The
church, built of stone and mortar, stands on a hill. The pews and kneelers are
old, wooden and creaky. Above the altar is the image of the Black Madonna of Częstochowa. One of the transepts is
filled with sunlight, and at its center stands a tall candle and a lectern
holding an open bible. On the wall hang three framed pictures, left to right:
John Paul II, Jesus, and the
Black Madonna. Mass was in Polish except for the gospel -- 1 Corinthians13:4-7 – which was read in English. That evening I asked the Polish woman who
did the reading why she chose English and she said, “We want to welcome
people.”
After the service, as the bride and groom stood in
front of the church having their picture taken again and again, I saw the
priest preparing to close the tall front doors of the church. I walked up the
steps, shook his hand and said, “Thank you, Father.” He smiled and said in
perfect American, “No problem.”
On the ride from the church to the hotel where the
reception was held, we passed townspeople who cheered and sang and waved Polish
flags. Using their hoses, the fire department shot arches of water over the
procession. I hear the reception was still going strong after 3 a.m. I left at
10 p.m. Two bands performed, including the folk musicians in costume who had
accompanied the wedding party. The other group played generic rock/pop/disco
sung in Polish. I recognized two songs, a medley of “By the Rivers of Babylon”
and Bobby Hebb’s “Sunny.” We were given photocopies of the music and lyrics to “Sto lat,” an all-purpose toast and salutation,
and virtually the informal national anthem of Poland. Every Pole in the room knew the
words. In English:
“A hundred
years, a hundred years,
May he (she)
live, live with us.A hundred years, a hundred years,
May he live, live with us.
Once again, once again, may he live, live with us,
May he live with us!”
With the
Germans, Canadians, English and Peruvians at my table, I helped mangle the Polish lyrics
with gusto. Much beer, wine and vodka, and a meal of endless courses. Adam Zagajewski writes in “Epithalamium” (Eternal Enemies, translated by Clare Cavanagh, 2008):
“Only in marriage do love and
time,
eternal enemies, join forces.
Only love and time, when reconciled,
permit us to see other beings
in their enigmatic, complex essence,
unfolding slowly and certainly, like a new settlement
in a valley or among green hills.”
eternal enemies, join forces.
Only love and time, when reconciled,
permit us to see other beings
in their enigmatic, complex essence,
unfolding slowly and certainly, like a new settlement
in a valley or among green hills.”
No comments:
Post a Comment