by Brian G. Daigle A dear mentor once told me of a lecture he gave to a typical undergraduate audience at a large state university. His lecture was on the existence of God, the basic Judeo-Christian assertion that there is one, true God, and that this God has truly (even if not fully) revealed himself to us, and that if we would want to live good and happy lives, we must ultimately know, love, and worship that God above all things. When his lecture was over, a young man raised his hand in the front, stood up amidst the assembly of his peers, and began to give a variety of self-reports about his own disbelief in such a God, or any deity whatsoever. This young man, like many such young men and women entangled in our present-day college and university systems, was a proudly devout atheist; he had no qualms sharing this peculiar creed with the speaker and room full of his fellow university students. As was his custom, the speaker listened quietly, humbly, and waited for the young man to finish. When the young scholar finished, the speaker very simply took a step from behind the podium, walked beside it, laid his elbow on the podium in an interested but leisurely posture, and said, “Well, thank you for telling us so much about yourself, now would you be willing to tell us something about God. Better yet, would you be willing to sing to us of your atheism.” The young man had no defense. He went silent, perhaps seeing that his rationalism had run its natural course. At the least, it was a witty and unexpected request: sing to us of your atheism. But it was more profound than that. In his aged wisdom, the speaker knew something the young man did not yet know, something Homer knew: we will either sing or rage, and if we want to sing, we must know and respect the divine. Furthermore, how can we do such a joyful, vulnerable, and historic act as public singing (especially acapella and alone) when we have not that deep wellspring from which to draw the courage and joy needed for such a venture. The only other alternative is to rage, or at least protest. And what comes of protesting against the divine? Tragedy, not comedy.
The great Homeric tragedy, The Iliad, begins, “Rage - Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles, murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses, hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls, great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion, feasts for the dogs and birds, and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end. Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed, Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles.” The great Homeric comedy, The Odyssey, begins, “Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns, driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy.” Sing. Rage. These are the first two words of Fagles’ translations of both epic poems. And these are the two courses for humanity. These are the only two directions civilizations may take. And it is true of individual lives as well. We will either build homes and families and schools and religious institutions and companies that rage or we will build ones that sing. Homer knew, in his two great epics, that these were the two paths down which our lives are ever traveling. Each day we awake, each conversation we have, each decision we make, we are either becoming a people who sing or a people who rage. We are either maturing into songbirds or devolving into brutes. We are either moving toward love or toward hate. As St. Augustine tells us in his Confessions, we are either moving toward integration or disintegration. We are either becoming whole in holiness or we are being fragmented in folly. We are either becoming virtuous or vicious. And what is both a central catalyst and fruit of the direction we take? Singing. Singing is both a formative discipline and a fruitful decoration. Singing is both a path by which we become healthy and happy as well as a key symptom of being healthy and happy. Our classical tradition teaches us this, which is why music was central to the seven liberal arts, the artes liberales, being established securely in the quadrivium. What area of life does music not touch? To be human is to be musical. Music is political. “Musical innovation is full of danger to the State, for when modes of music change, the fundamental laws of the State always change with them.” And “let me make the songs of a nation, and I care not who makes its law” (Plato) Music is education. “I would teach children music, physics, and philosophy; but most importantly music, for the patterns in music and all the arts are the keys to learning” (Plato) Music is soul work. “Musical training is a more potent instrument than any other, because rhythm and harmony find their way into the inward places of the soul, on which they mightily fasten, imparting grace, and making the soul of him who is rightly educated graceful, or of him who is ill-educated ungraceful.” (Socrates) Music is moral. “Musical training is a more potent instrument than any other, because rhythm and harmony find their way into the inward places of the soul.” (Plato) Music is imaginative. “And I think that you must have observed again and again what a poor appearance the tales of poets make when stripped of the colours which music puts upon them, and recited in simple prose.” (Plato) Music is power. As Peter Kreeft states, “Music is more powerful than reason in the soul. That is also why Plato made music the very first step in his long educational curriculum: good music was to create the harmony of soul that would be a ripe field for the higher harmony of reason to take root in later. And that is also why he said that the decay of the ideal state would begin with a decay in music. In fact, one of your obscure modern scholars has shown that social and political revolutions have usually been preceded by musical revolutions, and why another sage said, 'Let me write the songs of a nation and I care not who writes its laws.” Even still, our Christian tradition takes it further. The Church has clearly affirmed that music (in a variety of forms and styles) is a fundamental means by which God imparts grace to his people and to the world. Furthermore, it is an essential act of Christian worship. From the preface to the Trinity Hymnal: “Since the dawn of creation and throughout history, singing has characterized God’s people in worship. Mandated and exemplified in the Bible, singing is integral to corporate worship and is itself an act of worship. Psalms and hymns are a fundamental means by which believers respond to divine grace, communicate their praise, affirm their faith and proclaim spiritual truth.” Luther states, “Music is a beautiful and glorious gift of God and close to theology. I would not give up what little I know about music for something else which I might have in greater abundance. We should always make it a point to habituate youth to enjoy the art of music, for it produces fine and skillful people.” Calvin teaches, “The use of singing may be extended further: it is even in the houses and fields an incentive for us, like an organ, to praise God and to lift our hearts to Him, for consoling us in meditating upon His virtue, goodness, wisdom and justice, which is more necessary than can be expressed. Firstly, it is not without reason that the Holy Spirit exhorts us so carefully in the Holy Scriptures to rejoice in God that all our joy may be reduced to its true purpose, for He knows how much we are inclined to rejoice in vanity. So our nature causes us to look for all means of foolish and vicious rejoicing. On the contrary, our Lord, to distract us and draw us away from the desires of the flesh and of this world gives us every possible way to occupy ourselves in that spiritual joy which He desires for us. Among all other things which are proper for recreation of man and for giving him pleasure, music is the first or one of the principal and we must esteem it as a gift of God given to us for that purpose.” Do we want our children to know theology? Our singing is our theology. Gordon Fee states, “Show me a church's songs and I'll show you their theology.” Do we want to glorify God and refresh the soul? “The aim and final end of all music should be none other than the glory of God and the refreshment of the soul.” (Johann Sebastian Bach) Additionally, Karl Barth is helpful, “The Christian church sings. It is not a choral society. Its singing is not a concert. But from inner, material necessity it sings. Singing is the highest form of human expression. . . . What we can and must say quite confidently is that the church which does not sing is not the church. And where...it does not really sing but sighs and mumbles spasmodically, shamefacedly and with an ill grace, it can be at best only a troubled community which is not sure of its cause and of whose ministry and witness there can be no great expectation. . . . The praise of God which finds its concrete culmination in the singing of the community is one of the indispensable forms of the ministry of the church.” And Isaac Watts, the great hymnist, proclaims, “Let those refuse to sing who never knew our God.” As those who affirm both the classical and Christian traditions, we cannot help but affirm music, and that is precisely what Cantate Domino has sought to do. This publication aims at a full expression of each of the sentiments expressed in the above quotes. Beyond that, what Preston gets deeply right in this project is multi-level:
Interested in purchasing this songbook? Hardcover is available HERE Spiral-bound is available HERE.
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