Songs for the Journey
Celebrating the Music of the Church
John Wilkinson
Third Presbyterian Church May 4, 2003
INTRODUCTION. Someone once said that when a person sings, they
are praying twice. (See Brian Wren, Praying Twice: The Music
and Words of Congregational Song, attributed to Augustine) It
is around that affirmation that we gather today, to celebrate
that gift of music, and the power of singing and music-making
in the life of faith. It is true that we celebrate such things
every Sunday when we gather, yet this Sunday, this weekend,
takes on special significance as part of Third Presbyterian
Church’s 175th anniversary events.
On Friday evening, members of the current Chancel Choir joined
with alums, many of whom have traveled many, many miles, for
a joyous banquet. A highlight of the banquet was the recognition
of Wilson Fitch’s 50 years of service with the choir, an extraordinary
accomplishment. There are many choir alums present with us this
morning – some are, in fact, singing with this massive and glorious
choir and some are present in the congregation. We welcome you,
and thank you for sharing your gifts in the worship of God over
many years, as well as this morning.
In many ways, we gather this morning as prelude to this evening,
when a grand concert will be held here as one of the major events
of our anniversary. It will be awesome – featuring our many
musical groups, tracing the history of music at Third Church
and including a presentation of Andrew Carter’s “Benedicite”
with full orchestra that you will not want to miss.
This morning provides a kind of bookend experience to this
evening’s choral and instrumental offering. When a person sings,
they pray twice, remember. So if the bulletin is not clue enough,
let me inform you that we will be singing just a little bit
this morning.
The basic premise is that our faith is a singing faith, that
music is at the core of the biblical witness, the fundamental
way that the people of God express themselves. Biblical songs
frame our liturgy this morning, from the Book of Revelation
calling us to worship to an old man’s song to the baby Jesus
sending us out. In between, we will sing the great hymns of
the faith, and hear several others, representing our tradition
across centuries, when our forbears in faith have sought to
capture something of the right praise of God, fully engaging
the human experience through instruments of praise and transformation.
It would be impossible to try to articulate all that music,
and specifically congregational hymn-singing, has meant and
means in the life of the church, and even silly to try. Rather,
what we will do is sing, in order to make theological affirmation,
in order to create a sense of community with ourselves and those
who have gone before us, in order, finally, to tap into some
sacred and cosmic gift, and return it to the one whose creativity,
grace and mercy called the world into being and calls us to
this place.
HYMN 328 “All Praise to God for Song God Gives”
READING Luke 1:68-79
SOLO (9:00) “How Shall I Sing to God?” Cary Ratcliff
ANTHEM (10:30 ) “Like as the Hart Desireth the Waterbrooks”
Based on Psalm 42, Herbert Howells
PSALM 96 sung as Hymn 217 “O Sing a New Song”
READING Luke 1:46-55
HYMN 376 “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling”
CONCLUSION. A singing faith connects us with Mary’s experience
upon hearing the good news. All she could do was sing. The same
could be said for people whose names would largely be forgotten
now if not for the sings they offered us: John the Baptist’s
father, Zechariah, blessing God at the birth of his son. Simeon,
an old man at the temple who had waited and waited, and who
now, holding the Christ child in his arms, offers a song of
praise. Or a man named John, imprisoned on an island, imagining
in a wild dream of faith angels singing and a new heaven and
a new earth.
It is to those experiences that we are connected through the
gift of song, and it is from those very experiences that we
sing now.
Remember, these are not all happy songs. Remember, the gift
we celebrate and for which we give thanks this day reflects
the fullest of human living. Remember that the same psalmist
who proclaimed “O come let us sing to the Lord, let us make
a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation” also asked “why
are you cast down, O my soul” and asked over and over again
for release from the pursuit of enemies. Remember that the same
church that signs “Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee” also sings
“Come, Ye Disconsolate, Wher’er You Languish.”
Eric Routley calls hymns “the folk songs of the church militant.”
(Hymns and Human Life) That is to say, this is the music of
the people, then and now, and it touches us where we live, our
fondest hopes and deepest aspirations, our heaviest sorrows
and most fervent yearnings.
Brian Wren writes that what we do here, sing as a group, in
an increasingly counter cultural experience. I would add that
gathering at all like this is counter-cultural; singing is simply
the icing on the cake. The world out there doesn’t do this very
often, or very well. That is not to be critical, but rather
invitational.
Because we who gather here know something. We know that when
we sing we connect with imagination and emotion, in ways that
words never can (something of a risk for me to say!) and even
in some ways that listening to sacred music can’t quite do,
or at least not do every time.
The communal, participatory nature of congregational singing
connects us with friends, with strangers, with their lives and
ours with theirs. We teach each other the notes of our faith
when we sing with one another.
The issue, of course, is not whether we can carry a tune. In
this place, we let the tune carry us, as we seek to be in tune
with the one whose great canticles of hope redeem us in every
mountain top experience and even in the valley of the shadow
of death.
At this evening’s concert, you will hear, and see, many wonderful
things. One of them is a song called “Hope for Resolution.”
It was written for Nelson Mandela and F.W. deKlerk as the evils
of apartheid in South Africa were just beginning to crumble.
But it does more than that. Not to give too much away, but it
connects a hymn now some 1700 years old (that’s ten 175th anniversary
celebrations, by the way) with African music in a way that will
do nothing less than inspire you. It is musical. It is political.
It is theological. It is emotional.
It is what we do, we the church, who gather with our thousand
tongues, who gather with ancient words of faith attached to
centuries old tunes attached to the momentary and contemporary
experience of our lives.
“God gave us music, gave us voice; Sing alleluia and rejoice!
We lift in faith secure and strong The sacred word through sacred
song.” Amen.
Prayer
Holy God, early in the morning our song shall rise to thee.
And so our song rises this morning, a song of praise and hope,
of yearning and imagination. You welcomed creation into being
this morning – the blooming tulip and the blossoming magnolia,
the chirping bird and rolling wave. And you gave each of us
breath this morning to sing your praise, to be in relationship
with you and our fellow travelers, from ever land and every
tongue.
Hear our prayer, gracious God. Hear our prayer for peace in
the world. Hear our prayer for leaders of the world’s governments.
Hear our cries for justice. Hear our song of hope.
We pray for our city, for the common good, for the welfare
of all citizens and neighbors, and particularly for those with
greatest need.
We pray for members of our own church family who need your
presence and healing touch this day – those who face sickness
of body or mind or spirit, those who face death or grieve the
death of a loved one. Heal them, and allow us to be agents of
your healing and reconciliation.
We give you thanks for the anniversary celebrations of this
congregation, and for this weekend, when we remember with gratitude
the vital import of music to the life of this congregation.
We thank you for singers and instrumentalists and directors
of eras past and of this present era – for their leadership
and commitment to a singing, and ringing, faith.
We thank you for all the saints, who from their labors rest,
whose notes of praise resound in our hearts and imaginations.
We thank you now for sings to sing, for friends to sing them
with, and a place to sing your praise. Draw us ever more fully
into that great choir, into that great symphony, that all our
work be praise, and every breath we draw is “alleluia.” For
we pray in Christ’s strong name and in the ancient words he
taught us, saying…Lord’s Prayer.
