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Gentle readers, I have a confession to make: I am not ready for Pentecost hymns.

I mean, it seems silly, right? Here I was complaining about how many centuries I was spending in our Christmas section, so you’d think a short Easter section would suit me just fine. But no, I am not ready to leave Easter yet. I think part of it’s that this afternoon I’ll be digging in to some thoughts on Easter with Michael Tino (I’ll post a Hymn by Hymn Extra when I get the video edited either late today or sometime tomorrow), but part of it is that while Easter is just one Sunday, I feel like I want more options for Easter songs so we’re not singing the same three tunes every single year.

But no, cruel fate has me turning the page and jumping right into Pentecost. And I feel unprepared.

Now for the few readers I have who don’t know what this season is, here’s a quick and dirty description, from Wikipedia:

The Christian holiday of Pentecost, celebrated on the fiftieth day after Easter, commemorates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles and other followers of Jesus Christ while they were in Jerusalem celebrating the Feast of Weeks, as described in the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 2:1–31). Some Christians believe this event represents the birth of the Church, while others maintain that the Church already existed prior to Pentecost.

For Christian clergy friends, this is a big deal – red shoes, red vestments, balloons and streamers. It’s a celebration. It’s joyful, spirited music and dancing and all kinds of joy.

And this hymn isn’t that.

It isn’t to say this isn’t a good hymn that (a) remains largely untouched from the original and (b) isn’t lush, thanks to a Ralph Vaughan Williams tune. It’s also no Every Time I Feel the Spirit, which to me is the ultimate Pentecost hymn (which appears in a completely different section, of course).

Here are our lyrics, a translation of the words by 15th century monk Bianco da Sienna:

Come down, O Love divine, seek thou this soul of mine,
and visit it with thine own ardor glowing;
O Comforter, draw near, within my heart appear,
and kindle it, thy holy flame bestowing.

O let it freely burn, till earthly passions turn
to dust and ashes in its heat consuming;
and let its glorious light shine ever on my sight,
and clothe me round, the while my path illuming.

And so the glory strong, for which the soul will long,
shall far outpass the power of human telling;
for none can guess its grace, till we become the place
wherein the holy Spirit makes a dwelling.

By and large, the lyrics remain in tact from Frederick Littledale’s translation. We change “yearning strong” to “glory strong” and we are the place wherein the holy Spirit makes a dwelling, not he (which is awkward theology anyway). And… we omit this rather contrite, confessional verse:

Let holy charity mine outward vesture be,
And lowliness become mine inner clothing;
True lowliness of heart, which takes the humbler part,
And o’er its own shortcomings weeps with loathing.

I don’t think I mind its omission at all; not that I think we shouldn’t have confessional moments in our liturgies, but this verse isn’t in our theologies, so I’m glad it’s gone. Still worth noting it exists somewhere, though.

I like the hymn a lot. I love the musical turn in the third phrase. I love the idea that the Spirit lives in us, that the divine spark glows from within.

I just wish it were as joyful as my Christian friends insist the holy day really is.

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Image: Pentecost Sunday at St. Mary’s Basilica in Minneapolis.

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Fred’s back, with another Eastertide hymn that isn’t actually an Easter hymn. This one was published in 1904, and set to a 19th century English tune called Lancashire.

To be clear: I really like this hymn text. And I love that Hosmer thought to include Passover in his text. And even more, I used this as the title of my 2015 Easter sermon. I love that Hosner’s words focus on joy and life eternal.

O day of light and gladness, of prophecy and song,
what thoughts within us waken, what hallowed mem’ries throng!
The soul’s horizon widens, past, present, future blend;
and rises on our vision the life that has no end.

Earth feels the season’s joyance; from mountain range to sea
the tides of life are flowing, fresh, manifold, and free.
In valley and on upland, by forest pathways dim,
all nature lifts in chorus the resurrection hymn.

O Dawn of life eternal, to thee our hearts up-raise
the Easter song of gladness, the Passover of praise.
Thine are the many mansions, the dead die not to thee,
who fillest from thy fullness time and eternity.

I also know that members of the congregation I’ve been serving feel like they can access the Easter message in this hymn without having to be invested in the Resurrection… which I call a win.

I know this one will feature in my upcoming conversation with Michael Tino (tentatively scheduled for Wednesday – look for a Hymn by Hymn Extra) – because I know I have questions about how we treat a central part of Christianity, and I know Michael has opinions. In the meantime, sing away – this one’s joyful and a bit of an earworm.

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This is a first: I don’t think I have ever done a spiritual practice on an airplane, no less one that requires making noise and annoying other passengers. The good news is that I am surrounded by fellow Unitarian Universalists on our way home from General Assembly, and my immediate seat mate sang along with me for a moment. (The other good news is that tomorrow we’ll be back on the morning schedule.)

I feel like I want to wait to talk deeply about the theology of this one for when Michael Tino and I have our Easter/spring theological conversation later this week. But I should note that the last line of the first verse is “nature wakes from seeming death” – a line that is awfully laden with a theological perspective that takes all the mystery out of the moment.

And here’s the truth, for me, anyway. This is a great hymn to sing, and it’s awfully fun for the season of Easter, which coincides within a few weeks of the spring equinox. But it is not an Easter Hymn.

Anyway… we will continue this debate on what is resurrection is and isn’t. Meanwhile, from 30,000 feet above the earth, here are the lyrics, by Frederick Lucian Hosmer:

Lo, the day of days is here, Alleluia!
Festival of hope and cheer! Alleluia!
At the south wind’s genial breath — Alleluia!
Nature wakes from seeming death, Alleluia!

Fields are smiling in the sun, Alleluia!
Loosened streamlets seaward run, Alleluia!
Tender blade and leaf appear; Alleluia! ‘Tis the spring-tide of the year, Alleluia!

Lo, the Eastertide is here, Alleluia!
Music thrills the atmosphere. Alleluia!
Join, you people all, and sing — Alleluia!
Love and praise and thanksgiving, Alleluia!

I do really like these lyrics, by Unitarian minister Frederick Hosmer, which capture the joy of the day. We’ve seen plenty of his work, in Now While the Day in Trailing Splendor, I Walk the Unfrequented Road, I Cannot Think of Them as Dead, From Age to Age, Forward Through the Ages, as well as tomorrow’s hymn, O Day of Light and Gladness, and Thursday’s O Prophet Souls of All the Years. Somehow, except for the one I really don’t like, I have been remiss in noting our lyricist, and that’s a shame, because we have from Hosner mostly wonderful lyrics, and they continue to be meaningful to me. So here’s to you, Frederick Lucian Hosmer. Thanks!

And while the text could easily be sung to the traditional Easter Hymn (see yesterday), I like that we have an alternative setting with Llanfair; it’s similar but distinct enough to set it apart with another dose of joy. Plus, who doesn’t want to sing alleluias in all shapes and forms? (I admit here and now, I’m a sucker for alleluias. Something about a word of praise, set over and over in simple and complex settings, that just gets me going.)

Anyway – it’s a great song for Eastertide, even though it’s maybe not really an Easter Hymn.

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Live from New Orleans – it’s Hymn by Hymn with Friends! Today’s guest is the sweet Rev. Katie Kandarian-Morris.

What a great conversation! We sang this hymn and realized that even ministers don’t always pay attention to all the words – and it’s easy with this joyful tune, to get caught up with the fun of singing it and not pay much attention. In our conversation, which I will post tomorrow (I’m running into some technical issues with my cloud storage), we talked about that, plus how much we struggle with the theology of Easter (and a colleague’s solution), and Katie even shared a story or two about one of our other hymns. Plus, if you do listen, you’ll get a preview of a conversation I’ll be sharing later this week.

What I am glad of, though, is that we do have this hymn, which I love singing on Easter Sunday and really no other time of the year unless you’re doing a series like this. Here are our lyrics:

Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia!
Earth and heaven in chorus say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply, Alleluia!

Love’s redeeming work is done, Alleluia!
Fought the fight the battle won, Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids him rise, Alleluia!
Christ has opened paradise, Alleluia!

Hearts are strong, and voices sing, Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!
As he died his truth to save, Alleluia!
Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!

Soar we now where Christ has led, Alleluia!
Living out the words he said, Alleluia!
Made like him, like him we rise, Alleluia!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!

I can’t help it. I love this tune, I love this song, I love how fully we dive into the Easter message here. We last sang the tune to lyrics by our man Sam Longfellow, a lyric I have sometimes used on Easter to help those struggling with Easter to think more broadly about resurrection. But WOW I love this lyric, by Methodist co-founded and prolific hymn writer Charles Wesley; they say he wrote over 6,500 hymns – must be some kind of record.

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Today’s the last of my New Orleans conversations – what this has proven to me is how wonderful it is to sing hymns with others, and how personal they are, despite the communal experience. I’ll be doing more of this here and there, but tomorrow, it’s back to the solitary practice. Hope you enjoyed it!

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Live from New Orleans – it’s Hymn by Hymn with Friends! Today’s guest is the fantastic religious educator Katy Carpman. 

I am sorry this is late and incomplete – the day has utterly gotten away from me. I am thrilled, however, that you can listen to our conversation here. And … Katy actually did some homework in preparation of our conversation! Loved our time together. (A few thoughts of my own after the text). 

When Mary through the garden went,
there was no sound of any bird,
and yet, because the night was spent,
the little grasses lightly stirred,
the flowers awoke, the lilies heard.

When Mary through the garden went,
the dew lay still on flower and grass,
the waving palms above her sent
their fragrance out as she did pass.
No light upon the branches was.

When Mary through the garden went,
her eyes, for weeping long, were dim.
The grass beneath her footstep bent,
the solemn lilies, white and slim,
these also stood and wept for him.

Remember how I wasn’t upset by the lack of rhyme in O Come, All Ye Faithful? Well, that moment has passed. There’s rhyme here, lots of it, but DEAR GOD “PASS” AND “WAS” DO NOT RHYME.  Bless her heart, lyricist Mary Coleridge tried. But wow, that sits badly on my hear.

Otherwise, how much do I love that Mary Magdalen gets her own song? A celebration of her role in the Easter story finally! She goes to the upper room to tell the disciples the tomb is empty, and then shares some of the teachings she received from Jesus. Peter the Mansplainer can’t handle the fact that he might have told her anything he didn’t tell the rest of the guys and gives her a warning. But still, she persisted, and as the Gospel of Mary shows, she spoke about the Soul and Mystery in a way only a woman could, and at least Levi told Peter to sit down and shut the hell up.

The tune, which we last sang just before Christmas – in the spring and summer tunes section, of course – is a lovely German tune that, as I remarked before, is simple and hardly dull at all.

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Live from New Orleans – it’s Hymn by Hymn with Friends! Today’s guest is the sweet Rev. Marcia Stanard. 

We had such a great conversation, wherein we challenged ourselves to lean into the particularities of ALL the world’s theologies, including Christianity. We also talked about the connection between resurrection in nature – I shared a fascination with the resurgence of Mt St Helens – and the resurrection of Christianity. 

Perhaps most interesting to me, from the beginning of our conversation, which you can listen to here, was Marcia’s observations about a change we made to the first line of the second verse. We sing “Love by hatred slain” – but the original line is “Love whom we have slain.” I thought the change was good – and it is – but Marcia offered a “yes…and,” suggesting that the changed line could be read as removing our responsibility for the culture that saw Jesus as a threat… othering the evil as though we have no part in it. Take a listen and see what you think of this perspective. 

Of course we also talked about the tune, and hymnody in general, and the possibilities of a book that could emerge from this, and hopes for a hymnal commission, and a bit about the stories I am gratefully receiving from Mark Belletini. I hope you’ll listen. 

Meanwhile, here’s our text: 

Now the green blade riseth from the buried grain,
wheat that in dark earth many days has lain;
Love lives again, that with the dead has been:

(Chorus)
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

In the grave they laid him, Love by hatred slain,
thinking that never he would wake again,
laid in the earth, like grain that sleeps unseen:

(Chorus)

When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
Love’s touch can call us back to life again,
fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been:

(Chorus)

This lyric, by John MacLeod Campbell Crum, an early 20th century Anglican priest, is not for the faint of heart. In fact, it gets right to the heart. And, in true UU fashion – even though he wasn’t a UU – it does that great thing of connecting the Christian Easter story to nature’s resurrection.

We sang the tune not long ago, in Sing We Now of Christmas, which appear to be the original lyrics (translated from the French); yet Noel Nouvelet is the common tune for Crum’s lyrics, too – so make of that what you will. It’s somewhat joyful but not really; there too is a bittersweetness.

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Live from New Orleans – it’s Hymn by Hymn with Friends! Today’s guest is my delightful new friend Karen Eng.

Karen and I met way too early after a long but wonderful opening worship last night. We sang the hymn, and then our conversation devolved into a wide ranging discussion about how the hymnal is our sacred text. After all, as she pointed out, we don’t use any one source, but rather collection from many – and our hymnal is in fact printed evidence of that collection. And more, the fact that we have two supplements – one of songs and one of readings – is further evidence of the truth we hold, that revelation is not sealed.

Our conversation – which, I am sorry to say, was not recorded – then veered toward questions of what a new hymnal commission might do. Will they add a lot more of the new music we’re getting from our UU Musicians Network composers? Will we continue to challenge the languages of oppression and discrimination without diluting the strong and powerful theologies from our sources? Will we keep singing A Mighty Fortress and this hymn as evidence of the history of our living tradition? So many questions that a new hymnal commission – whenever it happens – will have to address.

But on to the hymn. Karen and I didn’t actually talk much about the hymn itself, so I am taking a few moments now to do so. Here are the lyrics as printed:

O sacred head, now wounded,
with grief and shame bowed down,
now scornfully surrounded
with thorns, thy only crown:
how art thou pale with anguish,
with sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish
which once was bright as morn!

What language shall I borrow
to thank thee, dearest friend,
for this thy dying sorrow,
thy pity without end?
Let me be thine forever.
And, should I fainting be,
oh, let me never, never,
outlive my love to thee.

I admit taking a double take when I got to the second verse; I’m used to a verse that goes something like this:

My Lord, what you did suffer
was all for sinner’s gain;
mine, mine was the transgression,
but yours the deadly pain.
So here I kneel, my Savior,
for I deserve your place;
look on me with thy favor
and save me by your grace.

Yet when I looked it up on Hymnary, the three common verses include this one, yes, but also the two we use. And yes, we have a shift in lyrics in verse one – the received English translation is much more unsavory: “Yet, though despised and gory,
I claim you as my own”… so I rather like our lyric.

And as this is an English translation of a German translation of a Latin text, who the heck knows anymore?

What I do know is that this is a classic Good Friday hymn, and I am glad we include it – it’s a haunting tune that captures layers of meaning.

Finally, some of you may notice that parts of this tune seem somewhat familiar in a different context; Simon and Garfunkel used a variation of this tune for the song “American Tune” – fascinating, eh? Here’s Paul Simon singing it two years ago on Stephen Colbert:

Our featured image today is the crown of thorns plant – a brilliant suggestion by my brilliant colleague, the Rev. Suzanne Fast, who is hanging out with me while I dash this off and who indulged my search for the Paul Simon video.

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Live from New Orleans – it’s Hymn by Hymn with Friends! Today’s guest is the wonderful Rev. Lyn Cox. 

Lyn and I sat down to sing, and while it looks on paper as though it would be easy to sing, it’s oddly tricky. Thus, I am not sure we had a great singing experience. 

We did, however, have an amazing conversation about this text.  

Now in the tomb is laid,
who in the wide world walked,
and talked with one and all.
Now in the tomb is laid.

Now in the tomb is laid,
who told the sparrow’s worth,
the lily’s praises said.
Now in the tomb is laid.

Perfect, no wound nor mark!
By thine own hardest hour,
do live within my heart.
Perfect, no wound nor mark!

This text was written by Irish poet Padraic Colum to accompany one of the Stations of the Cross statues which appears at St. Thomas’s Roman Catholic Church in Chicago. The tune, by UU music director Gerald Kechley is, well, appropriate but not inspiring to me, anyway. I don’t know what tune you’d put to it – anything I can find in 6.6.6.6 is just…wrong. Too old-timey, too cheerful, too…wrong. So while I don’t love Kechley’s tune, it’s a whole lot better than anything else out there. 

 It does make me think I’d rather use this poem as a reading, not as a hymn. Lyn saw the possibilities of having it sung – and we imagined using it at a tennebrae service or an Easter sunrise service. 

We also found ourselves falling into the trap of universalizing these lyrics, and our conversation, which you can listen to here, explored meaning, interpretation, the language of reverence, and the need for ritual to be witnessed versus experienced. 

Much like yesterday’s time with Monica, sharing this spiritual practice with Lyn has been incredibly rich and meaningful. I am grateful. 

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Live from New Orleans – it’s Hymn by Hymn with Friends!

Starting today and going through next Monday, I will be meeting up with some of your fellow readers at General Assembly to sing the day’s hymn and talk about hymnody and music, and of course the day’s hymn. I’ll then write up notes from the conversation, and when possible, provide audio of our conversation.  Note that I will include my regular historical, theological, and musical commentary after the lyrics, preserving this upper part for these great conversations.

First up, the lovely and recently ordained Monica Dobbins!

We started off, like you do, singing the hymn and getting a sense of the tune. As this is the same tune as When Jesus Wept, I was recently familiar with it – Monica didn’t know it but picked it up quickly, thanks in part to her experience as a child in a church that followed a shape note tradition.

So it’s all going along okay, and then we get to the third verse…

When Jesus looked from Olivet
on city gold with towers white,
with sudden grief his eyes grew wet,
and soon his weeping drowned his sight.

He found the dream of prophets past,
of justice crowning every head,
now shattered: by the truth of caste,
by children lost, by lack of bread.

They cried “Hosanna” on that day
while strewing palms upon the path,
but who was sighing all the way?
And what the nature of his wrath?

BAM.

This is not your average ‘yay, party in Jerusalem’ hymn. This one captures something really amazing about Jesus, his ministry, and the anger that leads him to disrupt. As readers know, I have long been a fan of Mark Belletini – and this one hits it out of the park.

I love too that Mark set it to this traditional Palm Sunday tune – and while we might not sing it straight through as a round in this version, it lends itself to some interesting options. I love its solemnity, especially married with Mark’s lyrics – it’s a perfect marriage reflecting the bittersweetness of the day we sing about.

My conversation with Monica ranged from the singing experience, to the theology, to the possibilities of preaching (without trying we found three Palm Sunday sermons in this text), to even challenges in congregational singing. I encourage you to listen to the audio – a scratchy 25 minutes of fascinating ideas and exchange. (Note: if the link doesn’t work, I apologize in advance and will fix as soon as I am able  – which might be tonight.)

I will also say that having someone to sing with and talk about a hymn with is amazing. As Monica noted in our conversation, singing together is a vulnerable act, which may be one reasons it’s so powerful. I need to sing these with others more often – because in fact I was moved to tears more than once this morning. I am just so glad I have the chance to do it for six more days!

 

 

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I begin with a program note:

Hymn by Hymn at General Assembly begins tomorrow! I’ll be having breakfast with some of you, singing our hymn of the day, talking about it, and then reflecting on the experience. Because of the schedule at General Assembly, the posts this week will be later than normal, probably by noon Eastern.

Now, on to our hymn:

It may be that I am sleep-deprived, or that the humidity has already gotten to me (even though I slept well and am in a gloriously well air conditioned room), but I do not get this one.

I mean, these lyrics by John Howland Lathrop, a longtime minister at First U Brooklyn in the mid-20th century, just do not make sense to me.  Who are the foolish peasants? Are they foolish because they believe Jesus is the messiah?  And is verse two knocking the two millennia of Christians who think revelation is sealed? Are the courts of power going to crucify modern prophets? The third verse is pretty good, but I’m inclined to take offense at the first two, and I don’t even identify as Christian.

Hosanna in the highest! Our eager hearts acclaim
the prophet of the kingdom, who bears Messiah’s name.
O bold, O foolish peasants, to deem that he should reign!
The temple and the palace look down in high disdain.

Long ages dim the message, and custom has sufficed
for merchants and for princes to bow, and own him Christ.
But when another spirit arises from the plain,
the courts of power tremble, and crucify again.

O first of many prophets who come of simple folk
to free us from our bondage, to break oppression’s yoke:
restore our minds to wisdom, make known the life, the way
that leads through love and justice unto the peace-crowned day.

What am I missing here?

I will say that the tune, Ellecombe, is a solid 19th century German tune that is used with similar, but less (to me) offensive Palm Sunday lyrics. It’s your basic German hymn tune, with your basic hymn tune patterns and that one line with the high notes and then resolves in a familiar way. Nothing remarkable, but definitely serviceable and tinged with joyfulness and perhaps a bit of triumph.

These lyrics, though…

I really am not getting this one today, and your help in comments would be greatly appreciated.