Three Choirs Festival Opening Service
Saturday 7th August 2010
Address given by the Dean of Gloucester,
The Very Reverend Nicholas Bury
Siegfried Sassoon wrote an amusing poem about a drunk who wandered in to a choral concert:
He’d been given a ticket for a show, And thought he’d (hiccup) chance his luck and go. The hall swam in his eyes, and soaring light Was dazzling splendid after the dank night. He sat and blinked, safe in his cushioned seat, And licked his lips; he’d like a brandy, neat. “Who is the King of Glory?” they were saying, He pricked his ears; what was it? Were they praying?...By God it might be Heaven; and everyone seemed good; and clergymen were sitting meekly round With joyful faces, drinking in the sound; And holy women, and plump, whiskered men. Could this be Heaven? And was he dead? And then they all stood up; the mighty chorus broke In storms of song above those blameless folk; And “Hallelujah, Hallejulah!” rang The burden of the triumph that they sang. He gasped; it must be true; he’d got to Heaven with all his sins that seventy times were seven; and whispering “Hallelujah” mid their shout, He wondered when the Lord God would turn him out. But, of course, if he were in heaven the Lord God in his overwhelming generosity would never turn him out. Or at least he’d only turn him out if he’d left his mobile phone on.
This address has turned out to be about God who, in his generosity, breaks down barriers and prejudice between people and between God and his people. Music, God’s gift, does that, too.
The Chapter has commissioned the artist, Iain McKillop to make a painting as a memorial to Dr John Sanders who was here for many years and Musical Director of this Festival from 1968 until 1994. It will be in the ‘Musicians Chapel’ – the Chantry Chapel in the Lady Chapel where many of our famous musicians are remembered. Iain will be painting in the Chapel all week; do go and see him there. You will also have the opportunity to contribute towards this memorial if you wish during this week. In choosing a subject for the painting, we thought of that heavenly chorus announcing Jesus’ birth to the shepherds. John was one who set heavenly words to heavenly music so well. That annunciation is a moment of great hope and great joy. God is with us. It is the beginning of the most momentous story about the nature of God. Through the birth, and words and death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we glimpse God’s nature and his overwhelming generosity. This vital moment of joy in the story of salvation is accompanied by music. But, it is delivered, this world shattering news, to obscure shepherds in the night. Now shepherds in Israel at that time were not of the Little Bo Peep variety, all sweetness and light. You might have a
Pre-Raphaelite picture of Jesus the Good Shepherd in your mind. Shepherds, we read in Genesis 46 were despised. They were smelly, dirty and often hired hands who cared little for their sheep. They were a rough crowd. The words of the angels gladden our hearts, thrill us with this news and it is good that music should accompany such wonderful news.
But it's a surprise that Jesus chose humble, dirty shepherds. If God were
to make such an important announcement today in Gloucester,
I would be rather miffed if he didn’t come here and make it to me, being such an important and religious person, or failing that the Bishop. I’d be put out if God actually made it to some obscure estate agent or mobile phone salesperson. But that’s the point. God surprises and is generous and inclusive, he wants everyone to be part of his Kingdom.
This service has an inspiring and inclusive collection of words and music from every age. Look at them. Psalms – Psalm 24 ‘The earth is the Lord’s’, with music by the early twentieth century child prodigy, Lili Boulanger who died so tragically young; Psalm 100 the Jubilate with music written this year by John Joubert in his eighty-fourth year. We cannot date the psalms reliably, but we can confidently say they have been sung for a good two and a half thousand years, many of them even longer. Then there is the Te Deum – traditionally ascribed to Ambrose and Augustine and written in AD 387 at Augustine’s baptism with music from Ralph Vaughan Williams; two hymns which are translations by J M Neale of 7th and 15th century Latin texts; the incomparable seventeenth century poet and priest, George Herbert’s song ‘Let all the world in every corner sing’ with a setting by Kenneth Leighton, the twentieth century composer, and Elgar’s setting of words from the Book of Hours. Timeless words, set to modern music and accompanied by an orchestra - the combination often makes an unmusical spine like mine tingle with joy and thanksgiving.
But, some would not agree with this inclusivity. Martin Luther, a great fan of music, but not musical instruments in church. “The church rings with the noise of trumpets, pipes and dulcimers...men run to church as to a theatre, to have their ears tickled.” John Wesley, “I have no objection to instruments of music in our chapels, provided they are neither heard nor seen.” A Baptist, rejoicing in the name of Benedict wrote: “staunch Baptists in former times would have soon tolerated the Bishop of Rome in their pulpits as an organ in their galleries.” And, Francis Close, that eminent divine of Cheltenham, was no fan of the Three Choirs Festival. “When pious people view the Music Meeting as a whole and investigate its accompaniments they are forced to conclude it is not of the Father, but of the world.”
Was it not to the world that God wished to speak when he announced the birth of Christ? What was the objection to instruments in church? Where does all this exclusivity come from? After all, the psalms continually mention musical instruments. Perhaps it is to do with enjoyment and pleasure. Music is so hugely enjoyable, and I cannot believe that it is not another gift of a generous God. Why should he not make the world enjoyable? And include everyone in that enjoyment? The church has a history of being rather suspicious of people who enjoy themselves, especially if they enjoy themselves too much. It has a hang up about sex for the same reasons. Now I would say that if music and worship is not enjoyable then a huge element of God’s creation is missing.
We have some words in this service not set to music from the poet R S Thomas about names for God. The poet holds back one name for God ‘Love’ which he says he is unable to reconcile with the mosquito, the tidal-wave and the black hole into which time must fall. Did you see the last episode of the BBC Sit-Com ‘Rev’ broadcast on Monday of this week? It is clearly written by someone who has really got under the skin of urban clergy. In the last episode, Stephen Smallbone, the vicar in Shoreditch is in the depths of gloom and despair, and is beginning to lose faith. He has met his fairly tramp-like parishioner, Colin, in the pub. The conversation goes like this:
Colin: “You’ve got a face on you today, Vicarage” (he always calls him vicarage). Stephen: “I am feeling a great deal of ontological despair.” “You, what?” “Sometimes, Colin, I stand at the door of the church shaking hands with the ten or twelve people who were at the service and I feel a remnant.” Colin asks, “A remnant of what?” “A remnant of an illusion that people used to believe in. I do realise that if God made his existence very clearly known it would overwhelm us and remove all free will and so on but frankly at the moment I am feeling underwhelmed by the thoughtlessness and carelessness and meanness of other people. If I was in charge of creation I would have kept the flowers, waterfalls, butterflies and Louise Rednapp but left out the malaria, earthquakes, cancer and dementia. I would have made a better job of it all. And I can never say what I really think. I have to be good and say what people want to hear.” Colin says, “You should say what you think. It’ll make you feel much better.” “Well, Colin, I really think you should not come round to the vicarage so much. Stop it. It’s irritating. Ooh, yes, thanks - I really do feel better.” Colin’s reply is unprintable as he goes out and slams the door.
R S Thomas’ answer to Stephen’s real despair is in the second half of the poem. “You answered us with the image of yourself on a hewn tree, suffering injustice, pardoning it;... Ah, love, tell us how much more they must be stretched to embrace a universe...”
The answer to Stephen’s despair is God’s overwhelming love and generosity. The gift of his Son whose birth announcement was accompanied by heavenly music was an act of love for all people. The self-sacrifice of his Son, whose arms are stretched out on the hewn tree, is his final act of huge generosity. When we realise that we cannot but sing praises. Why cannot Christians of different traditions be more generous to one another? Why cannot those who like to sing melodies without an orchestra be generous towards those who love to praise God with the sound of the horn, pipe, lyre, trigon, harp, and bagpipe? So, hooray for the Festival for including gospel songs and jazz psalms.
God’s love and generosity is not just for the pious. All who are touched by God’s love will want to praise him. Augustine gets this right when he writes his exposition of the Psalms.“It is fine praise when you sing with real joy. Words are sometimes not enough to express what we are singing to God in our hearts. At harvest time, the labourers work incredibly hard and begin their day with songs whose words express their joy. But when their joy brims over and words are not enough, they abandon this and give themselves up to the sheer delight of singing. There is an inner melody that means our hearts are bursting with feeling that words cannot contain. And to whom does such joy belong if not to God who is beyond language. When words cannot come and you cannot keep silent what else can you do but let the melody soar?” So at the beginning of this great festival let the melody soar.
