The Party that Endures
Here’s a little painting of the Eternal Party come to the Mughal Emperor Akbar’s court: a famous Indian miniature painting, featuring the interreligious dialogue that came to characterize the Mughal Court of those days. Akbar, who ruled in India from 1556-1605, fancied himself a wise and cultured ruler, inviting into his court and conversation the Jesuit missionaries Rodolfo Acquaviva and Francisco Henriques (the two figures in black on the left side of the image). This is a scene from the Ibadat Khana, a special temple constructed in his capital at Fatehpur Sikri, for religious dialogue and debate.
It’s noteworthy that Akbar, while he is a prominent and unmissable figure, draped in a golden robe, attended by servants, sitting on something of an elevated platform, is not the center of attention, but a participant in the dialogue, a convener of the conversation. At the heart of the image is an unrolling scroll, overflowing into the intricate vines that decorate the golden floor, and serve as the ground on which all of the religious leaders, each from their diverse sects, sits as they share their views, each with their holy texts at their sides.
What would it have been like for Acquaviva and Henriques to sing raise their “songs, hymns, and spiritual songs” in that chamber? Did they declare, like Joshua, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord?” or was their posture a more humble, “To whom shall we go?”
We do know their witness was winsome: the Jesuit presence in the Mughal court lasted for generations. They brought with them artifacts of the Christian culture that had sprung up in Europe, which contributed to the minor renaissance in the high Mughal period. (Consider, for instance, this painting of Akbar’s grandson, the Emperor Jahangir, contemplating a portrait of the Virgin Mary). But we might lament as well how fleeting this moment was: if for a moment, we see unity and diversity, brought together in a spirit of openness and mutual respect; a feast that delights in the sweetness of shared wisdom, nourishing the souls of all who partake; we know that this noble aspiration did not endure, and many went away sad, as they often do, when they don’t find the Christ they were longing for. But for our part, may the Lord give us grace that we never be barred from his table.
"The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot."
- Psalm 16:5
Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Texts for This Week
Prayer
Let your continual mercy, O Lord, cleanse and defend your Church; and, because it cannot continue in safety without your help, protect and govern it always by your goodness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Scriptures
Joshua 24:1–2
Psalm 16
Ephesians 5:15–6:9
John 6:60–69
Sailing into night
Pärt Uusberg's "Õhtul" (Evening) invites us into a musical feast, where melody and harmonies weave a tapestry of remembrance and longing. Unlike the fleeting pleasures of a party jam, this is a robust and shimmering song that fully embraces the weight of our reality, carrying us along a sense of journey, a sailing off into the night.
“The little bird quiets with the wind,” the choir sings, “The flower sleeps in the embrace of dew, The dusk blushes, kissing the night. Memory and silence, the forest trees asleep, Only my little song lingers, like a memory when silence sails far away.”
Sõuab kaugele – the phrase rhythmically repeated at the song’s climax – means “sails away” – silence sails away, sails away, sails far away.
They intone, then, the verse a second time, more subdued, and descend into quiet humming.
The gentle, yet poignant, interplay of voices reflects the complex emotions we often grapple with - the bittersweet mixture of joy and sorrow, certainty and doubt. There is a haunting quality to the music, as if it is beckoning us to look beyond the surface and engage with the deeper mysteries of our existence – to sit, and to listen.