"It Should Sound Like You're Praying"

“It Should Sound Like You’re Praying”

It’s been more than twenty years since Sue and I first walked through the red doors of St. Paul’s. That first Sunday, we were moved and impressed by so much: the beauty of the church, the warmth of the welcome, the authenticity of Fr. Hamilton’s preaching, the exuberant passing of the peace, and also the excellence of the music. Nothing in our background prepared us for the central role of music in the life of this church. Previously, I hadn’t given much thought to church music, hearing it as a kind of underscore meant to cover otherwise quiet parts of the service. That was definitely not the case at St. Paul’s! While the choir was quite good, I was even more impressed to see and hear that most people in the pews sang the hymns, maybe not always on key, but with reverence and joy. And, maybe most surprising of all, everyone seemed perfectly happy to sing every verse, no matter how long it took!

Over my years as a St. Paul’s parishioner, I came to know and love many of the hymns in The Hymnal 1982 and Lift Every Voice and Sing, gradually discovering church music’s power. However, not being much of a singer, I was content to offer just a quiet voice, easily drowned out (I hoped) by the rest of the congregation. That was more than enough for me.

When I was discerning a call to ordained ministry, I don’t think I gave much thought to my vocation’s musical aspects. But, when I arrived at General Seminary, I discovered that many of my classmates had sung in choirs for years, and some even had professional musical training. It quickly became clear that, musically, at least, I was way out of my depth. Occasionally at chapel services, what I had thought was my quiet singing voice would draw sideways glances from classmates. That was bad enough. Worse was the fact each of us seminarians had to audition with David Hurd, the brilliant, but (to me, anyway) pretty intimidating professor of church music (and organist, choir director, and composer). I remember waiting outside the classroom where the auditions were happening, listening as my classmates sang for him one by one. To my ears, they all sounded great, pushing my already high anxiety through the roof. By the time it was my turn, I felt like I was going to pass out. Professor Hurd asked me for my favorite hymn. In my moment of panic, I couldn’t think of even one hymn. As I looked at him blankly, he said, “If you don’t pick something, you’ll sing ‘Hark! The Herald Angels Sing’.” I said that was fine, found the page in the hymnal, and we began.

I don’t think I made it through “glory to the newborn king” before Professor Hurd stopped playing, waved his hands in the air, and said, “I think we have a problem.” My stomach dropped. It felt like a waking nightmare. I was ready to be sent packing, but, instead, he patiently played notes, asking me to listen and try to match pitch. After I finally settled down, I was able to do that, and the professor concluded that I was not tone-deaf, just a really bad singer!

Over the next few months, Professor Hurd generously worked with me one-on-one, focusing on chanting, which I would need to learn for the final exam. At home, I spent hours chanting along with a recording of the Thanksgiving Over Water from the Baptism service. In the end, I did OK, though, despite David Hurd’s best efforts, I could never quite manage to chant the word “water” without a Jersey accent.

Anyway, I felt a great sense of accomplishment – and a great relief to be done. And, I remember thinking that I probably would never serve in a church where I would be required to chant.

Wrong. I began my ordained ministry as a deacon at Grace Church in Madison. I had never expected to serve in a large suburban church like Grace, a place with many vibrant ministries, most especially an extraordinary music program led by the brilliant Anne Matlack. The adults, teenagers, and children in the choir were amazingly talented, singing lots of different music so very well. In my first few months, I was dazzled by it all, but gnawing at the back of my mind was the knowledge that once I was ordained a priest, I would stand at the altar in front of the choir (not to mention the congregation) and have to chant the Sursum Corda and the Preface.

When that moment arrived, just as I was about to begin, I looked out at the faces of the choir, little kids to senior citizens, most of them watching me with what seemed like a mix of curiosity and encouragement. Then, I stretched out my arms, took a deep breath, glanced down at the altar book, and began to chant, The Lord be with you…

Later, Anne Matlack helped me finally lose my nervousness about chanting. More than that, she reminded me of what all church music is supposed to be about, reminded me of what the church is supposed to be about, reminded me of what I am supposed to be about. I forget how it came up, but one day she commented about my chanting, “It should sound like you’re praying.” In the years since, I have often thought of those words, remembering that, while hitting the right notes is important, my responsibility - and our task together - is to pray.

Of course, everyone who knows the incomparable Gail Blache-Gill knows that she sees her work as ministry. No one can hear her sing without also hearing profound prayers offered to God. For many weeks now, Gail has been organizing our first musical event since the start of the pandemic: the Sixth Annual Choral Festival of Peace. Each year, this gathering of our own musical talent, joined by choirs from near and far, has been a deeply moving event, truly music as prayer. This year, we won’t be able to be together in person. That’s too bad, but it also frees us from worrying about transportation, parking, and getting home before dark. And, by presenting this year’s festival on the church Facebook page, our whole extended congregation, stretching from here to California, will be able to join us!

So, please mark your calendars for NEXT Sunday, September 13, at 4:00 pm. Join us on our church Facebook page (Facebook.com/StPaulsJC) for a time of beautiful music that will open our hearts, helping to create desperately needed peace. It will definitely sound like we’re praying!