Jennifer Rothschild

The Cantus Firmus

Romel Joseph, a Haitian violinist, learned he was completely surrounded by rubble and chunks of broken concrete solely by groping in the darkness. He felt through the wreckage that enclosed him to confirm he was utterly confined by debris. The school which he founded and where he taught crumbled around and upon him during the massive earthquake that shook Haiti this month. He was encased in total darkness, but darkness was not unfamiliar to Joseph, for the gifted musician had been blind since birth. "I was completely surrounded by concrete," he said. "So, in my head I knew I wasn't going to get out."

The Juilliard graduate realized very quickly he was stuck. There was no way he could get out on his own. But amazingly, he didn't panic. Instead, he drew upon the resources he knew would help him survive. He explained to an NPR reporter that he tried to keep a very strict schedule. A portion of every hour that passed, he spent in prayer. He then spent the second part of each hour rehearsing his favorite classical music pieces. In the stifling heat and darkness of that rubble and hopelessness, he reviewed each song, note by note, in his head.

"For example, if I perform the Franck sonata, which is 35 minutes long in my honors recital at Juilliard, then I would bring myself to that time," Joseph told NPR reporter Guy Raz. "That allows me not only to kill time, but also to mentally take myself out of the space where I was."

Joseph rehearsed symphonies and concertos in his mind for 18 long hours. He heard each note, sensed the pitch, kept the rhythm and felt the music. Finally, his friends were able to clear the debris that was crushing his leg and mercilessly confining him. Joseph was rescued and flown to Miami where he's recovering from multiple surgeries.

He lost his school, and so sadly, he also lost his pregnant wife in the quake. He may have lost the use of his left hand to the falling debris that crushed it, too. Only time will tell. But what he had in his darkness and fear, what he had when he had nothing else, was the music in his heart, and it sustained him.

We, too, have a song within us when our world shakes and falls around us. The song we hear on the inside must be louder and clearer than any noise that threatens to distract or terrify us from the outside. There are times when we are surrounded by dark despair and stifling imprisonment. There are times when our world crumbles around us. There is no light. There is no hope. There is no way of escape. We simply feel alone in the desolation of our own souls. But within that solitude and trap, there can be a song. A persistent melody we can listen to and sing along one note at a time. It can be the cantus firmus of our very lives. The cantus firmus, which means "fixed song," is a pre-existing melody which forms the basis of a polyphonic composition. Though a song may twist in pitch and style, the cantus firmus is the enduring melody throughout the entire composition. Though it may not always be in the forefront, that one melody line prevails through every ebb and flow, every change in rhythm, every tempo variation. For one who believes in and follows Christ, the cantus firmus is the very peace and presence of God. The Psalmist recounted: "...at night his song is with me." And that song was "a prayer to the God of my life." (Psalm 42:8)

The more clatter that fills my world and the more melodies that compete for my attention, the louder I hear the cantus firmus resounding in my head and heart. My cantus firmus is God Himself. "The LORD is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation. " (Exodus 15:2)

How would I survive 18 hours in the solitary confinement of concrete rubble and crushed dreams? Would it be the cantus firmus in my heart that would sustain me? How do I survive the darkness of my own world, the confinement of my weaknesses, and the rubble of my own despair? The cantus firmus. There is no other melody.

What is the melody of your life? What is your cantus firmus? If it is any other than God Himself, I fear it will not sustain you in your darkest hour. But, when He is our cantus firmus, His melody will endure long after we, the frail, poor choristers, cease to sing.