I love Christmas! And I love the music of Christmas! My motto has been: if it's good enough for December, it's good enough for the rest of the year! And indeed, there were times back in the day when you could find me coming home and putting the classic vinyl LP The Joy of Christmas on the old turntable and giving it a spin-even in the summer! Showing some degree of restraint, at Sound of Majesty, we've held off our Christmas music offerings until the first Sunday of Advent, December 3. (Full disclosure--you will hear a few selections beginning the Friday after Thanksgiving. But that's just a small foretaste of what's to come!)

Beginning on December 3, you'll hear a round-the-clock, ad-free stream of Christmas music. Do you enjoy the majestic choral sounds of great choirs? You'll hear them-the Cambridge Singers, the Robert Shaw Chorale, and others. Are you a fan of more recent vocal ensembles? Not to worry-we have Voces 8 and the King's Singers ready for you. How about some orchestral offerings? For that, there's the Philiadelphia Orchestra, the London Brass, and more.

I think you'll find the musical mix to be one that is a delight to have on as you go about your busy life this December. Whether at the office, in the car, or relaxing quietly, why not plan to have Sound of Majesty as your companion this Christmas? And as always, the orginial Sound of Majesty programs will continue to air on alternate hours on the stream. And they too will be filled with wonderful Christmas music!

And here's some great news! We now have our own Sound of Majesty app! It's available for both iPhone and Android devices, and it makes listening simple. These apps also interface nicely with many newer vehicle audio systems, which makes listening on the go a pleasant experience! Of course, if you prefer, you can still listen on your computer, or through other selected methods. But we encourage you to try out the app! Just click below to download the version for your device (iPhone or Android).

Christmas-the most wonderful time of the year! Share in all the music with us!

CLICK BELOW TO DOWNLOAD THE SOUND OF MAJESTY APP!

Charles Jennens                                                                                                                                                                  George Frideric Handel

Who wrote Handel's Messiah?

It sounds a bit like that old trick question Who’s buried in Grant’s tomb? And the answer to the question about Messiah seems as obvious as the answer to the identity of the person buried in Grant’s tomb. But I’m beginning to believe it isn’t as obvious.

Now before you haul me before the musicology police, I’m not proposing some kind of new conspiracy theory about the authorship of this iconic composition (though it might make an interesting movie plot: Jean-Philippe Rameau secretly comes from France and helps Handel with that famous French overture that begins Messiah). No, everybody knows that Handel’s Messiah is……well, Handel’s Messiah. In fact, how many other musical works can you name that so consistently pair the composer with the work—almost as if the name Handel is part of the title of the piece. Ask any concertgoer headed out the door at Christmas what they’re going to hear, and I’ll bet nine out of ten will say “Handel’s Messiah,” not just “Messiah.”

I’m finding myself in a bit of immersion mode with Messiah these days. I’m in the middle of teaching a four-week class on the piece at my church. It’s amazing what preparing a class does to make you appreciate what you’re teaching. And my current musical hero is actually not Handel (no disrespect intended) but…..drum roll please…..Charles Jennens. What? You haven’t heard his name? I’m not surprised.

Jennens is the man responsible for Messiah’s libretto (a fancy word for the text, or words used in a composition). Now you probably know that Messiah’s text is taken entirely from Scripture. But Jennens is the man who brought those various Scriptures together, choosing one from this book, another from that book, and giving them order and shape. It turns out that Jennens dipped into fourteen books of the Bible for his libretto. Half of those are Old Testament books, and half New Testament. With amazing dexterity, Jennens deftly moves from one Scripture passage to another, sometimes skipping over massive amounts of Biblical territory (one notable example is the way in which he juxtaposes, in one aria, a passage from Isaiah with one from the Gospel of Matthew). It’s enough to make a preacher envious of his hermeneutical skills!

And that’s what has struck me most as I’ve studied Messiah these days. If you’re anything like me, you’ve grown up with Handel’s Messiah. You probably attended the so-called “Christmas portion” of the piece when December rolled around. Maybe you sang the entire work in college (although I’m willing to bet that something was cut from the performance!). But if you have a long history with Messiah, here’s what I’ll bet you feel: you hear the unfolding of the drama as though it was appearing in Biblical order. It’s as if the oratorio spins out the storyline so perfectly, that we’re left assuming that it’s the order in which the Bible tells it—even if we know our Bibles well enough to know better.

And that is the contribution of Charles Jennens. As far as we can tell, Handel made very few significant changes in the arrangement of texts that Jennens gave him in 1741. In just over three weeks, Handel composed one of the world’s all-time masterpieces. But Jennens is the often-unsung hero—the man without whom there would be no “Handel’s Messiah.” From all indications, Jennens was intent not only on giving Handel a great libretto as grist for his compositional skills, but he was doing it out of spiritual conviction. At the time of Messiah’s writing, England was in the throes of Enlightenment Deism, a philosophical outlook that seriously called into question any belief in divine revelation. While God may exist, said the Deist, he certainly has no personal or fatherly interest in humanity. Scripture, if it is to be referred to at all, can be understood with our own rational intellect. It’s easy to see how this sort of thinking leaves no room for the very things that Jennens’ libretto so boldly asserts. And from what we can tell, Jennens meant it as a direct counterattack on this sort of Deistic thinking. He wrote to a friend in July 1741: “I hope I shall persuade [Handel] to set another Scripture Collection I have made for him….I hope he will lay out his whole genius and skill upon it, that the composition may excel all his former compositions, as the subject excels every other subject. The subject is Messiah.”

Bravo Mr. Jennens! I know it doesn’t roll off the tongue easily, but next time someone asks you what music you’re headed out to hear, try saying “I’m going to hear Handel and Jennens’ Messiah." It just might start an interesting conversation!

I’m an American…. born and bred….and I’m glad to be one. Our system of government—one of representation by the people—is indeed a grand experiment. And I think it’s still a viable one. I’m grateful for it. Still, I confess that there are times I wish I’d been born a Brit. Those wistful thoughts usually coincide with something going on in Westminster Abbey—a wedding, a funeral, or as just took place, a coronation.

Although King Charles III has officially worn the crown since May 6, I have just gotten around to watching video of the coronation ceremony. My wife and I sat transfixed for more than two hours as we watched the pomp and circumstance of British pageantry play out before us. I honestly can’t think of anything in our American culture that comes close to what we witnessed taking place in London. It prompts me to make a few observations:

1) Let’s start with that word pomp. I recognize that it has a rather unsavory connotation in our ears. It tends to make us think of other words like haughty, conceited, arrogant, or pretentious. We envision someone “putting on airs” and thinking of themselves, as the apostle Paul would say “more highly than they ought to think.” Our contemporary American culture isn’t much in favor. But I wonder what we’ve lost by becoming devoted populists. Is it possible that something deep inside each of us craves the beauty and awesomeness (in the sense of inspiring awe) of the kind of pageantry we see acted out in ceremonies like the recent coronation? Are we starving for a glimpse of order and propriety that is inherent in ceremonies like the crowning of a monarch?

2) This one may raise some eyebrows! I loved seeing the wave that resulted as people lining the aisles in Westminster Abbey bowed as the king passed by. One after another--sometimes a woman with a shallow curtsey, and sometimes a man with subtly bowed head—these subjects acted out their humble position in relation to the monarch passing before them. I confess it was one of the most moving moments for me as I watched the ceremony. Here’s why I think that is: something in our souls knows that we aren’t the last word. As much as we may try to make it so, the universe doesn’t revolve around us and our puny aspirations. So now, here comes something—or someone—who is more important than we are. And by bowed head we acknowledge that fact. In the case of a king, it is another flawed human being, and thus we are not called to worship him. And it would be wrong to do so. But what if this “little obeisance” is a mere shadow of an ultimate worship that each of us is called to? A worship that will some day be performed by every living creature. (Philippians 2: 9-11)

3) For those who know their Old Testaments, it is hard to miss the echoes of king/prophet relationships found there. I was struck by the way that Archbishop Justin Welby seemed to perform two roles during the coronation: at one moment, he was charging King Charles with his solemn duties as a reigning monarch. At another moment, the archbishop was kneeling before the king, pledging his own allegiance. I found myself thinking of the ways in which God’s prophets lived faithfully under the rule of a king, and yet when given words by God, were able to fearlessly charge that same king with his responsibilities before God. Even if imperfect, could this be a picture of what the Church might look like as Christians live as “aliens and strangers,” respecting the government ordained by God, and at the same time, bravely proclaiming “Thus saith the Lord?”

4) Finally, ceremonies can be powerful metaphors for ultimate reality. Try this: next time you attend a wedding, instead of studying the bride’s dress choice, or counting how many attendants there are, envision the bride as the ultimate Bride—the Bride of Christ. Think about Paul’s words to the Ephesians when he describes Christ as the one who will ultimately “present (the Church) a glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish.” (Eph. 5:27) And then think of the coronation that has just taken place. If seeing the pomp of this earthly ceremony gives you goosebumps, what might the coronation of the King of kings and Lord of lords be like?

And when the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks to Him who sits on the throne, to Him who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders will fall down before Him who sits on the throne, and will worship Him who lives forever and ever, and will cast their crowns before the throne, saying, “Worthy are You, our Lord and our God, to receive glory and honor and power; for You created all things, and because of Your will they existed, and were created.” (Rev. 4:9-11)

I guess you could say I’m a sucker for a well-crafted turn of phrase. I’m not a poet, so maybe it’s something of an envious wish that I could be a cleverer wordsmith myself. But whatever causes lie behind it, when I hear a well-turned phrase, it can make its way deep into my psyche.

That’s why I think preachers should be poets. One of my former pastors, though he might deny it, was something of a poet. No, he didn’t preach in iambic pentameter, nor did his homiletical phrases rhyme. But he could craft a sentence in such a way that you not only understood the theological truth in the statement, but you felt that truth deep in your soul. It was a gift that he shared with his congregation Sunday by Sunday.

It was from that preacher that I first heard of John Updike’s poem Seven Stanzas at Easter. As I recall, I don’t think the poem’s title was mentioned, and I’m certain that my pastor didn’t quote anything like the entire seven stanzas. But as the poem took up the theme of the resurrection, here is what struck like an arrow to my soul:

Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign
painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.

Easter can be such a sweet, even syrupy holiday. It comes at a time in the year that many of us are ready for the warmth of spring, the return of flowers, and the rejuvenation that comes with the end of long, cold winter months. It’s easy to associate Easter with these welcome changes. Something similar can happen when we think—even as Christians—about Christ’s resurrection. Isn’t it wonderful that God raised Jesus to life (just like the appearance of these beautiful flowers poking up from the hard ground). He lives! He lives! He lives within my heart! And if we aren’t careful, that cry, good as it is, can become the sum total of what we believe about the resurrection. And taken to its logical extreme, Jesus’ resurrection can be more like a spiritual happening in our lives, than a real, embodied event in history.

And so Updike’s poem assaults us with the warning to not make Jesus’ bodily resurrection anything less than what it was: a dead man who got up and walked out of a tomb on a particular Sunday morning two millennia ago. To make it anything less than that is indeed to mock the God who raised Jesus by shrinking the shocking reality into some sort of metaphor of spring rejuvenation.

And so it remains for us to walk through the door. To let this dazzling reality so assault us that we begin to understand the apostle Paul when he says: “the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are unseen are eternal.” Yes, eternal. Yes, unseen with the physical eye. But no less real for that. And to live with the certain hope that, on that Sunday in Palestine, a real man, who was also God's Son, who had been really dead, really did rise and walk out of his tomb. Believing that will change everything!

www.soundofmajesty.org

Greetings to friends both old and new!

Whether you’re discovering Sound of Majesty for the first time, or are one of my old friends . . . it’s wonderful to have you here! Let me tell you just a bit about how this website came about.

I was a part of Moody Radio in Chicago from 1990 to 2012. During those years, I was involved in a number of different programs, but one that has remained close to my heart is a program that I helped birth—Sound of Majesty. A mix of hymns, sacred classics, and other classical music, the program was aired by Moody Radio for nearly all of my tenure at the network.

Just before my wife and I retired and left the Chicago area, a former colleague mentioned to me that he had noticed a number of Sound of Majesty programs in storage at Moody. I began wondering if there might be a way to once again make these programs widely available to listeners. The folks at Moody Radio graciously agreed to allow me the use of these programs, and that brings us to where we are today.

The new Sound of Majesty website is now home for these hour-long broadcasts, as well as a round-the clock stream of wonderful sacred and classical music. You'll find the original Sound of Majesty broadcasts spread throughout the entire day and night, so that one of them is never far away! My hope is that the website will also become a resource for helping you think about our wonderful heritage in the music of the church, particularly our hymnody. In that light, I hope you’ll explore our podcast The People’s Song. Each new edition of the podcast will explore another great hymn or gospel song, with some thoughts on the theology of its text and implications for our faith.

I’m excited to begin this new venture! I hope you’ll visit www.soundofmajesty.org often, and that you’ll share the website with your friends. And please . . . drop me an email while you’re at our site! I’d love to make a new friend, and hear from an old friend too!

Greg Wheatley