Spirituality of Nursery Rhymes

Guest Writer: Isabel Anders

What’s Behind Nursery Rhymes?

Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?

Most of us are quite familiar with the sing-song lines of the classic Mother Goose rhymes that have been collected, illustrated, altered, and pondered for meaning over the years—and even centuries in some cases.

When you read some of the supposed origins and hidden messages in the folksy lines about blackbirds and puddings and a cow jumping over the moon, you realize that it wasn’t always safe (and indeed, it isn’t in our time) to openly express political views, especially criticism of the government and royalty. So the supposedly innocuous lines of nursery fun have come down to us with their multifaceted histories tucked behind them—or built into symbols we still ponder even as we sing them.

Is the Mary of the above-referenced garden the Virgin Mary, or Mary Queen of Scots, or a symbol of women and the importance of their fertility in the Garden of Life? We don’t have to know how to pick up the rhythm, sing the lines using hand motions, and pass on their colorful word pictures to a new generation, often at bedtime.

Whatever anonymous author first launched these often incongruous images—a garden yielding “pretty maids all in a row”?—they surely emerged from an intuitive, free-associative letting go. On the other hand, perhaps they originated in someone’s fertile unconscious, as images can seem to pop up for all of us out of nowhere. 

For some months, the images that come to me unbidden, often in that veiled state between sleeping and waking, tell me something about my life. They have been starting points for discussions with my spiritual director, who knows my history and current personal issues. Sometimes, they surprise both of us with their concise accuracy.

Picture language can resonate within us. Images such as the sometimes bizarre juxtapositions in Nursery Rhymes—a pie of singing birds, a cat playing a fiddle, a dish holding hands with a spoon—speak to us in ways we can’t always break down into words. There are deeper truths that nature, animals, and the earth itself sing out all around us, and we sift and interpret through our human interest grid. 

Maybe simply being open to the fantastical happening has something to do with spiritual progress. Perhaps we never totally outgrow our awe at probing the deeper origins and unexplained mystery of finding ourselves human in the world. 

As we consider these familiar rhymes, accepting the confusion and the revealing that sit side by side in our popular folk tradition—we might ourselves sometimes feel “quite contrary.” We’re questioning “the way things are,” we’re open to seeing new connections—and we’re working spiritually to keep our garden growing.

Isabel Anders has authored various books, including two collections of mother-daughter wisdom dialogues: Becoming Flame and Spinning Straw, Weaving Gold, and a book recently with Tracy Grant, Wisdom from Little Women: Louisa May Alcott.

Isabel Anders

Joanna Seibert   https://www.joannaseibert.com/

C.S. Lewis: The Great Divorce

C. S. Lewis: Great Divorce

“There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says, in the end, ‘Thy will be done..”’—C. S. Lewis, The Great Divorce.

The Great Divorce is Lewis’ classic study of the difference between living in heaven and living in hell. In hell, people become increasingly isolated and separated from each other until they lose all communication. Then, before the great distances develop, there is a bus stop where groups of people in hell can go to heaven on a tour bus ride to decide if they want to live there instead. Spoiler alert! Only one person stays in heaven. The rest return to their life in hell. It is a choice.

With each character, Lewis describes what keeps each of us in hell. My favorite is the bishop, whose intellect holds him in hell, as he must return to hell because he is scheduled to give a lecture he does not want to miss. Other characters remain in hell because they cannot recognize joy. Others see all the difficulties in life as someone else’s fault. Some stay connected to their material goods, which mean the most to them. Some find people “beneath them” in heaven. One sees heaven as a trick. An artist must return to hell to preserve his reputation.

The Great Divorce is an excellent study for a book group, especially in Lent, for people to share which characters they most identify with. Lewis hands us a mirror to see where we fail to recognize we are still controlling the show and living in hell, or where we have forsaken the gifts of heaven on this earth.

Chant, The Music of Silence

Silence, Waiting for dolphins, Chant

“When chant music stops, sometimes quite abruptly, an audible silence reverberates throughout the room, especially in the high arches of the oratories in which it is sung. If we listen carefully, we discover that chant inducts us into this silence, that is the ground of our being.”—David Steindl-Rast, O.S.B., The Music of Silence.

We sit silently on a balcony overlooking the Gulf in the early morning, watching, waiting for the sunrise, waiting for the dolphins to make their first run. Then we wait for a line of pelicans to sweep silently by. The rhythm of the waves is like a heartbeat. Today, it is a slow heart rate. At home in Arkansas, when the weather is warmer, we sit with our son and his family on his back deck as the sun sets behind the trees of his backwoods, and wait for the hummingbirds to come and feed before they finally rest for the evening.
Nature seems to call us to wait, to wait. Our own heartbeat slows. Our body seems to say we are connecting to something greater than ourselves. Our mind wants to repeat Julian of Norwich’s famous words, “And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
We are ready for whatever comes. We think. Maybe. The dryer stops working. We know whom to call for help, and we wait again for the repair workers to arrive. We pray to take time between tasks between breakdowns.

What do we do between sunrise, dolphin, pelican, sunset, and hummingbird times?
Another suggestion is waiting for the heartbeat of music, especially the “silence between the notes” of Gregorian chant. One of the earliest popular versions is CHANT by the Benedictine monks of Santo Domingo de Silos. If you get “hooked,” you may want to read their companion book, The Music of Silence, by Brother David Steindl-Rast, O.S.B., which may lead you to a desire to follow in some form the canonical hours or seasons of the day. Another book is simply called CHANT, by Katharine Le Mee, who tells you more about the origins, form, practice, and healing power of Gregorian Chant.

It is incredible where silence can lead us!

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/