The end of the Creed series

This Sunday marks the end of the "summer season." That means it's our last Sunday with only one service, and it also means that Pastor will be finishing his sermon series on the Creed. Because of that, I'll be bringing back a prelude that I played on the first Sunday in June.

Over the course of the summer, I've played many composer's versions of the Creed. The very first one was composed by Samuel Scheidt, who was an early Baroque composer from Germany. He was a contemporary of Luther and a member of the generation that created an entirely new sound of German organ music. Of course, that style would flourish and reach its apex with J.S. Bach.

The piece itself, I must admit, is not particularly memorable. It's a simple three-part, fugal arrangement that is pleasant and meditative. I'm playing it not for its musical complexity but for the symbolism and the opportunity to pray and think back over the summer generally, and the Creed in particular. It brings us back full circle, and wraps up one season as we prepare for the next.

Traditional media

Lest you think I'm only following the Churchwide Assembly through modern technology, I want to share some of the traditional media sites as well.

First, the Minneapolis Star-Tribune has been doing a daily article that has drawn plenty of comments online. The latest one I've read can be found here. Here's a recent article from The Washington Post, and the Plain Dealer has gotten in the action only by quoting the AP from what I can find.

MPR's Midmorning show (once hosted by the brilliant Katherine Lanpher and now by the superb Kerri Miller) will devote an hour to the issue of gay clergy in general, with an eye obviously toward the ELCA votes this week.

I know some people may accuse me of pushing an agenda this week, but please note that I'm not telling anyone what to think. Furthermore, I'm fascinated by many of the issues before the Assembly. These meetings are as close as we'll ever come to one of the ecumenical councils. We aren't hammering out the language of the Creed, but we are passionately discussing aspects of our lived faith. No matter how you feel about any particular issue, that must be worth following.

One holy, catholic, and apostolic church

That phrase is getting thrown around a lot at the Assembly. People on all sides of all issues want to say that they represent the will of God and the true message of unity from scripture. I don't presume to know all of that, but I can't help noticing that the Creed is being used as a point of debate (or even attack). It's to be ready for such serious debates that we must study scripture and apologetics. We must be firm in our own faith, fully grounded in scripture and understanding. We may have different understandings, but at least we should be arguing from an informed and open-minded position that would make John Stuart Mill proud.

One blogger whom I respect (but disagree with) is Pastor Zip. Check out his take on Assembly issues at this link.

You might also be interested in Mark Hansen's Monday afternoon sermon. It's generally non-controversial, but just as I think it's important to hear multiple musical styles from multiple sources, it's good for the soul to hear or read different sermons and perspectives. The Assembly should feature some of the best preaching around, so keep checking back for more examples.

This Sunday - William Byrd's Credo

For the prelude this Sunday, I will be playing the Credo from William Byrd's mass for three voices. By hearing it on the organ, you'll be spared the Latin, but with careful listening you might still spot some of the key moments of the Creed.


The broadest thing you might notice is the three-part structure of the piece. The articles are fairly delineated, so you can likely hear the transition from Father to Son to Holy Spirit. During the second article, Byrd uses the basic motifs of descending pitches for death and faster, rising pitches for resurrection.


The musical structure is polyphonic, meaning the three voices are fairly independent of each other. They repeat similar musical phrases in a fugue-like way, while coming together in chordal structure for some of the main tenets of faith.


William Byrd's music is generally not well known, except among early music groups. He was an English composer, who lived from the mid 16th century until 1623. His personal faith is either unclear or varied over time - he composed Lutheran hymns in which he warned against the Pope, but he also composed various settings of the Catholic mass. Of course, being an Englishman of the time, he was active in the Anglican church as well. In fact, he spent much of his life as an organist, choirmaster, and composer for various Anglican churches.


Throughout his lifetime, Byrd's music was much esteemed; however, his compositions were largely overlooked from his death until quite recently. Early music scholars and performers helped bring back his music. I hope you enjoy the chance to hear the Credo, one small composition from a great composer and a chance to meditate on the text of Creed as we continue our journey through it this summer.

Pontius Pilate and Christmas

Pontius Pilate and Christmas?! How do they belong together?!

Well, last Christmas we at Bethany had a musical experiment at our Christmas services: the Proclamation of the Birth of Christ was sung at the beginning of the service. It wasn't exactly a big hit.

There are people and churches who are very interested in the ancient liturgies of the church and who can get very involved with the details of ceremony and ritual, usually involving plenty of Latin, candles, and incense. (This web page has an amusing list of comments/discussion about the Proclamation itself, while http://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/ is always interesting in general on various related subjects.)

I won't try to defend the chant or the Latin or the ritual (because I don't think I'll actually change anyone's mind), but I do hope that people can recognize the intent of the text and its inclusion last Christmas. On that night, we proclaimed the historical fact of the incarnation. For instance, Jesus was born in the 42nd year of the reign of Octavian Augustus. That should make everyone pause to consider in awe of the sweep of history.

The Creed in its own way points out the historical nature of our faith by mentioning Pontius Pilate. The Passion narrative took place in a specific place and time, within the context of its location and era. When we recite or sing the Creed that mention of historical fact serves a similar purpose to the Christmas Proclamation - without the long chant.

Book review

The New York Times recently published a review of Robert Wright's new book The Evolution of God. I've put it on my potential reading list, but I think it's number 3,428 on that list. It might be a while. So for now I'm simply reading reviews and second hand accounts as something to think about.

Wright's premise that God has "evolved" is prima facie heretical, of course, but our understanding has evolved, our religious practices and tolerances have changed, and of course our church music has been altered over the years.

I was thinking of two particular instances at Bethany. First, Pastor gave a sermon on the use of the word "father" in the Creed's first article. There is one word that we certainly understand differently today than the ancient Israelites, or even than our parents' and grandparents' generation. The fact that Mr. Mom is a cliche catch phrase demonstrates the chasm of connotation from even such trite fare as "Leave it to Beaver." In popular culture, father has gone from an all-knowing, benevolent dictator of the household who vanished daily for a mysterious "office job" to a kinder, gentler (perhaps too often bemused and fumbling) presence in the home. What should the metaphor of God as father mean to us today? Father as we see it today or as it was meant 50 years ago? Or 2,000 years ago?

We've also been discussing contemporary music, of course, and this week's service music stands in stark contrast to each other. Wednesday night we'll hear Buxtehude and Bach, while on Sunday we'll hear Aaron Copland and PDQ Bach, a transition from the 17th century to the 21st.

The book and its premise are meant to be controversial, but I hope people use that controversy to spark creative, deeper thinking and insightful discussions about the changing nature of religion and society today. If the title makes its way onto your nightstand, be sure to let me know what you think about it.

Christmas in July

On our journey through the Creed this summer, we have reached the recounting of the nativity: "He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary." Naturally, this gives us an excuse to sing "Joy to the World" in July.

I decided to extend the musical theme with the prelude. We can't have Christmas music without at least a nod toward Advent, right? So the prelude on Wednesday night will be Dieterich Buxtehude's "Chorale Fantasia on Wie Schon Leuchtet," known to us as "O Morning Star How Fair and Bright."

Buxtehude is an important name in organ music history. He was an organist and composer in Lubeck, Germany, in the late 17th century and was one of the greatest composers of the mid-Baroque era. His works had great influence on the next generation of better-known composers, including Telemann, Handel, and especially J.S. Bach. The prelude I'm playing is one of his best known works, and it develops the entire text of the hymn in a highly ornamented style. You might even open your hymnal to follow along.

Praise to the Lord (and a bit of Latin)

This Sunday we continued our way through the creed, reaching the Latin word omnipotentem. It's such a great word: omni, meaning all, and potent, meaning power or ability. Compare it with stem cells that are called pluripotent (having many powers/abilities) or ambassadors who are said to be plenipotent (full of power/abilities - at least we hope the best ones are). Only God is described as all-powerful, a semantic distinction that I think is both meaningful and purposeful. Isn't it fun seeing your vocabulary grow at church? And now we can all confidently recognize the opening words of the Creed: Credo in unum deum, pater omnipotentem.

In less geeky matters, I've been humming "Prase to the Lord, the Almighty" to myself all day. It's such a lyrical, singable hymn that can brighten an entire day. You may have noticed a moment in verse 4 where I played unison melody for the text "Let the Amen, sound from his people again." It's one of my favorite moments because it reminds me of the St. Olaf Choir singing F. Melius Christiansen's arrangement of the hymn.

I found a YouTube video of a very good high school choir singing that arrangement. (Apparently St. Olaf has taken down some videos due to copyright, so I couldn't find one of them.) It's about 4 minutes long, and I guarantee it will lift your spirits to hear it - and maybe even sing along.

This summer we're asking ourselves what we believe by discussing the Creed. I'm a firm believer that if a sentiment or belief is worth expressing, you can find a musical theatre production that fits the occasion perfectly. The best theatre exists to show us the heart of humanity - what we share in thoughts, emotions, and beliefs. (That isn't to say the music belongs in a worship service, of course, just to mention that inspiration can take many forms!)

With the opening of the Creed in mind, I scrolled through my ipod selections and came up with just a smattering of thoughts. Sure it's a long list, but I could come up with dozens more, as I'm sure any of you could too with your own play lists. Hum along if you can, and make your own list of songs about beliefs and convictions. Let music from all possible sources inspire you every day. Leave a note about a song that rouses your spirit.

From Spring Awakening, the story of teenagers struggling through adolescence in a religiously repressive community:
"I believe there is love in heaven, and all will be forgiven."

From Hair, the ultimate protest statement of a generation:
"I belive in God, and I believe that God believes in Claude. That's me."

From Miss Saigon, a woman expresses her longing for her lover to return:
"I still believe you will return. I know you will. My heart against all odds holds still...As long as I can keep believing I'll live."

From Wicked, the musical that turns The Wizard of Oz on its head:
"I do believe my life is changed for the better. Because I knew you, my life is changed for good."

Last, from our old friends from a previous post, The Altar Boyz:
"One beam of light is enough to see where you're going.
One wrong turn is enough to lose your way.
One choice is all you have to make.
One ounce of faith could save the day.
I believe."

Lingua Latina - Part 2

(Those of you with sharp eyes will notice the difference between Linguam Latinam and Lingua Latina and wonder if my typing skills have failed me. Alas, no, the Latin language is rife with inflections - little tacked on endings like the -m in this example.)

The Creed is one of those five "ordinary" mass parts that I would love to have our congregation recognize, in particular its opening line: Credo in unum Deum. (That is, I believe in one God.) Many of the preludes and communion pieces that I will play this summer will be based on some of the oldest Gregorian chants of this one line of text. Be sure to notice in the bulletin when that is the case, so that your ears can start to catch the famous opening line of the Creed. The marriage of music and text can make both increasingly meaningful, I hope, so that the prelude loses its role as "background music" and becomes an elevation of prayer.

Since this entry is about Latin, I don't want to skip the point that "credo" does give rise to the modern English word "credit." But there is a vast difference between the two beliefs. I'm currently reading a finance book that spends an entire chapter on the philosophy of theories and belief. The author takes great pains to point out that his book exists to establish the truth (and hence belief) in only declarative statements that can be verified through prediction and experimentation.

The word credit (to trust or believe in the repayment of debt) is to say that by your due diligence and research you believe that someone will be capable of repaying. Similarly, to say that you believe in the theory of evolution is to say that in your mind the preponderence of the evidence is on Darwin's side. These are examples of belief based on knowledge and perhaps even understanding or comprehension. To declare a belief in God, however, as in the opening line of the Creed is to say simply that you trust, not to say that you in any way know or understand.

Why do we need Creeds? Because Christianity has a complex, nearly incomprehensible doctrine of the trinity, of a God who is fully human. We can't wrap our minds around that; we can't prove it. But we can lay out its tenets in words and song: Credo in unum Deum.

Public Radio - Part 4, This I Believe

Last night was our first Wednesday night service of the summer and also the beginning of Pastor's weeks-long series of sermons on the Creed. Like all new ventures, it had its bumpy moments. I think most of those present would agree that ELW 411 need never be sung again, for one thing. The text may have been perfect, but the tune left much to be desired. Overall, though, the service was a great start to the summer.

In case you haven't noticed, I'm geeking out over the Creed this week. Pastor mentioned that in some quarters there is an anti-intellectual bias against the Creed, that it represents the imposition of beliefs. The Speaking of Faith interview that I mentioned earlier this week (and you really should listen to it when you have some time) takes aim at that argument. The guest points out that we have to be able to pass on an orthodox set of beliefs to future generations. What better way than to write them down in poetry and set them to music? The Creed provides a wealth of material for anyone interested in theology, history, poetry, or music. For a geek like me who loves all four, there is no better topic.

My other public radio topic for today is Edward R. Murrow's series titled This I Believe. He started the famous project back in the 1950s, but NPR has been replaying select essays from it. The project has also seen a renaissance with new essays being collected. Their website has a plethora of material. It's fascinating to hear how people strive to sum up even one belief and compare it to the beauty, simplicity, and depth of the Creed.

Public Radio Part 3 - Creed Kick-off

For most of this summer, Pastor will be preaching on the text of the Creed. If you want a jump start to thinking about the power, meaning, poetry, text, and theology of the creed I suggest you check out Krista Tippett's Speaking of Faith episode titled "The Need for Creeds." Her program is a weekly discussion that is among the most reasoned and intelligent religious dialogues today (or at least that's my humble endorsement of it). That particular installment discusses the hundreds and thousands of Creeds throughout history and lays a great foundation for the discussion that is ahead for us in the coming weeks.

I've been anticipating this summer's services because the Creed is an endlessly fascinating doctrinal statement. So many words in it reflect a battle against some long-forgotten heresy so that the text can represent the heart of our faith. (Incidentally, that's one more reason that the text is arguably more powerful in Latin, in which it lies closer to the intent of the authors.) The words that we can recite from rote memory every Sunday present a bold list of claims about creation, the nature of Christ, the doctrine of the trinity, and so much more.

The Creed is also poetry, though, and as such is closely related to music. Every congregation falls into its own cadence and rhythm for reciting the statements of faith. One of my favorite moments in the Nicene Creed is the insertion of the words "in glory" in the clause "He will come again, in glory, to judge the living and the dead." The extra rhythm of that triplet, with a slight accent on "glo" gives the phrase a beautiful lilt that transforms it from prose to poetry.

If you're not interested in listening to the entire program from Speaking of Faith, at least check out this Maasai Creed that uses the imagery of African tribes to describe the ministry of Christ. It's unusual, even foreign, yet inspiring and intriguing. I hope many of you will join us every Wednesday and Sunday this summer to join in the discussion and the music.