Requiescant in pace

That's Latin for "rest in peace," the reason that so many Halloween decorations include the abbreviation RIP. But don't worry, no more Latin from here on out.

In recognition of All Saints Day, this Sunday's choir anthem will be a selection from Rutter's "Requiem." Many people have heard it and recognize it as a favorite choral work. It has beautiful lyrical melodies, and the text is a powerful prayer of intercession as we remember family and friends who are no longer with us:

Grant them rest eternal,
Lord our God, we pray to thee.
And light perpetual
Shine on them forever.

We'll also be singing the classic hymn "For All the Saints," which was composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams. It has a great folk-song sound, and this Sunday I'll be playing several different variations on it as we sing its several verses. The concept is that the hymn will grow from a unison call to worship, symbolically like one voice in the wilderness, that will grow in intensity and volume to the final verse and its mention of the gates of heaven and all of the earth singing praise to God.

Last, a quick mention of the prelude. I'll be playing three movements from J.S. Bach's Fifth French Suite on the harpsichord. The French Suites are collections that are based on Baroque dance music. You might be able to imagine men and women in powdered wigs and period clothes. Or you can simply enjoy the upbeat music to begin your morning.

Don't forget to set your clocks back this weekend!

Musical heritage

The music at worship this week covered more than 300 years of music history, from Beethoven to Manz, from an old favorite "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" (ELW 803) to a relatively new hymn, "In All Our Grief" (ELW 615). Who would have guessed just from hearing it that the latter was composed in the 20th century?

I'd venture that Christian churches have wrestled with the challenge of what to say and sing in worship for 2000 years. For instance, I mentioned in a previous post the influence of Vaughan Williams on the Anglican church, and Pastor Ferro pointed out that the Church of England has their share of disagreements with his compositions and a troubled relationship with their musical heritage. (Read more in this article, if you're interested.) The ELW has been a cause of dissension within the Lutheran church, which brings me to my topic of the day: why does our organist hate "Shine, Jesus, Shine" so much?!

Yes, that particular hymn is my cliche punching bag, I will admit. What you don't know is that secretly in my heart I truly enjoy the rousing chorus. I can remember singing it at Luther Crest Bible Camp at an evening outdoor worship and being inspired by it. So what's the problem with it for regular Sunday morning worship?

My personal test for the quality of a hymn always begins with two questions:
1. Is the text appropriate?
(Including, does it expound proper Lutheran theology, not simply does it mention God.)
2. Is the music appropriate for congregational singing?

It is on the second count that I have my biggest issue with several selections in the ELW. In particular, "Shine, Jesus, Shine" has a tempo issue. If you sing the refrain fast enough to be exciting and uplifting, then the verses become completely unsingable. So the congregation is stuck with the choice of a compromise tempo, tongue-twisting verses, a depressingly slow refrain, or changing tempos (among the worst of sins to any trained organist).

I'm always reminded of my years as an organist for a Catholic church in Minneapolis. For that congregation, the hymn is perfect: the "vocal leader" would sing the verse into a microphone while a few members of the congregation perhaps mumbled along, and then a few more people would join in happily on the refrain. The Lutheran church, however, places a strong emphasis on participation. That is one of the reasons our music is based on the chorale - it has a regular beat and a predictable form, while allowing creativity for composers and arrangers.

Of course, we'll continue to sing some hymns that aren't my favorites, an experience we all have at some point over the course of the year. But we'll also sing my favorites and yours too. We add to our musical heritage and pass it on, simply doing our best week after week.

Happy Pi-Day weekend!

I'm letting my math geekiness show in my title, but I hope that you all enjoy Pi Day on Saturday.

This Sunday we're singing a hymn from the Bethany Hymnal that is arranged by Ralph Vaughan Williams (#1021, O God of Earth and Altar). Vaughan Williams was an English composer who lived from 1872 to 1958, and he is famous for, among other things, editing the Church of England's hymnal, published in 1906. His work on that volume shaped the sound of the Anglican church for the remainder of the 20th century.

Vaughan Williams especially loved to arrange English folk tunes as hymns, like the tune for this Sunday's closing hymn. It's also full of fantastic, earthy poetry, the kind of text you might miss on Sunday morning as you try to sing along.

The hymn's title alone points out that God is of the earth and the altar. Christ, the word made flesh, is a logical inversion of human dreams. After all, don't we love comic books in part because we want to have god-like powers? At Christmas, that story is inverted when God comes to earth, humbly becoming a God of earth.

I also want to draw your attention to verse 3, in particular. In a very Anglican way, it speaks of drawing together prince and priest. Beyond nationalism, though, the text asks God to tie us all together - what Lutherans might think of as the priesthood of all believers. In corporate worship, we join our voices together in praise. The poetry is beautiful, and the tune is a lovely, flowing folk tune. I hope you enjoy it. I'll close with the text of verse 3 as a text to ponder before, during, or after worship:

Tie in a living tether
The prince and priest and thrall;
Bind all our lives together;

Smite us, and save us all;

In ire and exultation,

Aflame with faith, and free,

Lift up a living nation,

A single sword to thee.