A few days ago I read how one parish was using a midweek study group to focus on the hymnal. The group will ”look at the lyrics, the life and impact of poet and composer, as well as the theology” of one of the hymns planned for the following Sunday’s service. The description of the study acknowledges that in addition to the Holy Bible and Book of Common Prayer, The Hymnal is a key element in the Anglican tradition – informing “our faith, beliefs, opinions, and practices.” Certainly, the Bible comes first and carries the most importance and significance. However, the hymnal is the third book that shapes the Anglican worship experience, and that is a pretty big deal.
There is, next to the Bible and the Book of Common Prayer, a third book which informs
I find this outlook so appealing. At any given moment if not involved in conversation, I am more than likely humming, whistling, or singing something – usually whatever song happens to be in my head. Sometimes it is a stupid pop song, sometimes a righteous indie rock tune. Today it is a hymn and this hymn phenomenon is not so infrequent for me.
For me, praise in song is one of the most natural and satisfying forms of worship. Often, it isn’t until I hear scripture set in the context of melody and harmony that meaning and application of the Word becomes clear, and for better or worse I am much more likely to be able to sing you a hymn from memory than I am to recite verses of scripture.
The Hymnal is a book of eloquent poems, prayers, and praises - many with significant and historic roots. As I study the writings of the saints and apostles who have come before me, shouldn’t I also study the hymns they wrote?
I think another reason I am such a sucker for these old traditional hymns is the beautiful archaic syntax and vocabulary they display. As with Rite I worship, the nerd in me revels in words and phrases that I do not hear anywhere else: verily, ere, “it is meet and right so to do,” and all the humble beseeching that occurs.
Today I have been humming Of the Father’s Love Begotten. Not only is the translation totally mid-Nineteenth century, but the tune is a plain-song ditty from the Twelfth Century. That’s right. Some monks came up with this melody 900 years ago, and I am still singing it today. Chew on that, Britney.
Of the Father’s love begotten
Ere the worlds began to be,
He is Alpha and Omega,
He the Source, the Ending He,
Of the things that are, that have been,
And that future years shall see
Evermore and evermore.
Oh, that birth forever blessed
When the Virgin, full of grace,
By the Holy Ghost conceiving,
Bare the Savior of our race,
And the Babe, the world’s Redeemer,
First revealed His sacred face
Evermore and evermore.
O ye heights of heaven, adore Him;
Angel hosts, His praises sing;
Powers, dominions, bow before Him
And extol our God and King.
Let no tongue on earth be silent,
Every voice in concert ring
Evermore and evermore.
This is He whom Heaven-taught singers
Sang of old with one accord;
Whom the Scriptures of the prophets
Promised in their faithful word.
Now He shines, the Long-expected;
Let creation praise its Lord
Evermore and evermore.
Christ, to Thee, with God the Father,
And, O Holy Ghost, to Thee
Hymn and chant and high thanksgiving
And unending praises be,
Honor, glory, and dominion,
And eternal victory
Evermore and evermore.
