AS WELL THE SINGERS AS THE PLAYERS ON INSTRUMENTS

Angels sing. We have no knowledge of the melodies or harmonies they might use, but it is recorded that they sang when the works of creation were founded; it is probable that they sang again when the Son of God was born in Bethlehem. Thus they expressed their joyous praise: the music gave wings to the words and the words gave meaning to the music.

We are not angels but we sing with varying degrees of success. Our hymns are the only occasions when we unitedly give voice to our praise, for we never otherwise pray aloud and our "amens" are scarcely audible. There is something unique therefore about our singing and it is deserving of a little more thought than is usually given to it.

Many of us enjoy good music and can well understand the relief felt by Saul when David's fingers fell upon the strings and his voice sounded in the brooding gloom. We can sense the inner quietness for which Elisha was seeking when he sent for a minstrel before the hand of the Lord came upon him. The call of the rams' horns outside Jericho echoes in our minds: the anticipation of battle stirs our blood when we see the battle horse described by the Lord to Job refusing to be stayed at the sound of the trumpet. Music soothes or rouses, brings serenity or a quickening of the pulse, according to the course of its rhythms and airs and blending instruments. When Jubal made the first harp and pipe he discovered the sympathy and response between sounds and feelings, and a new medium through which emotions can be expressed or stirred.

Many of these feelings are experienced by all who love music whether or not they think upon God or have any desire to know Him. Music becomes worship only when conscious thought directs it to that end. Indeed, music is but an aid, a means of expression, whereby an aspect of our physical and mental self is held to send forth praise. It has many moods like the face of the sea: grey and forbidding, wild and tumultuous, golden and serene, boisterous and dancing. On the sea of music we launch the vessel of our thoughts and words in a consciously Godward direction. Music without spiritual thought is not worship. In the use of music in our services we are therefore concerned more with worship than with the music itself. Let us illustrate this.

It is customary in some ecclesias for the organist to provide music before the commencement of the Sunday services. What is the purpose of this ? What should the purpose be ? Is it a time for the organist to display his skill and virtuosity ? Surely not. The very essence of the memorial service is that "no flesh should glory in his presence". There is then no room for personal gratification or for anything which detracts from the right spirit. Is the music intended to cover background noises of an assembling audience or to bring them to silence ? If this happens it should not in fact be necessary: we should already be quietly in our places. Would not the true reason be acceptable meditation by each of us provoked and aided by suitable music ? If audiences and organists alike kept this in mind all would be ready for communal worship when the president rose to his feet.

The same is true of those concluding phrases of music played in some meetings after the final prayer when the audience is again seated. Its purpose is not simply to hold us back before we break into noise of various kinds or to be the signal of dismissal; rather should it be a quiet lingering, a carrying over and onward of the thoughts of the service: this is often most suitably done when the organist selects a hymn which echoes the theme of the exhortation or the whole service.

Organs and organists have their limitations. So far as the organ is concerned we should see to it that whatever instrument we choose-and it need not be elaborate to be acceptable-is kept in reasonable condition. A little attention from time to time provided either by competent brethren or professional servicing can remove the common ailments of organs which hinder the organist and disturb the listeners. And what of the organists themselves ? No one would seek to criticize those, who though not fully competent, play for us simply because there is no one else to do it. But some of our difficulties do not arise on this account. They are due to lack of practice. In the same way that speakers and presiding brethren have need to prepare, so have organists. Either at home, at the meeting room, or elsewhere, organists should make themselves fully acquainted with the hymn book. As Paul said in another connection: "And even things without life giving sound, whether pipe or harp, except they give a distinction in the sounds, how shall it be known what is piped or harped?" If the organ gives an uncertain sound who shall prepare himself for the singing ?

Acquaintance with the hymn book means knowing both the music and the words. Take any of our hymns with four verses. These are four different verses and the organist should be aware of what they are. Having indicated the speed at which he will play the hymn by playing the opening line at just that speed before the congregation stands, so he will indicate the changes in mood of the words. Four verses, sixteen lines- sixteen lines of worship-and the good organist (not necessarily the most technically accomplished) will seek to indicate the feeling and meaning of the words. Because the organist is following the words first and foremost, he will use the music to give expression to them. Even a moderate instrument will make a distinction between joy and sorrow, death and resurrection, between, "loud triumphant chords", and "Cleanse me from all my sins".

An organist who devotes himself to the work allotted to him will find a ready response in his instrument and the congregation. He will anticipate the needs of the meeting and thereby find co-operation. More than one exhorting brother has felt that the preceding hymn, both in words and execution, has opened the door to let in the Word.
There is but one organist but almost all of us sing. How do we sing? The ideal should be: "I will sing with the understanding also." It is strange to think that although we sing the words, we still might sing without the understanding. We can be carried away by the melody and not notice that we are singing "He dies and leaves them all behind" as though we were sending a bride and bridegroom on their honeymoon. It is possible, even in our singing, to hear the words: "This people honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me." Let us try, then, to capture the spirit of the words: "Singing with grace in your hearts", and, "Singing and making melody in your heart". That is where the melody should be.

The purpose of our singing is not merely to give us a change of attitude or to provide those with reasonable voices an opportunity to show others what they are like. Singing is a continuity of our worship. "I, even I, will sing unto the Lord; I will sing praise unto the Lord God of Israel." That is our purpose.

If we keep in mind this purpose we shall harness the music and words to that service. Our desire is "to come before His presence with singing". Let us sincerely try to achieve it. If our thoughts are linked to the words, keeping the music in second place, we shall respond to the bursts of praise and to the quiet prayers and contemplation.

Jesus sang. His song was a prayer. When, as the last supper passed into the last hours of watching, and he was about to set out with the eleven, they sang a psalm. One of them sang supremely; not that his voice was better than theirs for we know not whether it was tenor or bass or baritone. He sang with his whole being. In the psalm concerned with the rejection of the cornerstone in which the sacrifice is bound to the altar, we read: "The Lord is become my song". Was there ever such a song ? or such a singer ?

Songs would seem to have no place on the night of betrayal, separation and loneliness; but the Son of God had discovered what it is to worship the God who "giveth songs in the night". Our singing is no mere playing upon the instrument of our voice ! We should learn to transcend such recitals and instead be instruments in the Lord's hand, brought to living music by being attuned to the key by which all things finally will vibrate: "Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord."
Some of us find it almost impossible to sing. Others sing and their listeners wish they did not. Therein lies a lesson. All of us should try to show fellowship and consideration in our singing. There should be conscious effort to support and not to dominate, to contribute and not to take away, to improve and not to mar the service of the whole meeting. Truly the Lord wishes to receive the sung praises of all of us, whatever varying ability we might possess, but it remains certain that our praise is more acceptable when our voice does not obtrude itself but seeks rather to be a part of the united praise.

Our heavenly Father desires us to sing. He has prepared for us a song which were we to know the words we could not now sing, for it is the very essence of the kind of singing we have been considering. It is a song prepared to satisfy the desire which the redeemed will feel when this mortal shall have put on immortality. All those voices will sing without any kind of impediment and one doubts very much that it will be necessary to learn the music. The Sun of the new heavens will be resplendent in glory and the countless stars and planets of the righteous will be in orbit around him, and they will break forth into the music of a new hymn-
"For ever singing as they shine, The Hand that made us is divine." 