Tacky Hymns 106

Continuing with the Lent section in the hymnal supplement All Creation Sings ...

918 is "Now is the time of grace" by Marty Haugen (b. 1950), with a refrain that can be sung in unison or as a two-part round. The accompaniment of the refrain is omitted. Meanwhile, the verses, which are marked to be sung by "Leader," are given with no music whatsoever, not even a melody. That's 2 tacks right there.

919 is "Remember that you are dust" (and to dust you shall return), the words spoken on Ash Wednesday during the imposition of ashes, also notated without accompaniment (possibly intended to be melody only), to be sung either in unison or as a two-part round. The tune is by Mark Mummert (b. 1965). It's the epitome of what I've been saying about this entire book: "Who even asked for this?" For being completely unnecessary if not detrimental to liturgical practice, and for omitting any accompaniment that may exist, 2 tacks.

920 is "All things of dust to dust return" by Thomas H. Troeger (b. 1945), to Thomas Tallis' (†1585) THIRD NOTE MELODY (cf. Vaughan Williams's Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis). In the first of three stanzas, Troeger extends the biblical statement that all flesh returns to the dust (Elihu in Job 34:15; see also Isaiah 40:6) to the cosmos, to cosmic dust, in addition to fish, birds, newborns and leaves that "revert to dust and clay." Stanza 2 asks God to "mark upon my brow this sign" (suggesting that the imposition of ashes is a divinely instituted sacrament) as a reminder of mortality, held up against God's immortality. Stanza 3 specifies that the mark should be cross-shaped as a further reminder that God joined us in pain and loss, "how death itself is but a flash that dies away in you." I suppose it's all right-ish, but it rather bosses God around, I think — considering that he didn't command the Ash Wednesday ritual as such — and it takes three double-period stanzas to arrive at one or two faint impressions of the atoning work of Christ, which should be clearly in focus. 1 tack.

921 is "Return to God" (first line: "In all affliction") by Marilyn Heckel (b. 1945). Its eight stanzas each consist of one phrase sung by "Leader," with a responding phrase by "Assembly," concluding with the unison refrain "return, return to God." It's notated as melody only, but the impression that an accompaniment has been omitted is borne out by a full measure of vocal tacet at the end of the refrain. And what's more, I can see how this piece could be notated to fit on the page with accompaniment. There's no excuse for the omission; for that and minimalistic monotony, 2 tacks.

922 is "When we are tested" by Ruth Duck (b. 1947), set to the Irish tune SLANE (cf. "Lord of all hopefulness," etc.), again without accompaniment. It's a hymn that metaphoricalizes Christ's temptation in the wilderness into a prayer for our times of groping for faith and being tested. And while everything it says is quite good, what it omits – the temptation narrative as such – means that to recognize the metaphor's point of reference, you have to bring prior knowledge or (gasp!) have listened to the Gospel lesson. 1-1/2 tacks.

923 is "As your Spirit in the desert" by Susan Palo Cherwien (b. 1953), to ROSEVILLE by Michael D. Costello (b. 1979), again without accompaniment. This hymn compresses Christ's sojourn in the desert into about two lines of its first stanza (application: "Let us cross into the wilderness so to walk where Christ has gone"). The next three stanzas move on to a similar application of Israel's journey through the wilderness, the wild beasts Christ encountered and the narrow gate, before a final stanza calls on "God of desert, God of promise" to "let us cross out of the wilderness to the rising of the dawn." There's some merit in it, but also a certain theme-over-details vagueness or generality and, once again, it doesn't really touch on the atoning work that, certainly in Lent, should be in sharp focus. 2 tacks.

924 is "As the winter days grow longer" by Mary Louise Bringle (cf. 901, 908) and set to SUO GÁN (cf. 901 again). Stanza 1 accents the atronomical significance of "Easter's dawning light," for which we Lenten people yearn: "God who blesses earth with springtime, shine within our world anew!" Stanza 2 turns from celestial phenomena to blossoming plants, and stanza 3 to our pilgrimage through Lent, finally asking for "sabbath joy." Again, everything it asks for is all right; but somehow it doesn't mention Christ or His atoning work. How do you forget that in writing a Lenten hymn, unless you mean to? 1 tack.

925 is "Beautiful things" (first line: "All this pain; I wonder if I'll find my way"), words and music by Michael (b. 1980) and Lisa Gungor (b. 1982). Again, the accompaniment is omitted, despite several bars of vocal tacet where it would be very helpful to see instrumental cues. The rhythm is of a pop-music persuasion and not of a character that conduces to congregational singing. It's a solo or ensemble piece to be sung at the congregation, and so I question why it needs to be in this book. Assuming that the "you" addressed in the lyrics is God, everything it says is all right, I suppose. But it says it in a casual, familiar register that could be mistaken for a secular love song, if you blur your focus on what it says "you" do (e.g. "make beautiful things out of the dust"). It has a couple lines that are meaningful to say to or about God, but the details are vague. 3 tacks.

926 is "Surely God is my salvation" by Zebulon M. Highben (b. 1979), based on Isaiah 12:2-6, set to the Hasidic melody YISRAEL V'ORAITA. Accompaniment omitted, it does have a brief descant part ("Sing hosanna!") in tiny notes. I don't know how catchy Gentile Lutherans will find its Hebrew musical stylings, such as that scale in which G-sharp and F-natural coexist. It could take a little practice, and you might have to have the little children teach it to the rest. Of course its material is biblical without being specifically Christian (like, no Trinitarian doxology or mention of Jesus), so take that for what it's worth. I'm plugging it with 1 tack for omitting the accompaniment.

927 is "Christ is the Life" (of all that is) by Cherwien, to COE FEN by Kenneth Naylor (†1991), without accompaniment. The first stanza riffs on Christ as God's creative word, arriving at the unexpected conclusion that His labor "brings all things to be and brings all things to death." The next two stanzas style Him "the death of all that is," with st. 2 tracing a strange argument about Him drawing us "from well-worn ways" to the womb(??), "past all desire and fear." Huh? St. 3 shifts its perspective to Christ as a consuming fire, demanding our prior selves for its pyre and destroying "uncreative strife." And finally, st. 4 returns to depicting Christ as the life of all, in summary, "creative force, most peaceful death, transforming burning brand," and calls on creation to bless "the Source, the living Christ" by which it lives and dies. Frankly, I think this kind of poem belongs in a volume of sacred verse to be read by Very Smart People, like the holy sonnets of John Donne and the Church poems of George Herbert, and not left lying around in a hymnal to disturb simple minds like yours and mine. 2 tacks.

I'd go on to the "Holy Week, Three Days" section but, at this point, I don't want to. We've covered 10 hymns today and stuck 17-1/2 tacks in them, and frankly, there isn't one of them that I consider really good for the catechetical and liturical purposes of hymn singing in the faithful Lutheran church. Our cumulative tackiness quotient, so far in this book, is about 113%.