Hymn books online

One of the great joys of the modern age is the amount of information available free, online.

I've spent hours in the Mullen Library at Catholic University looking through books just like these. Comfy as libraries can be, it's wonderful that a virtual library like this is available anywhere you can get a wireless signal.

Once when my office was located above a library, I would run downstairs to look at this on my lunch hour. Now, I just go to the sidebar of my blog, click on Dictionary of Hymnology vol. I, and enjoy!

At their best, hymns can pack a ton of theological information, and religious emotion, into a small space. Here's a familiar Easter hymn by Charles Wesley.

1. Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!

Sons of men and angels say: Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens, and earth, reply: Alleluia!

2. Vain the stone, the watch, the seal; Alleluia!
Christ has burst the gates of hell: Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids His rise; Alleluia!
Christ has opened paradise! Alleluia!

3. Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting?
Alleluia!Once He died, our souls to save, Alleluia!
Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!

4. Soar we now where Christ has led, Alleluia!
Following our exalted Head, Alleluia!
Made like Him, like Him we rise, Alleluia!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!

5. Hail, the Lord of earth and heaven! Alleluia!
Praise to thee by both be given; Alleluia!
Thee we greet triumphant now; Alleluia!
Hail, the Resurrection, thou! Alleluia!

Aside from the excellence of the entire hymn, which takes us proleptically from the Resurrection of Christ to our own resurrection (in keeping with the remarkable Pauline logic of I Corinthians 15), there is a single line of such exquisite theological intensity that I've tried to "steal" it in several different ways already in my own writing.

"Vain the stone, the watch, the seal; Alleluia!"

Frankly the rest of verse 2 is somewhat pro forma, because after this line, what else is there to say? The tomb is empty! Death has been defeated, the powers of earth have been defeated. Their efforts are vain--kenotic--empty, and against God.

The images are directly Scriptural and used as Scripture uses them. And yet they come through the hymn in a fresh way. First, they demand a small amount of work, like a puzzle: in context and as a group they can only mean the three things they mean, but first one must think. Which stone? Watch (a multivalent English word)? Seal (the same)? The hymn points us back to Scripture to rediscover a story with concrete details, including the unusual situation of soldiers guarding a dead man. Secondly, they are very short words, one of the keys to Wesley's perennial appeal. Here his short words are nouns (and an adjective) but just as often they are verbs: "FIX in us thy humble dwelling/ all thy faithful mercies CROWN" (from another excellent Wesley hymn, Love Divine, All Loves Excelling).

Thirdly, these short words have big, open sounds. Vain is an emphatic word, a word that excludes, but its long vowel would seem to suggest the opposite. (Notice that the sound of the old word "fain" captures a sense of longing.) "Stone," one of Thomas Merton's favorite words, implies weight and solidity, with its long O. "Watch" is exceptional here. The vowel is short, the consonants much more expressive. "Seal" has a very long vowel, a diphthong anchored in its long e.

Verse 3 will taunt death, death in se, in the Pauline way. But here at the beginning of verse 2 we are still in the mode of wonder at the fact of Jesus' resurrection, as much declaring the resurrection as reflecting upon it. And yet there is some taunt in this line: it is both "joy" and "triumph."

As with all great hymns a congregation becomes like little children saying "Can you believe it? Look at the great things God has done!"

New to the Sidebar

I'm adding a link to an online book, Early Latin Hymns by A. S. Walpole. It's an interesting and learned book, summing up the intense hymnological scholarship of the time. It can be found here.

When Morning Fills the Skies

I know what you're saying: "You've got the wrong verb. It's supposed to be gilds, not fills." But that's how I first heard it, and how I still prefer it.

John Wesley famously scolded the revisers of hymns, who made him and his brother Charles appear to be responsible "for the doggerel of other men." And I would often agree. So would Catherine Osborne, who hosts a blog called Bad things in new hymn books and other sad tales .

But frankly, the image of morning "filling the skies" means a lot more to me than the image of the skies receiving a daub of gold paint. It's truer, it's more beautiful, and it refers (for me) to Timothy Dudley-Smith's wonderful line "the vault of heaven springs." And it should refer (for everyone) to Charles Wesley's formidable Christ Whose Glory Fills the Skies.

This was one of the first great hymns I ever heard. On Good Friday and Holy Saturday mornings, Catholics don't celebrate Mass, so one must find a Morning Prayer service. At the Immaculata in San Diego, we stood in the choir seating in the transept and sang Sing My Tongue the Song of Triumph on Friday morning, and this hymn on Holy Saturday morning, about a decade and a half ago. That was my first real introduction to the kind of Church songs people call hymns. To the tune Laudes Domini:

When morning fills the skies
my heart awaking cries:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Alike at work and prayer,
to Jesus I repair:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

To God, the Word, on high,
the host of angels cry,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Let mortals, too, upraise
their voice in hymns of praise,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

The night becomes as day
when from the heart we say:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
The powers of darkness fear
when this sweet chant they hear:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

In Heaven’s eternal bliss
the loveliest strain is this:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Let earth, and sea and sky
from depth to height reply,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Be this, while life is mine,
my canticle divine:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Sing this eternal song
through all the ages long:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

St. Matthew Passion

A nice essay by Carol Traupman-Carr

"We Cannot Say that One Song Is as Good as Another"

Liturgical song

42. In the ars celebrandi, liturgical song has a pre-eminent place. Saint Augustine rightly says in a famous sermon that "the new man sings a new song. Singing is an expression of joy and, if we consider the matter, an expression of love". The People of God assembled for the liturgy sings the praises of God. In the course of her two-thousand-year history, the Church has created, and still creates, music and songs which represent a rich patrimony of faith and love. This heritage must not be lost. Certainly as far as the liturgy is concerned, we cannot say that one song is as good as another. Generic improvisation or the introduction of musical genres which fail to respect the meaning of the liturgy should be avoided. As an element of the liturgy, song should be well integrated into the overall celebration. Consequently everything – texts, music, execution – ought to correspond to the meaning of the mystery being celebrated, the structure of the rite and the liturgical seasons. Finally, while respecting various styles and different and highly praiseworthy traditions, I desire, in accordance with the request advanced by the Synod Fathers, that Gregorian chant be suitably esteemed and employed as the chant proper to the Roman liturgy.

Pope Benedict XVI, Sacramentum Caritatis

"Dad, that song's weird."

"What do you mean?"
"At my school. Every year they sing this song about ashes. It's so weird."
"Oh. Do you mean the one that goes 'We rise again from ashes...'?"
"Exactly. Why do they have to sing it? It's not good."
"No, I don't think so either. Sit down for a minute and I'll show you what I think is wrong with it. Now let me write down the first verse:

We rise again from ashes, from the good we've failed to do.
We rise again from ashes, to create ourselves anew.
If all our world is ashes, then must our lives be true:
An offering of ashes, an offering to you.

And here is the last verse:

Praise be to the Father, who made us like himself.
Praise be to the Son, who saved us by his death.
Praise be to the Spirit who creates our world anew
From an offering of ashes, an offering to you.

Okay, when you look at those two verses, which is worse?"
"Well, the last one isn't too bad. But the first one is terrible."
"I agree. Can you say exactly what is wrong with it?"
"Well, for one thing, it makes us look terrible. I mean, I know we're sinners and all that, but if you say 'all our world is ashes' it just sounds too strict."
"I agree. If we thought that being sinners made us totally depraved, well, that might be okay to say. But as Catholics we believe that there is a lot of good in the world. And in us."
"The other thing I don't like is it reminds me of a phoenix. I mean, phoenixes are cool, but is that right to sing about in church?"
"I don't think so. Hmm, I wonder if phoenixes ever were Christian symbols? Could be, I'll google it later. But I would at least say that I'm not crazy about that image, because if I remember right, phoenixes rise out of their ashes as their exact same selves. But the New Testament is clear about the fact that when we rise, we shall be changed. We'll be ourselves, but different. But anyways there's something else that I think is a real problem with that verse."
"What?"
"Look at the last two lines of the last verse. Who is doing the action?"
"The Spirit. I guess they mean the Holy Spirit."
"Right. And who is doing the action in the first verse?"
"We are. That's it, that's what I don't like."
"Exactly. When was the last time I created something? Never. I make things, and I have children, which is as close as I come to creating anything. But I've never created something from nothing. I've never caused something to rise from the dead. The last verse gets it right. The first verse, I think, is completely wrong. It's misleading and it's wrong. I won't even go into the second verse."
"Okay, that makes sense. I mean, that it's God's job to change us, even if we try to do what we can. I mean, I try, but I can't do it all.Anyways, I hope they don't sing it next year."
Reprinted from last year about this time.

Starts Off Well, but fails to complete its course.

Sadly, I must take issue with this otherwise half-lovely hymn of the fine author Reginald Heber, who also gave us Holy, Holy, Holy ("casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea") and the excellent Virgin-Born, We Bow Before You.

Here we have an Epiphany hymn in dancing dactyls, a song to the star that led the sages to the Lord. Verses 1 and 2 very effectively convey the joy of the pilgrims on the road, coming closer!

But then for some reason, likely a bad theological reason, verses 3 and 4 flatten the joy with a strange dichotomization: we have no sacrifice, no gift, but God will accept our love.

What a strange thing to say! In what universe does love come without cost? Have we nothing to give? Or are we as stingy as the man who buried the coin he was given to invest?

"Beloved, let us love in deed and in truth, and not merely talk about it.

"Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,

Dawn on our darkness and lend us Thine aid;

Star of the East, the horizon adorning,

Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.

Cold on His cradle the dewdrops are shining;

Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall;

Angels adore Him in slumber reclining,

Maker and Monarch and Savior of all!

Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion,

Odors of Edom and offerings divine?

Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean,

Myrrh from the forest, or gold from the mine?

Vainly we offer each ample oblation,

Vainly with gifts would His favor secure;

Richer by far is the heart’s adoration,

Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.

Hazards of a Free Market

I've been wondering. Why does a market-driven economy tend to drive up the quality of most things, such as cars, laundry soap, spiffy laptops such as the one I'm using now?

But why does it tend to drive down entertainment items such as television and music?

And what has it done to the Liturgy?

A Few More Principles

I've been putting together a few "principles of discernment" that I think are useful tools for choosing among the many hymn texts that we have at our disposal. I use these myself when choosing songs for the Liturgy, and when I write my own texts. I would imagine that preachers have a similar list of do's and don't's for when they prepare homilies: some things that they would always be sure to say, and some things that they would never ever say in a million years.

Right now I'm working out "the negative judgment"--some of the features of hymn or song texts that I believe make them misleading or harmful for the people to sing. Things I think we should never ever sing in a million years. Two of them follow:

• Hymns that speak of the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of Heaven, the City of God, or the Heavenly Jerusalem must always be clear that this kingdom "is not of this world," but is fulfilled in heaven.
• No hymn should speak of the Eucharist as "bread" and "wine" without some clear, immediate qualification that indicates that bread and wine have been changed into the Body and Blood of Christ. Examples of acceptable usages include: Bread of angels, living Bread, Bread of life, the One Cup. Examples of unacceptable usages include broken bread, bread broken for us, wine poured out for us, bread (simply), wine (simply).
  
  (This last leaves out one of my favorite hymns, Father We Thank Thee Who Hast Planted, whose expression "broken bread" is (arguably, and imho) not sufficiently clear regarding the Real Presence. It's misleading on this one point alone. I know, I know, it's from the Didache. But, it's from the Eucharistic prayer of the Didache, and in an early point of the Eucharistic prayer at that. First of all, what are we doing singing a Eucharistic prayer as a hymn? Secondly, when would we sing it? It's neither pre-consecrational, nor post-consecrational. It's neither fish nor fowl for us; it doesn't "go" with our current rite. )
  
  To my thinking, a single corrupt or potentially misleading expression makes a corrupt hymn. If it can be fixed or reworked, why not? But then again, with all the music at large, why bother? Rare is the hymn that would be such a great loss to humanity, that we cannot simply let it disappear. And most of those are so consonant with Catholic sensibilities that they contain no errors anyhow.
  
  In some cases, just one verse might be problematic, but perhaps not the entire hymn. For example, another principle might be:
  
• No hymn should use the word "sacrament" for any activity other than the seven sacraments of the Church, unless it refers instead to the Sacrament that is the Church itself.(LG 9, 4)
  
  This leaves out the third verse of Draw Us in the Spirit's Tether--but then it was already pretty well farfetched in its Eucharistic theology in the verse two. Catholics don't "break the bread and bless the cup," exactly. "We" don't do anything, first of all; Christ does, in the action and words of the priest. Secondly, what happens is the bread and wine are offered in sacrifice; they are consecrated. The first verse of this hymn is quite pretty and good, and the tune, with its "alleluias" is so lovely, that its subsequent inadequacy (even poetic inadequacy) is often overlooked, even for its use in Catholic hymnals and churches. But it is because of theological inadequacy that it should not be sung at Mass.

Principles for Discerning Good Liturgical Music

1. The doctrine of the Trinity should never be compromised through the consistent replacement of masculine pronominal references to the three Divine persons
2. Any emphasis on the work of the members of the Church should always be balanced by an appreciation of the doctrine of grace and our complete dependence of the grace of God to accomplish anything
3. Any hymn focused on apostolic activity among the poor should mention at least one of five goals of apostolic activity:

• service to Christ who identified Himself with poor (Mt. 25)
  
• the desire that others may see our good works and glorify the heavenly Father (Mt. 5:16, cf. SC 10)
  
• the imago dei present in every human person,
  
• the desire that God's will be done on earth as in the heavenly kingdom, which is "not of this world"
  
• the imitation of Christ who "came to preach good news to the poor" and "became poor though He was rich, to make you rich out of His poverty" and "took on the form of a slave."

Some similar, explicit reference to a God-centered, theological reason for any apostolic activity must accompany any exhortation to that activity.

A Hymn That Has Its Ups and Downs

At Mass today we sang, as many churches do on Transfiguration Sunday, the hymn 'Tis Good Lord to Be Here, by Joseph Armitage Robinson.

’Tis good, Lord, to be here,
Thy glory fills the night;
Thy face and garments, like the sun,
Shine with unborrowed light.

’Tis good, Lord, to be here,
Thy beauty to behold
Where Moses and Elijah stand,
Thy messengers of old.

Fulfiller of the past,
Promise of things to be,
We hail Thy body glorified
And our redemption see.

Before we taste of death,
We see Thy kingdom come;
We fain would hold the vision bright
And make this hill our home.

’Tis good, Lord, to be here.
Yet we may not remain;
But since Thou bidst us leave the mount,
Come with us to the plain.

That's a mighty lyric. Not only is it deeply expressive of the mystery of the day, but it is also remarkable poetry. Note the pleasant vowel sounds, the long vowels at the end of verses, and the steady use of the l-sound throughout, in the most significant words. Plus the fresh, brief litany: Fulfiller of the past! Promise of things to be! The poetry is vigourous and confident, and very satisfying to the ear and mind.

Unfortunately, however, the hymn is all wrong.

First, as a hymn, it is inside-out. Hymns grow to a height. No matter what has happened--even in the Gospel--there is more to come, and hymns must always celebrate the "more." Hymns end at their highest point. Contrariwise, this hymn takes for its model the "topography" (if you will) of the story itself, isolated from its fulfillment. The hymn walks a mountain up, then down. The "high" point of the story is the Father's voice, at which the apostles fall down; the high point of the hymn is the third verse, in which Christ is recognized for Who He is and the soteriological implications of His identity are evident. Then both story and hymn go down the mountain--as the hymn says, "to the plain."

St. Paul says "If our hopes in Christ are limited to this life only, we are the most pitiable of men." [Broad sense of "men," of course.] Even with the presence of Christ intensely with us "on the plain," if we are living for the life of the plain, we are living for the futility of a life that will end. But a hymn must point forward into eternity.

Even more problematic, but in a similar way, is the refrain of the hymn: "'Tis good, Lord, to be here." This should never have been said in the first place. It was a typical blunder of St. Peter's to want to halt the Lord's saving action by holding too tightly to penultimate moments of glory. The Transfiguration is not the "high" point of the Gospel--the high point so far is the Paschal Mystery, which has not even now been fulfilled. When it is fulfilled, then it will be time to rest in our booths. But not now. Nor is it for us to go to the plain as though that is the real life. We must press on in real but hidden glory to the Resurrection and beyond. It was not a lasting "good" to be on the mountain--and in any case, "we" are not there. Peter, James and John, as apostolic witnesses, were there. We are already heirs to the fulfilled promise of their vision, the Resurrection. And our hope lies in this promise's new fulfillment in the age to come.

This is why the far lesser poem O Wondrous Type, O Vision Fair is the far better hymn.

O wondrous type! O vision fair

of glory that the Church may share,

which Christ upon the mountain shows

,where brighter than the sun he glows!

The law and prophets there have place,

the chosen witnesses of grace;

the Father's voice from our the cloud

proclaims his only Son aloud.

With shining face and bright array,

Christ deigns to manifest today

what glory shall be theirs above

who joy in God with perfect love.

And faithful hearts are raised on high

by this great vision's mystery;

for which in joyful strains we raise

the voice of prayer, the hymns of praise.

O Father, with the eternal Son,

and Holy Spirit, ever One,

vouchsafe to bring us by thy grace

to see thy glory face to face.

Words: Latin, fifteenth century; trans. Hymns Ancient & Modern, 1861

Thy Bountiful Care, What Tongue Can Recite?

Another brilliant exposition of the use of parallels in hymns by Christopher Alexander, in which is explained the frisson that one often feels when singing lists of things in hymns. Very worthy of close study.

Q and A, Musically Speaking

There is a kind of verse-chorus musical combination that has intrigued me for some time. These are the songs in which the tunes of verse and chorus are really different, more a yin-yang combination than a hand-glove combination. On Eagles' Wings, which I pick out from several like it because NPM recently identified it as the overwhelming favorite song, period, of American Catholics, is an example of this combination.

The verses of Eagles' Wings have a lilting quality. (I'm writing in what follows as if it is written in the key of C, although if I recall it is written in Eb.) The verses start very high, on the Fourth chord but on B, a note that's nowhere in the Fourth or the First--it is a very timid beginning, likely to cause a singer's quaver. The Fourth resolves to a CMaj7, which, in this structure, is a gentle i.e. timid chord on which to barely rest a G--like balancing an egg upright in a bed of moss--before repeating that whole phrase. Then there is an unusual and dramatic progression, kind of a blur that makes a great deal of use of the flattened 7th; all is unrest until we finally land on the full expression of the question, the 5th (G7).

That is the question--what is the answer? The answer is: we are destined to soar. The question has tossed us to the ground but not for long. We land on the major C and it buoys us up. We sing like eagles, we fly like eagles, we circle around, high above our difficulties, and finally land in the quiet soft nest, snuggled up with God. The refrain, unlike the verse, stays completely within the round of standard C-major chord progressions.

The effect of this kind of structure, it seems to me, is that a whole lot of dramatic tension seems to be proposed and resolved in a very short time. The verse acts as a kind of question; it is quickly resolved by the refrain, which fulfills itself by increasing our sense of comfort. It happens over and over again, reinforcing us in a very easily understood and very easily attained sense of being very close to God. It's not nourishing, but it is comforting. I can see why people would request it again and again.

Songs of Thankfulness and Praise

There is a hymn that captures very well the sentiments of the Magnificat antiphon for the second Vespers of Epiphany: "Three mysteries mark this holy day."

It's called Songs of Thankfulness and Praise, by Christopher Wordsworth. It's in most of the hymnals but not done often enough, in my opinion. Probably because it's good for one Sunday of the year--not an "economical" choice, maybe, for congregational participation. But it goes with a lot of tunes, at least one of which most congregations are likely to know. I like it best set to Salzburg, as here.

First is mentioned the mystery of the day:

Songs of thankfulness and praise,

Jesus, Lord, to thee we raise,

manifested by the star

to the sages from afar;

branch of royal David's stem

in thy birth at Bethlehem;

anthems be to thee addressed,

God in man made manifest.

Then the appearance to the Magi is linked to those of the Baptism and the Wedding Feast at Cana:

Manifest at Jordan's stream,

Prophet, Priest and King supreme;

and at Cana, wedding guest,

in thy Godhead manifest;

manifest in power divine,

changing water into wine;

anthems be to thee addressed,

God in man made manifest.

Finally there is an intercessory/ hortatory verse. Note the very high and correct view of salvation, in which we are both changed--by God, of course--into his likeness, and also given over totally to praise at the same time:

Grant us grace to see thee, Lord,

mirrored in thy holy Word;

may we imitate thee now,

and be pure, as pure art thou;

that we like to thee may be

at thy great Epiphany;

and may praise thee, ever blest,

God in man made manifest.

Throughout the hymn a fairly unfamiliar word falls over and over like a hammer or a drumbeat: manifest, manifest.

I think that those three verses stand alone as a unity for this feast, although I confess an affection for the following verse which deals with Jesus' public ministry:

Manifest in making whole

palsied limbs and fainting soul;

manifest in valiant fight,

quelling all the devil's might;

manifest in gracious will,

ever bringing good from ill;

anthems be to thee addressed,

God in man made manifest.

A nice theological moment in lines 5 & 6 above. Both Sts. Augustine and Thomas (and many others, I'm sure) agree that God permits evil only to bring out a greater good. So this is one of the marks of his "showing forth" upon the earth: drawing good out of evil. But the use of the word "ill" for bad touches upon the form that the Son's power took most often in the Gospels: physical healings. Very nice. Note the compactness of the phrase: "ever bringing good from ill." A very admirable line.

This is followed by a verse I'd not seen before, regarding the manifestation yet to come, the Epiphany to bring into one all Epiphanies, full of good scripture:

Sun and moon shall darkened be,

stars shall fall, the heavens shall flee;

Christ will then like lightning shine,

all will see his glorious sign;

all will then the trumpet hear,

all will see the Judge appear;

thou by all wilt be confessed,

God in man made manifest.

If you don't sing this in your parish tomorrow, please ask for it next year. It's uplifting and doctrinally sound--really worthy of wide usage.

Christ, Whose Glory Fills the Skies

Christ, Whose glory fills the skies,
Christ, the true, the only Light,
Sun of Righteousness, arise,
Triumph o’er the shades of night;
Dayspring from on high be near;
Day-star, in my heart appear.

Dark and cheerless is the morn
Unaccompanied by Thee;
Joyless is the day’s return
Till Thy mercy’s beams I see;
Till they inward light impart,
Glad my eyes, and warm my heart.

Visit then this soul of mine,
Pierce the gloom of sin and grief;
Fill me, Radiancy divine,
Scatter all my unbelief;
More and more Thyself display,
Shining to the perfect day.

There are two kinds of light at work in this most excellent hymn by Charles Wesley. There is a diffuse, general light, and a piercing, personal light that has yet to enter into the soul of the singer.

The light that is already present is given with the dawn. In the Christological sense of the hymn, this light is given in creation, and in the Incarnation. The dawn itself shows that there is already present “in the skies” the undeniable light of Christ, the logos, “through whom all things were made.”

Then comes the dawn of the Incarnation, the “Dayspring from on high.” This is the dawn that happens upon the world when the Word becomes flesh. But it is not yet experienced as pro me. That will come with the dense, bright light, the "Daystar in my heart."

So the singer asks for a more intense light, “Thy mercy’s beam.” This focused and dense light has a personal effect that the diffuse light does not fulfill in itself. It is not a general gift but one that, the singer prays, can “visit” and “pierce” and manifest the presence of Christ within the human person.