It is not a new thing to say that some music is appropriate and helpful for Christians and some is not. St. Basil the Great warned the young people of the 4th century against “contemporary music.”
The passions of illiberality and baseness of spirit are naturally occasioned by this sort of music. But we must pursue that other kind, which is better and leads to the better, and which, as they say, was used by David, that author of sacred songs, to soothe the king in his madness. And it is said that Pythagoras, upon encountering some drunken revelers, commanded the aulete who was leading their song to change the mode and to play the Dorian for them. They were so sobered by this music that tearing off their garlands they returned home ashamed… Such is the difference in filling one’s ears with wholesome or wicked tunes! And since the later type now prevails, you must have less to do with it than with any utterly depraved thing.
In approaching the matter of the selection of appropriate tunes for the hymnal we have been aware that some of this process is inevitably subjective. We have also been aware that many others have struggled with this same issue and reached the conclusion that there are objective musical (as well as theological) standards.
It is often asserted that the decision as to whether a hymn tune is good or bad rests upon personal predilection or prejudice. And it is said that, since opinions vary so much, the only practical criterion to follow is — will or will not this particular tune be singable and popular? Three tests, however, of a fairly objective character [are] indicated — nobility of rhythmical structure, beauty and fitness of melodic outline, and soundness of harmonic basis. To these may be added another characteristic, harder to define, but essential if the true objects of sacred music are to be fulfilled. A really good hymn tune ought to convey an impression of hopefulness and of spiritual vitality.
Truly these musical criteria are often “harder to define”, more illusive, than theological criteria, but it is wrong to think that this is merely an aesthetic matter (even for the purportedly agnostic Ralph Vaughan Williams).
It is indeed a moral rather than a musical issue. No doubt it requires a certain effort to tune oneself to the moral atmosphere implied by a fine melody; and it is far easier to dwell in the miasma of the languishing and sentimental hymn tunes which so often disfigure our services. Such poverty of heart may not be uncommon, but at least it should not be encouraged by those who direct the services of the Church; it ought no longer to be true anywhere that the most exalted moments of a church-goer’s week are associated with music that would not be tolerated in any place of secular entertainment.
It is a truly sad state of affairs that in the 20th century – despite St. Basil’s admonition against secular music – the Western Churches were making use of music of a quality which would not be tolerated even in secular music halls.
What are we to do? Some would argue for a steady diet of plainsong hymn tunes and we would agree that the best of these are the finest hymn tunes of the Western Church (e.g. Victimae Paschali). Realistically, however, few of our congregations are sufficiently musically skilled to maintain this diet, week after week, and there are not a sufficient number of tunes in each meter, nor is a tune necessarily “good” merely because it is “plainsong.” Conversely, others would argue for the “old favorites,” but this too presents many difficulties as articulated by the editors of The English Hymnal.
Where there is congregational singing it is important that familiar melodies should be employed, or at least those which have stood the test of time… The task of providing congregations with familiar tunes is difficult; for, unfortunately, many of the tunes of the present day which have become familiar and, probably merely from association, popular with congregations are quite unsuitable to their purpose. More often than not they are positively harmful to those who sing and hear them. The committee were therefore placed in the hard position of having to decide whether they should risk momentary unpopularity by discarding certain tunes, or whether they should sacrifice the greater ultimate good for the lesser and more immediate advantage.”
And what is an “old favorite” in one congregation may be a complete unknown in another.
Eventually we adopted a series of criteria for choosing music that is appropriate for our worship. First and foremost we wish to offer the very best we have to God in our worship. This points us in a general direction as we consider the conventions of music theory and judgements of music history, as well as the average musical knowledge and ability of our people. In our worship we praise the one who is “worthy” of our adoration and service. Whether the offering is a “lamb without blemish”, a “pure heart”, or the finest art of human expression, the Judeo-Christian understanding has always held that “only the best will do” in what we offer to God – otherwise we devalue our worship and make sad commentary on our relationship with the One we adore.
Of the criteria that were more objective: as a general rule (though not absolute), if a tune had been written for, or long associated with, a particular text we tended to accept it when other conditions were met. If a satisfactory match had not already been made we first (obviously) had to search for tunes of the same meter as the text and then determine which tunes possessed the same “mood” as that expressed within the text. It has been said many times that “music is to be the handmaid of the liturgy”; the text and tune must work together rather than against one another. A text such as St. Gregory the Great’s “O kind Creator, bow thine ear..” (in Example 2 above) could be sung to virtually any long meter tune, but the importance of successfully joining tune and text can be seen in the frivolous exercise of singing the third stanza of this hymn to the well known long meter tune Duke Street, instead of the more appropriate 16th century Jesu Dulcis Memoria.
Our sins are many, this we know;
Spare us, good Lord, thy mercy show;
And for the honor of thy Name
Our fainting souls to life reclaim.
At times, especially when dealing with an unusual meter (e.g 6.6.8.4.), we were able to find a suitable tune in a similar meter (e.g. 6.6.8.6) where a syllable could be elongated (in this case over three beats) or the text slightly altered (e.g. changing “have mercy Lord” to have “have mercy on us Lord”). In a few cases we solicited new tunes to be written for a particular text when a suitable tune could not be found, but we were particularly cautious about this, as any new tunes have not yet stood the “test of time.”
More of our criteria were, at least partially, subjective. Clearly a tune must be “singable.” In this we must remember that our congregations are not large, none have professional choirs to lead the singing, nor do we have the large “cathedral organs” envisioned by the composers of some tunes. We have not sought a musical “lowest common denominator”, but it must be possible that the musicians in our congregations, after sufficient preparation and in those physical circumstances available, might lead any offering within this hymnal. For a tune to be “singable” it must also have a good melodic line and be placed in an accessible key.
Keeping in mind Metropolitan Anthony Bashir’s injunction that we may make use of those portions of the post-schism Western heritage that are in agreement with the Orthodox faith, we have not limited ourselves to pre-11th century (pre-Schism) tunes (of which few exist in reliably authentic form) or to music from cultures that have been generally Orthodox (e.g. Greek or Russian). The restoration of Western Rite Orthodoxy involved an awareness that it is the Orthodox faith that matters, and that our expressions of the faith are largely cultural (hence Church music in Damascus is different from Church music in St. Petersburg, etc.). Post-schism Western music can hardly be considered “non-Orthodox” as long as other conditions are met. Thus we may draw from the best of Western hymnody of all centuries (16th century German Chorales, 17th century French Diocesan tunes, early 20th century English hymn tunes, etc.).
We did rule out music that was blatantly secular in origin no mater how well known or loved. Most people may not be aware that Greensleeves was a secular song about a prostitute, but it is not appropriate for our use because of its origin (even when joined to a Christian text, “What child is this?”). Likewise, the stirring tune Agincourt was judged unacceptable as it began as a hymn thanking God for a bloody English victory over the French. We decided that the associations people generally have with some tunes were simply too powerful; thus a good text and tune like “A mighty Fortress is our God”: Ein feste Burg was omitted because it will forever be the “hymn of the Reformation.” Within our own congregational setting we sometimes receive “feedback” based on association as we join a “new” text to an “old” tune. We rejected the American folk tune Bourbon, and others like it after singing the text “Take up thy Cross” to this tune and hearing people react to “country music” and saying that this tune was so completely different from anything else we had previously done. At other times we were able to make use of a strong association to tie an “old familiar” tune with a new text. The tune Aurelia could no longer be coupled with the text “The Church’s one foundation” due to the flawed ecclesiology expressed in that text. For catholic-minded Anglicans this tune has strong associations (because of its historic use with that text), calling to mind the invincibility of the Church and God’s protection of the Church through all adversity. We made use of this connection in combining Aurelia with the text “A Song, a Song of gladness” which speaks of the “Triumph of Orthodoxy” and the return of the icons to the Churches in the 9th century after the Iconoclastic controversy.
In our final criteria for selection we worked to avoid what was either “sentimental” or “fashionable.” These were clearly our most subjective categories. Much music that we would classify as “sentimental,” as having a strong intentional effect on the emotions, consciously patterns itself after the secular and popular music of the day. If one were to take the music to many old evangelical favorites (e.g. “I come to the Garden alone…”) or to virtually any song classified as “contemporary Christian” and change to words to those of a love song, nothing would seem “out of place”. This could not happen with a “good” hymn tune (e.g. Sydney Nicholson’s Crucifer). Music which aims for emotional effect can also interfere with the text. How many people will say “Great hymns this morning!”, because they enjoyed the music while not having a clue what the texts actually said.
In our worship we strive for many balances. One such balance is between offering a suitable cultural expression of our faith while avoiding what is overly dated, or merely “fashionable” or “trendy.” We have therefore decided that some styles are not appropriate for this hymnal. Having been through the test of time some 18th century tunes now seem too trite or superficial, some 19th century tunes too emotional, characterized by what some might call “schmaltz.” With the exception of a very few old folk tunes that have successfully made the transition to become hymns (e.g. the tunes Slane and King’s Lynn), we have avoided “folk music”. We likewise have avoided “contemporary Christian” music, not only because it is largely a poor copy of its secular counter-part and aims for emotional impact, but also because it is too much “of the moment” and our worship should be a joining of our “moment” with the eternity of God. Good music offered as an act of worship has the potential to help draw us out of our usual selves, touching us deeply, expanding our awareness, helping us to connect with one another and even connect with those who now sing closer to the throne of God.
It has been difficult to articulate our criteria for musical selection because so many of the factors could be considered mere “personal choice.” We have attempted to avoid falling into the trap of “I don’t know much about art, but I know what I like” by establishing these basic guidelines largely of what to avoid. Perhaps a slight parallel may be drawn with the Orthodox understanding of “apophatic theology.” Dionysius the Areopagite, in Concerning Mystical Theology (a work of tremendous influence within the Orthodox Church), wrote of two possible theological ways: in the positive way, we learn about God, we speak about God; in the apophatic way, the negative way, we acknowledge that God is so far beyond our ability to comprehend that it is ultimately better to say what God is not like rather than (in such a limited way) to say what God is like, and gradually by negation we are left with a clearer knowledge of God as He really is. In establishing criteria for what music is acceptable for our worship it has been easier to articulate what is not acceptable, and then make use of the best and most suitable of what remains.