Monday, October 8, 2007

Drums in Platón


Rhythm and dance at twelve noon:

When the Dominico-Haitians gather in El Platón late Sunday morning, you might expect them to have no energy for lively music and dance. After all, most of the churchgoers have arrived on an empty stomach and will eat only one meal that day. On top of that, these are "oppressed" people who often suffer from policies dictated by both their own government back in Haiti and their newly adopted country. They ought to be sad and have long faces, right? Well if you could hear those men playing the drums...

A Eucharistic Celebration:

Catholics are accustomed to a strange use of words in a normal Sunday Liturgy. We refer to it as a "celebration" when nobody seems to be really celebrating; when people enter with long, sad faces and leave pretty much as they entered. Witness, by contrast, the enthusiasm with which these men play the "palos" or drums as we might call them. Even the most stolid, rigid person would have trouble not moving to the rhythm of those drum beats!

Life as celebration:

The psalms tell us that all of creation rejoices and praises God. We hear the psalmist asking the trees, mountains and water creatures to praise the Lord. The way these men play the drums when Manuel, the local catechist gives them the nod, comes as close as a people can get to finding the rhythm into praise. The beat conveys a liveliness and zest that other instruments and even whole choirs would find it hard to equal. Do we carry this sound deep in our genes? Why is it so appealing -- a global language of movement and praise!

Drums as a spirituality of resilience:

In the Mass, the priest invites the People of God to "lift up your hearts". He conveys this invitation by lifting up his hands. But when a Liturgy of Praise and Thanksgiving is enhanced by the "palos", that invitation to lift up hearts gets magnified and transformed into a rhythm. The music of these hand made, simple wooden instruments becomes sacred music. What a gift the Lord has given to people who do not have the luxury of attending Mass in impressive Cathedrals or master works of Church architecture! Others might conclude that when it comes to honoring God, the poor immigrants in El Platón have practically nothing to offer. But they know how to give the Lord lifted hearts that resound in music, rhythm and lively song. Is this a case of the "last" ending up being first?