From Kyrie to Hallelujah: A Musical Journey

Surely this week is the most profound time in the life of Christianity, and it’s no surprise that it has served as creative inspiration for a plethora of powerful sacred music. For every gem I’ve selected for the next three worship services there are 50 equally glorious pieces that I painfully set aside for another year. The music that made the cut includes several tried and true repeats along with a couple of new ventures. Together they will provide a poignant spiritual thread woven through the tapestry that is Holy Week.

Sermon: The Road Home by Rev. Steve Pierce
Scripture: Luke 15:11-32 (The Prodigal Son)

A Masterful Ending to a Composer’s Life

Prelude: Chorale in B Minor by César Franck (1822-1890) The Belgian-born César Franck was organist of St. Clotilde in Paris for over 30 years, and from 1872 onward professor of organ at the Paris Conservatoire. In the final year of his life Franck turned to the organ, as Brahms had before him, specifically focusing on an expanded form of the chorale to serve as the summation of his creative legacy. His Trois Chorals were first heard on October 2nd, 1890, in a performance on piano for his organ class at the Conservatoire, with a student playing the pedal part and luminaries such as Vierne and Tournemire in attendance. Five weeks later Franck was dead, but not before returning to the organ loft of St. Clotilde in order to map out the registrations (or choice of organ stops and colors) for these, his final masterpieces.

The Chorale No. 2 in B Minor is comprised of three mini-chorales or principal themes, which are heard in succession on this audio sample. [LISTEN] The work opens ominously with a mournful passacaglia-like theme in the bass, over which is heard a repeated note in the manuals. Could this be the tolling of Franck’s own death bell? The second chorale theme becomes more emotionally intense through Franck’s trademark chromatic voice-leading. This theme, and indeed much of the work, seems to portray an inner struggle and restlessness – the travails and tribulations through which we all must go before making peace with our ultimate destination, our home in the Lord. The final chorale theme is twelve measures of serene bliss which has been called an “overflowing paraphrase of divine love.” It serves both as a transcendent oasis in the middle of the work, and a “hard-won tranquility” which concludes the piece, and in a sense, Franck’s entire life.

This blog is in two sections. First I want to talk about something important that is on my mind and heart, and following that is a discussion of this week’s music.

Marble’s Applause Addiction

It’s a slippery slope from a worship service with occasional applause to a performance with occasional worship. The amount of applause in the worship service has steadily risen since I arrived here 14 years ago. Very few parts of our service have been immune to it. Even the scripture reading received applause one summer Sunday a few years ago!

Furthermore, I believe we are unintentionally teaching our children to expect applause each time they sing in the sanctuary. Recently the children’s choir sang something from the rear choir loft for the first time, and because they did not receive applause we felt it necessary to assure them they had done nothing wrong and that, in fact, they had inspired a spirit of prayerfulness in the congregation. The lack of applause was an aberration to be explained and interpreted lest they feel like they had failed.

Sermon: The Road to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51-62)

Lord Have Mercy

Introit: Kyrie from Mass for Four Voices by William Byrd (1543-1623) The prayer, “Lord have mercy” is a fitting first step down the Lenten road which leads to Jerusalem, and ultimately to an empty tomb on Easter Sunday. “Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am weak” from Psalm 6:3 or some similar supplication has served as the opening of the Mass (or celebration of the Holy Eucharist) since the 5th century, retaining its Greek form (Kyrie eleison). And so it shall once again, on Fifth Avenue and 29th Street in 2010.

To begin both our Lenten journey and this Sunday’s celebration of Holy Communion, I have chosen one of the most ethereal and expressive settings of the Kyrie, from the Mass for Four Voices by English composer William Byrd. [LISTEN]Byrd was a devout Catholic composing music to the Roman liturgy in the midst of a militantly Protestant country, and he lived under constant threat of persecution and suffered outright harassment for his faith. His three Masses are not only towering masterpieces in the choral repertoire, but deeply personal expressions of his own faith. Each of the three sections of this movement (Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, and Kyrie eleison) are based on a different motive or theme, and with each reiteration the prayer for mercy takes on greater urgency.

Prelude: Allegro maestoso from Sonata No. 1 in G Major by Edward Elgar (1857-1934)
This week’s service opens with one of only two works which Elgar wrote specifically for solo organ. (His other organ Sonata, opus 87a in Bb, was originally written for orchestra and then transcribed for organ.) Elgar’s father was an organist, and young Edward would listen to him play at St. George’s Church in Worcester. Although violin was Edward’s primary passion, he also studied and performed as an organist in his early years.

The Sonata in G Major was composed hastily in 1895 at the request of Worcester Cathedral organist Hugh Blair. Within the span of just two weeks it was both composed and premiered. Talk about working on a deadline! While the haste with which Elgar wrote it is not at all evident in the masterful music, apparently it showed in a somewhat ragged first performance; Blair was given less than five days to learn it in time for its July premiere at an American Organists’ convention held at the cathedral.

In the first movement, Allegro maestoso, [LISTEN] the noble majesty for which Elgar’s music is so well known immediately shines forth. One also hears symphonic sonorities which presage Elgar’s orchestral masterpieces, particularly the Enigma Variations which would follow four years later. In fact, a half century later another British composer, Gordon Jacob, would, in a sense, finish what Elgar had begun by transcribing the Sonata for full orchestra.

Interfaith Trialogue Sunday

God of Many Names

This week Dr. Brown will lead our annual Thanksgiving Interfaith Trialogue service, in which we welcome to the Marble pulpit Rabbi Peter Rubinstein, Imam Shamsi Ali, and Sister Carol Perry.

And so it was in the spirit of the week that I read the following “Train of Thought” quote on my beloved F train from Brooklyn on Monday morning: “Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision to be the limits of the world.” A quick search provided the name of 19th-century German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer as the author. It wasn't long before my mind was substituting ‘God' for ‘world,' thinking about how easily we confine God to the limits of our own field of vision and faith experience.

A day or two after the 9/11 attacks I attended an intimate lecture and discussion with Bishop Rowan Williams in a beautiful library across the avenue at Church of the Transfiguration. A small gathering though it was, the air hung heavy in what felt like a portentous occasion, both in light of what had just happened and, we now know, what was soon to happen – the United States would go to war and Rowan Williams would become the Archbishop of Canterbury.