Page 25 - Church Music Quarterly September 2018
P. 25

                                them alive and moving us. That said, our personal associations with hymns are subjective and not part of the hymns themselves. The truth about the creation and history of this particular hymn can therefore be surprising. Compounded to its unusual pedigree is the fact that neither the author nor the composer lived to have any inkling of the marriage of tune and text.
John Whittier’s words were adapted by William Horder, who published them in his Congregational Hymnbook of 1884. Born near Haverhill, Massachusetts, Whittier was descended from the Pilgrim Fathers and was, therefore, a Quaker.
He was more a poet and journalist than hymn writer, and the text with which
we are familiar is in fact the final six verses of a long, narrative poem called The Brewing of Soma, published in the Atlantic Monthly in April 1872. Whittier describes the intoxicating effect of
Soma, a drink made from hallucinogenic mushrooms and milk, used in Vedic (Hindu) rituals. It is surprising, disconcerting, even alarming that a poem about drug-induced religious frenzy has become associated with gentle piety and prayerfulness, and
with the Holy Land. Arguably, one might say that in becoming a hymn the words have transcended, even redeemed their origins. Regardless, Whittier’s original message and purpose is worth remembering. Doctrines, dogmas and religious ritual, he sought to remind
us, should give way to the ‘simple trust’ of the Galilean disciples who heard the Lord’s call. Soma was a ‘heathen’ drug, and the poem laments what Whittier saw as a dependence on it by another name: ‘in sensual transports wild as
vein, we brew in many a Christian
fane the heathen Soma still.’
Then follows the text we know
and love (the antepenultimate verse
of which is invariably omitted). The reference to the land and sea of Galilee is brief, but it is sufficiently evocative to carry us there spiritually. We can be reminded of the call of the disciples in Galilee and be inspired and encouraged by the idea that we should be calm in deep reverence as we enjoy the beauty of God’s peace. Inevitably the text
resonates with Elijah’s hearing of the ‘still, small voice’ in 1 Kings 19.11–12.
He said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.’ Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after
the fire a sound of sheer silence.
This is the ‘still, small voice of calm’
to which every organist responds, and this hymn is often sung when that text is read. Whittier’s point is that we,
like Quakers, should prefer silence to religious outburst, peace and calm
to complex theological pontifications and liturgical ludicrousness. We might therefore wonder what Whittier would have said had he lived to see his words set to music to be sung. The text is a poem, and in general, poems do not make good hymns (the words of George Herbert perhaps being the exception), and while many hymns are poetry, some are not, and certainly not all poetry makes for good hymnody.
As already noted, the Englishman C.H.H. Parry had no idea his tune would be used in this way, even though he served on the musical committee of the ill-fated A&M revision of 1904, for which he provided 12 hymn tunes, nine of which were composed specially. Repton, however, was lifted by George Gilbert Stocks, director of music at Repton School, from an aria in Parry’s oratorio Judith, entitled ‘Long since in Egypt’s pleasant land’. In May 1924 Stocks asked Parry’s son-in-law for permission:
‘We have found a tune in Parry’s Judith which exactly fits a hymn by Whittier, beginning “Dear Lord and Father of mankind”. The copyright of this belongs to Novello & Co. When I first asked leave to use this they refused point-blank, on the grounds that Parry never authorized it.’ Permission was eventually granted and history made when ‘Dear Lord and Father’ first appeared in Repton School
Hymns. The English Hymnal edition
of 1933 included it, and so from this strange and imperfect marriage of words and tune, both cut from larger works, came a classic, transatlantic, much-loved hymn.
Parry joined the staff of the Royal College of Music at 35, after having worked as a Lloyds underwriter. The Director of the RCM at the time was George Grove (1820–1900), creator of the seminal Grove Dictionary of Music. At 46, Parry succeeded him as Director, having become Professor in 1883. In 1898 he was knighted. In 1900 he succeeded John Stainer as Professor of Music at Oxford. Ralph Vaughan Williams and Gustav Holst were among his pupils. He died
in 1918 in Rustington, near Worthing,
a village that has given its name to another of his fine tunes. Parry is buried in St Paul’s Cathedral, in the crypt where members of the Order of the British Empire can have their family weddings or christenings. Like others, no doubt, I have stood on Parry’s grave and sung this hymn. One can only hope that neither he nor Whittier, who is buried in the Union Cemetery in Massachusetts, are turning in their graves at this wonderful, posthumous pairing of words and music.
Perhaps we need not concern ourselves too much with the intentions or expectations of the hymn’s creators. Here is a hymn that transcends its unorthodox origins to help us praise
God with a blend of passion and humility. The ‘simple trust’ and ‘gracious calling’ of the second verse appeal to a world in which many are ‘strained’ and ‘stressed’ by modern life. We can sing this hymn reverently and be transported to the Syrian shore where, like the disciples (and even Elijah) when they were called to lives of service, prayer and mission, we can hear God’s still, small voice emerging from the storms of life.
PRAYER
Father God, who in Jesus’ tender voice calls your disciples to abandon the strivings and stresses of this noisy world; breathe your Spirit upon us, that as we turn to you in quiet praise, our lives may be beautified by your peace, and hallowed by your love. Amen.
HYMN MEDITATION 25




































































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