, it is a lovely thing. For me, it helps me to remember the bigger picture in the midst of trying to knock off reading, assignments, and other tasks. Hearing also fills me with joy over who we are. No other school in the Graduate Theological Union prays and worships publicly as much as we do. It is a particularly Anglican and Episcopal approach to work, life, and study, and our bell calls that out to the world. I am enjoying it while I can! The trick will be to leave here and be that bell in the world; a bell of joy, mystery, and praise, while not being a bell of oppression and colonization.
Posts
3 comments:
Matt: Your words about living under the bell take me back to a five-day visit to Israel when in college. Not knowing anything about Islamic culture, and thinking of Jerusalem as the Holy City of my tradition, I was truly frightened when, at sometime in what felt like the middle of the night, I was awoken to the call to prayer from the minaret that was very close to the small cot upon which I was sleeping in a French Catholic convent. It was horrifying, but became over the next few days, orderly. (And I was never awaken by it again, actually.) The next morning, when I learned what it was all about, I began to get a glimpse of the complexities of the Holy City, and, eventually, this crazy thing we call faith.
The Islamic tradition has often been ridiculed in Western societies for the ritualistic stopping for prayer all day long. But reading your words, I am struck with the absolute beauty, the necessity of being called to stop, to orient, to acknowledge with humility and supplication our place within the world. If only we were to hear the bell and say a prayer for those closest to us -- whom are rarely with us -- it could be transformative.
Thank you for your blog. We are with you in spirit.
I'm commenting partly because I really liked this post, but mostly because the nerd part of me couldn't handle "1 comments" being written under your post.
I loved reading about living under the bell in a less frenetic way than I've thought of it before. The bell. It's always been dashing here, trying to make it there ... stress, stress, stress. This kind of acknowledgment of time seems peaceful to me. Learning should be a peaceful experience that gathers speed systematically.
Post a Comment