Mary's Magnificat

 

In today’s gospel passage from Luke, we hear the familiar pre-Christmas story of the angel Gabriel visiting Mary. He tells her that she will conceive a child (a great surprise to her!) and that her baby will be the holy Son of God. It’s a familiar story that we hear every year at this time.

The part of the story we don’t get in this excerpt is Mary going to visit her cousin, Elizabeth, who is also unexpectedly pregnant. During this visit, Mary delivers a monologue that has come to be known as “Mary’s Song of Praise” or simply by the Latin name “Magnificat.” The full text of Mary’s Magnificat is:

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” (Luke 1:46-55)

Our hymn today is a contemporary paraphrase of Mary’s Magnificat called “My Soul Cries Out With a Joyful Shout.” Carl Daw writes about this text, “From the very beginning it is evident that this is no tame paraphrase of the Song of Mary. It identifies with, and draws energy from, the deeply revolutionary implications of what it means for the mighty to be put down from their thrones and for the lowly to be lifted up.” Interestingly, the first three stanzas address God while the fourth stanza shifts its focus to address other people of faith. Here’s the text in full:

1 My soul cries out with a joyful shout
that the God of my heart is great,
and my spirit sings of the wondrous things
that you bring to the ones who wait.
You fixed your sight on your servant’s plight,
and my weakness you did not spurn,
so from east to west shall my name be blest.
Could the world be about to turn?

Refrain:
My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near,
and the world is about to turn.

2 Though I am small, my God, my all,
you work great things in me,
and your mercy will last from the depths of the past
to the end of the age to be.
Your very name puts the proud to shame,
and to those who would for you yearn,
you will show your might, put the strong to flight,
for the world is about to turn. (Refrain)

3 From the halls of power to the fortress tower,
not a stone will be left on stone.
Let the king beware for your justice tears
every tyrant from his throne.
The hungry poor shall weep no more,
for the food they can never earn;
there are tables spread; every mouth be fed,
for the world is about to turn. (Refrain)

4 Though the nations rage from age to age,
we remember who holds us fast:
God’s mercy must deliver us
from the conqueror’s crushing grasp.
This saving word that our forebears heard
is the promise which holds us bound,
till the spear and rod can be crushed by God,
who is turning the world around. (Refrain)

For me, it’s a powerful re-rendering of Mary’s song with an ever-helpful social justice bent. The refrain especially foreshadows what we all know is about to happen (“the dawn draws near”) in the coming days of Christmas (“the world is about to turn”). Enjoy!

Advent -- Light and Dark

One of the paradoxes of Advent for me has always been the notion of light and dark. Each year, as we march our way through the season, we grow closer and closer to the winter solstice – the longest night of the year. Or, said another way, the day with the least amount of light. At the same time, week by week, we add more and more light to the Advent wreath. We decorate our homes and Christmas trees with lights. Many folks add candles to their window sills. As the world grows darker and darker, we work hard to make our lights brighter and brighter. All of this, of course, in anticipation for the coming of the Light of the World on Christmas.

 

This idea is further explored a bit in our hymn today, “In the Depth of Winter’s Darkness.” It was written almost exactly 30 years ago, on December 19, 1990, by PC-USA ruling elder Joy F. Patterson of Wisconsin. This was an unfamiliar text to me until this year, and we’ve chosen to pair Patterson’s text with the familiar tune of the Christmas carol, “Angels From the Realms of Glory.” For me, the dark/light imagery is even more prevalent with the contrast of this peppy tune. Here’s the full text:

 

In the depth of winter’s darkness, lost in gloomy shades of night,
all humanity stands watching, waiting for God’s promised Light.
Alleluia, alleluia, come, Lord Jesus, quickly come. 

Now the time of preparation—with repentance, hope resolve,
let us ready minds and spirits for the Christ who comes in love.
Alleluia, alleluia, come, Lord Jesus, quickly come.

Once he came, and still he’s coming, mystery both new and old—
what the hour of his new Advent prophets and not known or told.
Alleluia, alleluia, come, Lord Jesus, quickly come. 

Doing justice, showing mercy, praying, praising, let us wait
so that we may greet his coming ready for the Daystar’s Light.
Alleluia, alleluia, come, Lord Jesus, quickly come.

 

As our days grow shorter and shorter (and darker and darker), I hope this text helps illumine your Advent path. Enjoy!

"Prepare the way, O Zion"

 

Our Advent hymn today comes from the Scandinavian country of Sweden. “Prepare the Way, O Zion,” first published more in 200 years ago (1812) in Stockholm, is considered one of the great Advent hymns to emerge from the Church of Sweden – a former state church and the largest Lutheran denomination in Europe. It was originally seven stanzas in length but is now most often published in the 3-stanza version that we have in Glory to God.

 

For me, this is one of my earliest memories of a hymn specific to the Advent season. As an organ nerd, admittedly, it could well be the organ arrangement I remember that features the melody played in dissonant intervals meant to imitate the “honking” of a semi traversing the open road – a nod to an earlier version of the hymn’s title: Prepare the Royal Highway. However, I also appreciate the hymn’s rhyme scheme and multiple Biblical references.

 

The hymn’s author, Frans Mikael Franzén, employs the same rhyme scheme throughout each stanza of this hymn, each consisting of four lines – three for each individual verse and a common fourth line refrain that follows. The three verses published in our hymnal are:

 

Prepare the way, O Zion, your Christ is drawing near!
Let every hill and valley a level way appear.
Greet One who comes in glory, foretold in sacred story.
Refrain: O blest is Christ who came in God’s most holy name.

He brings God’s rule, O Zion; he comes from heaven above.
His rule is peace and freedom, and justice, truth, and love.
Lift high your praise resounding, for grace and joy abounding.
Refrain: O blest is Christ who came in God’s most holy name.

Fling wide your gates, O Zion; your Savior’s rule embrace,
and tidings of salvation proclaim in every place.
All lands will bow rejoicing, their adoration voicing.
Refrain: O blest is Christ who came in God’s most holy name.

 

You’ll notice in each stanza the first two lines rhyme with each other – near/ap-pear; a-bove/love; em-brace/place. Franzén then uses internal rhyme (meaning there’s a rhyme scheme within the same line) for the third line of each stanza as well as the fourth line (refrain) – came/name. In the case of the third line, he takes the rhyming a step further and uses a two-syllable internal rhyme each time – glory/story; re-sounding/a-bounding; re-joicing/voicing. In my opinion, this gives the text momentum as the stanzas move along.

 

Finally, the text’s Biblical references make this a perfect hymn for the Second Sunday of Advent and the readings from Isaiah and Mark. In the first stanza, we get a reference to the prophetic voice of Isaiah (“foretold in sacred story”) as well as allusions to the Old Testament reading, Isaiah 40:1-11: A voice cries out: ‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain...’ (vs. 3-4). This same sentiment is later expressed by John the Baptist and written about by Mark in today’s gospel reading, Mark 1:1-8: As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, “See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight...’” (vs. 2-3).

 

I hope singing this hymn today will help enliven your Advent journey a bit. If you listen closely, perhaps you’ll even hear a couple of those “semi honks” in the musical offering!

JS Bach's "Wachet Auf..."

 

One of my favorite organ pieces for the Season of Advent – J. S. Bach’s Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme – opens our service this week. The German title is often translated “Wake, Awake, a Voice is Calling.” After all, isn’t that sentiment partly why we live so fully into Advent? We are urged to be alert and prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ.

 

This chorale prelude of Bach’s comes from his collection known as the “Schübler Chorales,” so named for the engraver – Johann Georg Schübler – who published this set of six chorale preludes towards the end of Bach’s life (around 1747). None of the six pieces in this collection began their lives as organ pieces. Instead, they were movements from some of Bach’s many cantatas that he wrote during his tenure in Leipzig. Bach selected these six movements to be transcribed from their cantata (three musicians, often two instruments and a singer) to pieces for organ (one musician).

 

In Wachet auf..., you’ll notice a catchy, dance-like theme at the outset (played by the right hand) paired with a harmonic framework (played in the pedal). In the original cantata, this would have been high strings/violins and low strings/cello, respectively. The left hand remains unneeded until several measures into the piece and then only sporadically throughout. This is because the left hand is playing the part of the original cantata movement that would have been sung by a singer; in this case, a tenor, who would have sung the chorale melody phrase-by-phrase in the original cantata. So, when the chorale melody comes in, the left hand plays in the tenor register on a trumpet stop. No doubt Bach specified one of the loudest stops of the organ for this “voice” as a means of painting the text of the chorale: Wake up! A voice is calling!

 

I hope this piece helps you begin this season with a smile. I find it hard to listen to without doing so myself!

Christ the King Sunday

If you are an avid reader of this blog, you may recall a post here a few months ago describing the beginning of the Season of Pentecost. (See https://musicatpcd.blogspot.com/2020/06/the-season-of-pentecost.html) Well, here we are some 5+ months later at the conclusion of the season – in a liturgical day known as Christ the King Sunday. It only seems good and orderly to conclude the season in a similar way to which I began it here.

 

As the longest season of the liturgical year, Pentecost starts 50 days after Easter and ends the Sunday before Advent begins – a day also known as Christ the King Sunday. In some ways, CtK Sunday is the church’s New Year’s Eve because the new liturgical year begins next week on the First Sunday of Advent. The Episcopal Church’s online glossary describes CtK Sunday as “celebrating Christ’s messianic kingship and sovereign rule over all creation.” This denomination also offers a prayer on this day that God, “whose will it is to restore all things in your well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords,” will “Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin, may be freed and brought together under his most gracious rule.”

 

But where did Christ the King Sunday come from? (After all, there’s no mention of this liturgical day in the Bible!) Believe it or not, Christians have only been celebrating Christ the King Sunday for just under a century. It was established as a Catholic feast day in 1925 by Pope Pius XI. David Ouzts explains:

In the aftermath of World War I, Pope Pius noted that, while hostilities had ceased, true peace had not been restored to the world and the different classes of society. His first encyclical (a papal letter sent to all bishops of the Roman Catholic Church) after the war was Ubi arcane Dei consillo (“On the Peace of Christ in the Kingdom of Christ”) in December 1922. He deplored class divisions and overt nationalism, and he maintained that true peace may only be found under the Kingship of Christ as the “Prince of Peace.”

 

In 1925, the pope formally introduced and established the Feast of Christ the King in his encyclical Quas primas (“In the First”): “When we pay honor to the princely dignity of Christ, men will doubtless be reminded that the Church, founded by Christ as a perfect society, has a natural and inalienable right to perfect freedom and immunity from the power of the state; and that in fulfilling the task committed to her by God of teaching, ruling, and guiding to eternal bliss those who belong to the kingdom of Christ, she cannot be subject to any external power.”

 

I think you will find the service music this week that exemplifies this notion of Jesus Christ as King over all. I’m grateful to Casey Tibbles for her artistry and collaboration. May the music enrich your Christ the King Sunday, and... Happy New Year!

Fred Pratt Green

Our offertory this Sunday – “Harvest Hymn” – features a text by one of the last century’s most prolific hymn writers: Fred Pratt Green. (For an interesting discussion of this particular text, check out: https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-for-the-fruit-of-this-creation.)

 

Fred Pratt Green’s life encompassed nearly the entirety of the 20^th century. Born in 1903 near Liverpool, he enjoyed a long career (44 years) as a Methodist minister before turning his attention to hymn writing. Nearly all of his 300 hymn texts were penned during the 70s-80s, after his retirement from the ministry. He died peacefully in Norwich, his retirement home, at the age of 97 in 2000.

 

Pratt Green’s interest in hymn writing during his retirement may have been a very logical hobby. After all, he had only recently completed some four decades of pastoral ministry and was well-versed in theology. He was also an amateur poet and playwright, so the two – creative writing and theology – seem to combine well into the creation of hymn texts. Because his background was in preaching and church administration, his hymn texts are relevant to the contemporary church and often fill a void of topics not often covered by other hymn writers of the past.

 

His “Harvest Hymn” – now usually referred to by its first line, “For the Fruits of This Creation” – is one of FPG’s hymns most often chosen by hymnal committees in the United States. Indeed, it is included in Glory to God. C. Michael Hawn explains: “...published as “Harvest Hymn” in the British Methodist Recorder in August 1970, this hymn combines our gratitude to God for the bounties of the earth with our responsibility to care for our neighbor through “the harvests we are sharing” (stanza 2). Green’s concern for justice and spreading a social gospel is almost always evident in his hymns.”

 

In our service this weekend, I’m joined by my friend, Zack Morris, in the offering of this text. It is set to a familiar Welsh tune, Ar Hyd Y Nos, which means “throughout the night.” Enjoy!

Felix Mendelssohn's "Songs Without Words"

 Do you ever get bogged down and/or completely overwhelmed with the amount of information thrown your way? As folks living in the ‘digital age,’ it is nearly impossible to escape it: print news stories about the pandemic, reports on the radio about the election, friends’ anxiety-ridden social media posts, emails, text messages, a barrage of advertising everywhere, and the list can go on... Words, words, and more words.

 

If we rewind time by 200 years and go ‘across the pond’ to Germany, we’d find ourselves in Felix Mendelssohn’s world. Mendelssohn was a prolific composer who wrote in a variety of media, including choral, orchestral, chamber, and keyboard works. A staple of his compositions for piano are sets of pieces he called Lieder ohne Worte, or in English, Songs Without Words. In total, he wrote 48 of these Songs Without Words, and they are divided into eight books of six each. Two of the books were published posthumously. (The opus numbers of the eight books are: 19b, 30, 38, 53, 62, 67, 85, and 102.)

 

In a week, where we’ve again been inundated with words, messaging, reporting, etc., I thought we might do well to experience some music without any sort of subtext. In other words, music for music’s sake that frees the listener to interpret and think about whatever passes through their mind. Mendelssohn himself said of his Lieder ohne Worte:

If you ask me what I had in mind when I wrote it, I would say: just the song as it is. And if I happen to have certain words in mind for one or another of these songs, I would never want to tell them to anyone, because the same words never mean the same things to others. Only the song can say the same thing, can arouse the same feelings in one person as in another, a feeling that is not expressed, however, by the same words.

 

These pieces are some of my favorites of the entire piano repertoire – both for playing and for teaching. I’ve included two of these Songs Without Words as part of our service this weekend. I hope you enjoy them as well.