Chintzy Chasubles

Thanks to Ron for pointing this out:
Chintzy Chasubles. If you come across any good ones, I think the blogger would appreciate pictures!

Holy Week

We've come to perhaps my favorite time of the Christian year, which is Holy Week. Besides the final week of Lent and the anticipation for Easter, the services of Holy Week are wonderful times of reflection and praise—Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday (although many churches, my own among them, have no vigil, which decimates the Easter triduum—a topic for another time).

Part of the moving nature of Holy Week is the wonderful hymns that get sung—"O Sacred Head, Now Wounded," "Ah, Holy Jesus," "Go to Dark Gethsemane," and, on Palm Sunday, "Ride on, Ride on in Majesty," "All Glory, Laud and Honor" and many, many more. Many of these hymns have survived in the English language in large part due to the Oxford Movement, the group of high-church Anglicans who sought to reform the church back to a more highly liturgical past. Such luminaries as Edward B. Pusey, John Henry Newman, John Keble, Henry Manning, Robert Wilberforce, and others were highly influential in the movement.

Hymnologically, it was largely this movement that provided for English singers the rich history of Latin, Greek, Russian, Syriac, German, and many other hymns. John Mason Neale was the biggest influence in this, and it is his work that started me thinking about the Oxford Movement this week. "All Glory, Laud and Honor," the great hymn for Palm Sunday, is part of his corpus. He translated it from the Latin of Theodulph, Bishop of Orleans, famous for his treatise on the term filioque. It's usually sung to ST. THEODULPH by Melchior Teschner, and harmonized by William H. Monk (who, interestingly, harmonized several of the other hymns I mentioned above).

The first verse was originally presented as a refrain, but now the hymn is presented with two verses together, leaving only three total.

All glory, laud and honor,
To Thee, Redeemer, King,
To Whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.

Thou art the King of Israel,
Thou David’s royal Son,
Who in the Lord’s Name comest,
The King and Blessèd One.

The company of angels
Are praising Thee on High,
And mortal men and all things
Created make reply.

The people of the Hebrews
With palms before Thee went;
Our prayer and praise and anthems
Before Thee we present.

To Thee, before Thy passion,
They sang their hymns of praise;
To Thee, now high exalted,
Our melody we raise.

Thou didst accept their praises;
Accept the prayers we bring,
Who in all good delightest,
Thou good and gracious King.

I'm interested that so many of the hymns for Holy Week and Easter are of the more ancient variety (at least, before the 18th century), like this one. Others include "O Sacred Head," "The Day of Resurrection," "Jesus Christ is Risen Today," and many more. These hymns appear in most denominational and nondenominational hymnals. It seems that this is one time when, in celebrating the central feast of the year, Christians are united in singing the same fabulous texts, which antedate the division of Protestant and Catholic, and, in many cases, of Eastern and Western Churches. I was especially reminded of this in thinking about all the Christians who have been blessed by these texts throughout the centuries from the times in which they were written—as the creed reminds us, the communion of saints, praising God in heaven and on earth.

An Upcoming Forum

If you're in the Princeton area, there's a forum next Monday night, March 26, in which I'll be responding to a paper, "Baptism: The Recognition of Christ's Spirit." It should be interesting. The paper itself is by a theology student, and there's myself, a New Testament scholar, and a student from Duke responding.

It's the Koinonia Annual Forum, "Is Baptism a Sacrament?" and it starts at 7:00 p.m. in the Gambrell Room of Scheide Hall (#17 on this map) at Princeton Theological Seminary.

A Hymn from this Past Sunday

Besides teaching and getting a dissertation prospectus turned in, I of course am still a church organist. This past week we sang "If You Will Only Let God Guide You," yet another hymn that is often sung during Lent, solely because it's in a minor key. The three verses in our hymnal, Hymns for the Family of God, really have little to do with Lent at all. Here's all the verses, as Catherine Winkworth has translated them:

If thou but suffer God to guide thee
And hope in Him through all thy ways,
He’ll give thee strength, whate’er betide thee,
And bear thee through the evil days.
Who trusts in God’s unchanging love
Builds on the rock that naught can move.

What can these anxious cares avail thee
These never ceasing moans and sighs?
What can it help if thou bewail thee
O’er each dark moment as it flies?
Our cross and trials do but press
The heavier for our bitterness.

Be patient and await His leisure
In cheerful hope, with heart content
To take whatever thy Father’s pleasure
And His discerning love hath sent,
Nor doubt our inmost want are known
To Him who chose us for His own.

God knows full well when time of gladness
Shall be the needful thing for thee.
When He has tried thy soul with sadness
And from all guile has found thee free,
He comes to thee all unaware
And makes thee own His loving care.

Nor think amid the fiery trial
That God hath cast thee off unheard,
That he whose hopes meet no denial
Must surely be of God preferred.
Time passes and much change doth bring
And set a bound to everything.

All are alike before the Highest:
’Tis easy for our God, We know,
To raise thee up, though low thou liest,
To make the rich man poor and low.
True wonders still by Him are wrought
Who setteth up and brings to naught.

Sing, pray, and keep His ways unswerving,
Perform thy duties faithfully,
And trust His Word: though undeserving,
Thou yet shalt find it true for thee.
God never yet forsook in need
The soul that trusted Him indeed.

Our hymnal, as many others, includes the first, third and last verses, albeit in a more modern fashion which takes Winkworth's translation and removes archaicisms. It was originally written by Georg Neumark. Like many chorales, Bach used this text and tune in several of his works, as shown on the Bach Cantatas website. You can also see the German text of the first verse, "Wer nur den lieben Gott läßt walten," as well as some older tune settings.

I always hear congregations that sing this drone along as slowly as humanly possible. That really bothers me, because the text itself is not mournful—rather, it's a text of hope (even the second verse, although it's definitely darker than the rest). Even though trials and other bad things might be happening, God will bring a time of joy and comfort. If you read the biography of Neumark above, you know that this hymn was written after he was robbed of all his worldly possessions—an event of great trial for anyone.

However, the tune itself reminds me much more of the dance corrente than a mournful dirge. Its triple meter, when played and sung at a quicker tempo, becomes much more lively and dancelike. Considered in that quicker tempo, it becomes much more like the dancing music of Michael Praetorius (e.g., the courantes of Terpischore) or of Samuel Scheidt (e.g., the correntes of Ludi musici—and, I'm avoiding a discussion of the finer points of corrente and courante, since even those two composers seem a little unsure of any difference) than of the dirge it usually is.

So, even after my lively introduction to the hymn on Sunday, by the end of the first line of text the congregation was several beats behind. What is it about minor keys that equals slow in peoples' minds? The organ is such a wonderful instrument because it's easily followed, but, hymns such as this (and Jesus Priceless Treasure, which I've discussed before) always end up plodding along. That's incredibly frustrating, because in a time in which some see hymns as boring, it helps little to sing them in a manner that makes sure they are. If you happen to sing this, please notice the text and sing it with some hope in your heart and in your voice!

A Lenten Hymn

I was asked last weekend what my favorite hymns were. After naming "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty," which is definitely my favorite, there's a large group of hymns that I like fairly equally well. I started naming them—"O Sacred Head, Now Wounded," "Jesus, Priceless Treasure," and several others immediately came to my mind. I quickly realized there's a big pattern in my favorites, though—with some British exceptions (notably ones with tunes by Vaughan Williams and Parry), most of the hymns I like best are of the German Lutheran variety. I'm not sure what has caused that, but I think it's probably a combination of J.S. Bach and the German Church Music class I took with Robin Leaver.

That said, there's some really great German Lenten texts. One of my favorites is "Christ, the Life of All the Living" (Jesu, Meines Lebens Leben) by Ernst C. Homburg. Catherine Winkworth translated it into English in Christian Singers of Germany (which I've discussed before). Here is Winkworth's translation:

Christ, the Life of all the living,
Christ the Death of death, our foe,
Who Thyself for us once giving
To the darkest depths of woe,
Patiently didst yield Thy breath
But to save my soul from death;
Praise and glory ever be,
Blessèd Jesus, unto Thee.

Thou, O Christ, hast taken on Thee
Bitter strokes, a cruel rod;
Pain and scorn were heaped upon Thee,
O Thou sinless Son of God,
Only thus for me to win
Rescue from the bonds of sin;
Praise and glory ever be,
Blessèd Jesus, unto Thee.

Thou didst bear the smiting only
That it might not fall on me;
Stoodest falsely charged and lonely
That I might be safe and free;
Comfortless that I might know
Comfort from Thy boundless woe.
Praise and glory ever be,
Blessèd Jesus, unto Thee.

Heartless scoffers did surround Thee,
Treating Thee with shameful scorn
And with piercing thorns they crowned Thee,
All disgrace Thou, Lord, hast borne
That as Thine Thou mightest own me
And with heavenly glory crown me.
Thousand, thousand thanks shall be,
Dearest Jesus, unto Thee.

Thou hast suffered men to bruise Thee
That from pain I might be free;
Falsely did Thy foes accuse Thee,
Thence I gain security;
Comfortless Thy soul did languish
Me to comfort in my anguish.
Thousand, thousand thanks shall be,
Dearest Jesus, unto Thee.

Thou hast suffered great affliction,
And hast borne it patiently,
Even death by crucifixion,
Fully to atone for me;
Thou didst choose to be tormented
That my doom should be prevented.
Thousand, thousand thanks shall be,
Dearest Jesus, unto Thee.

Then, for all that wrought our pardon,
For Thy sorrows deep and sore,
For Thine anguish in the garden,
I will thank Thee evermore;
Thank Thee with my latest breath
For Thy sad and cruel death,
For that last and bitter cry
Praise Thee evermore on high.

I like this hymn because while the text itself is moderately dark, describing at length Jesus' suffering so that we do not have to, the tune is almost cheerful. That combination describes how I feel about Lent in general—in fact, it's one of my favorite times of the Christian year (OK, so I actually like it all). But, as a time in which introspection is encouraged, and in which we can focus on Christ's immense love for humanity, there is that tension of remorse and sorrow for our own sin, while, at the same time, a sense of joy for what Jesus did. I think people forget, sometimes, that Christianity is a joyful religion, even during Lent, when people have given up something dear to them, the "alleluia" is absent, and minor key hymns are dug out of the hymnal.

These hymns that do appear at Lent are, by and large, hymns with great theology and great gospel messages. I wish we'd sing them more often, and, to that end, "Christ, the Life" might be a good candidate, since it's in a major key. I think that is what hampers many of these hymns—their minor quality, which leaves many uncomfortable with them. What others would be useful throughout the year?