For most of us, Handel’s Messiah is “The Hallelujah Chorus.” Understandable, inevitable even. It stands alone so well as a glorious anthem of praise. It is so fittingly placed in the oratorio that many, upon their first hearing of the full work, assume it is the ending of Messiah. After all, how can anyone ”top that?!”

This week we look at this familiar and quintessential Messiah chorus in context, as we take a quick walk through the ending of Part Two (most of which will not be sung on Sunday, April 1). While “Hallelujah” is a fitting conclusion to an Easter service (and yes, we will again use it that way this year at College Church), and while it’s certainly OK as a way to wrap up the Christmas portion (though I have long refused to do that, myself), its actual place in the oratorio is both fitting and stunning. Because in context what is being celebrated is the Messiah as judge.

After the Chorus sings “Lift up your heads,” two more scenes of this drama unfold the worship due to this resurrected Jesus, and the opposition that is also levied against him. Heavenly worship and gospel proclamation are contrasted with the reality that surfaced immediately in the church, opposition as pictured in Psalm 2.

First, the tenor asks, in the words of Hebrews 1, “Unto which of the angels said he at any time, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee?” To which the chorus continues in reply: “Let all the angels of God worship Him.” The Alto continues, from Psalm 68: Thou art gone up on high, Thou hast led captivity captive and received gifts for men, yea even for Thine enemies, that the Lord God might dwell among them. Chorus: The Lord gave the word: great was the company of the preachers. (Psalm 68:5 and 6) What about that company? The Soprano describes them from Romans 10: How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things! Chorus: Their sound is gone out into all lands, and their words to the ends of the world. (Romans 10: 15, 18)

Now there is a scene change, and we get a glimpse of the action in Acts 4 – and a picture of the world against the gospel in every age. The Bass asks: Why do the nations so furiously rage together? And why do the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth rise up, and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord, and against his anointed. (Psalm 2:1-2; this aria will be sung on April 1) The Chorus takes up the psalm, speaking the words of the nations/rulers against the Lord: Let us break their bonds asunder, and cast away their yoke from us. (Ps.2:3) The Tenor speaks of God: He that dwelleth in heaven shall laugh them to scorn; the Lord shall have them in derision. (verse 4) and to God: Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; Thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.

So, from resurrection and ascension, through worship and proclamation, to opposition and judgment. Only then do we fully apprehend the glory and the praise expressed in “Hallelujah.” Look up the source of this chorus, in Revelation (chapter 19 and 15), and you’ll see (yet again!) that the Rev. Mr. Jennens got it right: “Hallelujah” is the biblical response to judgment and the victory of God. How we cultured modern people need to understand this:

Hallelujah! For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. Hallelujah! The kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ; and He shall reign forever and ever. Don’t lose sight of those many repeated “forever and ever”s. There’s another bit of rhetoric, choosing to repeat just the right motif to get the point across. And yet, when sung well – and I dare say, you’ll hear this sung very well indeed – “forever and ever” is not interminable! King of kings, and Lord of lords; and He shall reign forever and ever. Hallelujah!

The oratorio has reached a pinnacle, but we have not yet heard nor sung all that may be said of the Messiah. Part Three gets very personal. And we’ll look at that next week.

Sing on!

Chuck King

In 1971, the world was introduced to – and the Church was shocked by – the “rock opera” Jesus Christ Superstar. Among the many critiques, Christians were quick to point out that the musical stopped short of the resurrection. Cultural critics speaking in defense of the new work argued that Handel’s Messiah also does not include the resurrection.

That is interesting to me – more interesting to me now than when this was all new and I was a brand-new teenaged Christian – because it suggests that Messiah was brought into the discussion as some sort of recognized “standard” against which any story-telling about Jesus was compared. It is also interesting because it is so blatantly incorrect.

Granted, Charles Jennens did not include scripture detailing the empty tomb and the appearances of Jesus; that is correct. But the resurrection marks everything else in the remainder of the oratorio. And, as we shall see, all of Part Three is the testimony of every believer to the resurrection of Jesus. But in keeping with the story-teller’s art – show, don’t tell – only one brief sentence is sung about the resurrection proper: the Tenor sings a brief aria: “But Thou didst not leave His soul in hell, nor didst Thou suffer Thy Holy One to see corruption.” (And, here again, the words are from the psalms – 16:10 – and not the New Testament. The richness of the biblical theology of Messiah continues to amaze and impress.)

This succinct, almost oblique statement of resurrection is followed by one of the more familiar choruses from the work: “Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty; the Lord, mighty in battle.” (Psalm 24:7-10) Coming so quickly, so seamlessly after the Passion portrait that begins Part Two, this chorus expresses the preaching of Peter (Acts 2:36) and the apologetics of Paul (1 Cor. 2:8): Let all know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified . . . None of the rulers of this age understood this, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.

While on April 1 we will skip across much of the next portion of Part Two, I want here to finish this “scene” – Of this “King of glory” the Tenor continues (from Hebrews), “Unto which of the angels said he at any time, Thou art my son, this day have I begotten Thee?” And the chorus again replies/continues: “Let all the angels of God worship Him.” (Part of this chorus foreshadows the Hallelujah chorus, with a musical motif we will hear there in “and he shall reign.”)

No resurrection in Messiah? Then whence all this glory, all this worship, all this praise? No, as we shall see next week, in the remainder of Part Two, the resurrection is all over this oratorio. But we “see” it not because we “see” Jesus, but because we see and know him at work. And that is why we

Sing on!

Chuck King

Part Two of Messiah by George Frederic Handel is introduced by the Chorus, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” This text serves as a kind of overture to the middle portion of the oratorio. In the previous post we looked at the Lamb despised and rejected. He was wounded for our transgressions, and the chastisement of our peace was upon him. While humans go blithely on their way, ignorantly or willfully turning each to our own way, “the Lord has laid on Jesus the iniquity of us all.”

But the sacred oratorio, being good biblical theology, will not leave us in ignorance. The next sequence of recitatives, arias, and chorus highlight the culpability of all humanity – the iniquity “of us all.”

But first, a couple of technical terms! The soloists in Messiah sing two types of pieces – recitative and aria. You can see the word “recite” in recitative. When a soloist “recites” they sing a text only one time (there is rarely repeated words or phrases), in a short segment, moving the action or narrative along. An “accompanied recitative” is more melodic, and is accompanied by the orchestra, dramatically. When the tenor sings, “All they that see him laugh him to scorn,” the orchestra plays the same aggressive rhythmic figure we explored last week with the Alto aria (“He gave his back to the smiters”) and the chorus (“Surely he hath borne our griefs”). Another type of recitative (the “dry” recitative because of its more skeletal musical support) is more like speech than melody, and is accompanied by a fairly static keyboard part, and a single bass instrument. We heard this type of recitative in the Christmas portion, when the soprano sang “And the angel said unto them, fear not for I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people.” In our April 1 performance, we will hear a “dry recitative” near the end when the Alto sings/speaks: “Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written . . .”  So, two ways of presenting fairly direct speech-in-song; two ways to move the action along or to introduce text that calls for a bit more reflection or contemplation.

And when the soloists also sing those more reflective texts, they are called “aria.” Arias often follow the recitatives, and are sung by the same soloist. Arias dwell more on the text, repeating words and phrases as we have already experienced in the choruses. In Messiah there are two standard structures – a two-part structure (A and B), where the mood, tempo, and/or character changes between the parts; and a three-part structure (A, B, then a repeat of A), where after the contrasting section the opening section is repeated or reprised. Here again, as with all repeated text in this oratorio, the decisions about structure in the arias gives the listeners some clue as to the biblical and theological importance of the text.

So, with that background, the next items in our walk through Messiah move away from the Chorus (which dominates the first part of the Passion account) to the Tenor soloist. In a series of short pieces he sings (in an Accompanied Recitative) “Thy rebuke hath broken his heart; he is full of heaviness. He looked for some to have pity on him, but there was no man, neither found he any to comfort him.” Uncharacteristically of recitatives, Handel does repeat text here, and note what he highlights: “he is full of heaviness,” and the whole last half of the text “He looked for some … neither found he any to comfort him.” (The iniquity of us all.)

The tenor segues to a little aria (Arioso) -”Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto His sorrow.” This short Aria presents the text straight-forwardly, and repeats it entire. Behold! Look! Gaze upon this man. The tenor continues, in what is probably the briefest item of the whole oratorio, concluding the Passion of Jesus with another accompanied recitative: “He was cut off from the land of the living; for the transgression of Thy people He was stricken.”

Note that word, “transgression.” Part Two began by highlighting the sin of the world. Then later we hear of the iniquity of us all. Here, at the end of the suffering of the Lamb, we are confronted by the final word in the biblical charge against us, transgression. Throughout the Old Testament, in particular, we often read these three terms together or in close proximity. They are generally synonymous, but with some particularity of meaning. Together they describe our condition apart from God’s grace. And here we find that Jesus has borne all so that we might be freed of our sin, iniquity, and transgression.

That is a good place to pause. And we are almost to the middle point of our Messiah presentation on April 1. In this season of reflection prior to Easter, this is a good place to stop and consider: “Behold, the Lamb of God! He takes away the sin of the world. The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all. For our transgression He was stricken.” And we are soon to see that with this Lamb of God, God was well pleased.

Sing on!

Chuck King

“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” With those words Part Two of Mesiah begins. Behold is just a way of saying, Look! Pay Attention! The text of Messiah then unfolds the scene of the Lamb taking away the sin of the world.

Mr. Handel, working with the “book” provided by Rev. Jennens, undertakes some masterful story-telling. The entire “Passion” of Jesus is related through the text of the prophet Isaiah. That is, we are shown the mighty act of God by way of looking back at what God said would take place. Interestingly, the portrait from the prophet is more telling than the description in the gospel. Employing four verses from Isaiah chapter 53, the music takes nearly 20 minutes to illustrate the suffering of the Lamb for us.

The Alto sings: He was despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. (53:3) He turned his back to the smiters, and his cheeks to them that plucked off the hair; he hid not his face from shame and spitting. (Isa. 50:6) In the first part of this Aria, the instruments and the voice use two musical devices to portray sorrow and grief. One is a little motif of two falling notes, very close to each other in pitch, the first (higher) having just a little more emphasis than the second. It sounds like sighing. The other is a longer descending line of pitches, creating discord as the notes depart from chords prematurely and lead to but do not settle into the next chord. “A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.”

Then the character changes, quite dramatically. “He gave his back to the smiters” . . . the instruments become aggressive, galloping, battle-like. That same rhythmic figure, that forcefulness, accompanies the choir as they continue in Isaiah: Surely he hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. He was wounded for our transgressions. He was bruised for our iniquities. The chastisement of our peace is upon him. (53:4,5) Under the choral parts, the instruments battle away with this inexorable smiting, this aggressive beard-yanking and spitting.

The choir, meanwhile, sings the same rhythm in the word “Surely,” then long drawn phrases with  ”he hath borne our grief . . . ” And as with the accompaniment of the Alto Aria, the choir now sings in long shifting, yearning, sorrowing lines, “He was wounded for our transgressions . . . ” And finally, painting text yet more vividly, we hear the words onomatopoeically striking the bruising blows, “the chastisement.”  Under it all through this chorus, the orchestra drives the battle rhythms to the end.

With the Chorus, “And with his stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5), we hear two themes. A 4-note theme hammers home the point, “And with his stripes,” much the same way as we just saw with ”the chastisement.” (Not that the themes are the same, but that the effect is the same.) This is followed by a long, meandering theme – never the same among the voice parts, nor when repeated in each voice part. “And with this stripes we are healed” – the contrast to the “stripes” is a complicated, constantly changing, contrasting and almost soothing expression “we are healed.” Over and over through the chorus voice parts enter to remind us from whence the healing flows (“And with his stripes”), until finally all four choral voices blend their final particular way to the outcome of those horrible stripes: “we are healed.”

We do not lose sight that all this is showing us “The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” We are reminded that it is for us that the Lamb is despised and rejected. All we, like sheep, have gone astray; we have turned everyone to his own way, and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:6) The musical contrast might almost be jarring at this point. The accompaniment is downright cheerful by contrast to the previous 15 minutes of suffering and grief. I believe this serves to illustrate how little we esteemed him (Isa. 53:3b), that in the midst of him taking away the sin of the world, the chorus so brightly chirps that we have gone astray. Two things to listen to here; they are contrasts – first listen to the choir sing “have gone astray” and hear how the notes go all over the place. Also, hear the word “turned,” as the choir sings in long series of musical “turns” (the moving of notes above and below an established pitch). This chorus is fun to sing (and not a little difficult!), and I think chorus and audience are meant to both enjoy it and wonder whether it is in fact appropriate. We seem to carry on blithely in our straying and turning – perhaps enjoying the pleasures of sin for a season? (Hebrews 11:25, KJV) – while the Lamb suffers. Then, with the Lamb upon the cross (the oratorio shows, it doesn’t tell) we are suddenly caught up short with the reminder: “and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.” All lightness and frivolity are gone. We are forced to recall the opening statement of Part Two:

Behold, the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world.”

Sing on,

Chuck King

Part Two of Messiah, by George Frederic Handel, begins solemnly and dramatically with the words of John the Baptist: “Behold, the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world.”

The Christmas portion just concluded (Part One) has brought the listener to this declaration. Following the announcement of the glory of God to the Judean shepherds, we learn about the purpose for the coming of the Christ: “He shall feed his flock like a shepherd.” And we are invited to “Come unto Him, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and he will give you rest. Take His yoke upon you and learn of Him. His yoke is easy, and His burden is light.”

Part Two then identifies the shepherd as also the Lamb of God, God’s own sacrifice to take away the sin of the world. This Lamb, the Christ, will give rest to our souls by the suffering that is depicted in the first half of this section. John’s declaration is bold, and solemn; it is full of conviction, and it is sorrowful. As each voice part enters – first the alto, then soprano, followed by bass and finally the tenor – the first pitch is in the lower register of the voice (“Be-”) with an immediate leap up one full octave (“-hold”). It is an arresting statement, musically forcing the sense of the word: “Behold!” Pay attention! Look! (The tenor leap of an octave is delayed to the end of the phrase, emphasizing that this Lamb is from God for us; he is the “Lamb”[low G] “of God” [high G].

Messiah is full of word-paintings like that “Behold.” In these posts I will be pointing out some of the more significant and noticeable ones. When as musicians we get these right; when we identify the word/music interplays and sing them well and meaningfully, the listener perceives and tracks what is going on, without necessarily having to cognitively mark them. In the era in which Handel lived, there was a well-developed tool-kit of rhetorical devices to let music express particular feelings, so that whether or not there were words, the music “meant” something. One of those devices in this opening chorus is a stylized rhythm that is present in all but 7 measures – a rhythmic figure that was meant to represent mourning and lament. That rhythm most notably carries the words “Lamb of God” and “taketh away.”

We won’t spend a full post on each chorus, but it is helpful perhaps to establish some of these ideas at the outset, within a single chorus. The principle of musical rhetoric will come up a lot, and as already noted, we will point to the main, important, obvious details to listen for. Another feature to address early is the ubiquitous repetition of phrases.

When approached by an English bishop with a commission to compose some sacred music, the bishop offered suggestions to Handel about how the scriptures might be set to music. Complaining privately about this, Handel reportedly groused, “I think I know my Bible as well as any bishop!” And, truly, he appears to have known the Bible very well indeed. And though English was certainly Handel’s third spoken language (and the fourth language for which he wrote music), for the most part he seemed to know the English Bible with its particular nuances. The Scriptures of Messiah were chosen by an English clergyman, but G.F. was the one who decided how the text worked with the music, including what to repeat. Over and over again, I am impressed with the theological importance of words and phrases that are repeated. Musically, there are almost no simple note-for-note repetitions, but rather subtle (or dramatic) changes enhance the meaning and the feeling of a given text, so that by the end of a chorus or aria, we have been treated to a richness of meaning through varied expression.

So, while it takes just moments to quote the Baptist’s cry, “Behold, the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world,” musically we are treated to about 2 and 1/2 minutes of reflection. It is arresting, contemplative, and mournful. We are being prepared for the suffering of the Lamb in the immediately following numbers. You hear throughout Messiah that certain Scriptures are set very plainly, barely more music and than speaking. The compser made a devotional and theological decision here to not rush through this simple exclamation.

And that lingering and looking at Jesus that is why we are presenting Messiah on Sunday, April 1. “Behold! And see if there be any sorry like unto his sorrow.”

Sing on,

Chuck King

You’ll remember the big splash made a few years ago with the Mel Gibson film, “The Passion of the Christ.” One of the disputed features of the film was the graphic portrayal of the suffering of Jesus on his way to, and upon, the cross. Was it over the top? I did not see the film, but by all accounts the gore of this mighty act of God in redemption was not overplayed. The question is, was it necessary in order to tell the story?

We have seen that in Handel’s portrait of Jesus, the Messiah, he actually points more than he paints. But this is far from a dispassionate account of the biblical theology of redemption. It is in fact full of passion; and even though that is expressed in musical rhetoric from the 18th century, it has vibrantly communicated to every generation since its appearance in 1742. In these columns we are introducing Messiah in anticipation of our April 1 performance of Parts 2 and 3: the Easter portion.

With the first notes of Part two we are thrust into the Passion (the word comes from the Latin word for suffering) of Jesus: ”Behold, the Lamb of God.” Then follows an extended meditation from Isaiah 53 and other Old Testament passages; a meditation that shows us all we need to know (while describing nothing!) of his suffering and death. The resurrection itself is obliquely mentioned (“But you did not leave his soul in hell, nor allow your holy one to see corruption”). What kind of story-telling is this? The most amazing event in history consigned to a single sentence! Here the genius of Messiah reaches a peak – as good writing instructors say: show, don’t tell. And so through the remainder of Part Two we see the work of the resurrected, ascended, Spirit-sending Christ: active around the world in the Church, and though opposed, victorious. Hallelujah!

The third and most personal part of Messiah dwells on the reality of the Resurrection: He lives, we too shall live; thanks be to God. The chorus “Worthy is the Lamb” crowns the oratorio, and the extended Amen lifts our gaze to the Christ who is “The Amen,” in whom all the promises of God are “Yes!” Over the next few weeks we will walk through the full “Easter portion” of Messiah and gaze upon Jesus as we go.

Sing on!

Chuck King

If George Handel – or, more accurately, Charles Jennens, the clergyman who compiled the Scriptures for “Messiah” – had been a mere literalist, he might have attempted a dramatic oratorio on “the life of Christ.” As mentioned last week, biblical dramas were Handel’s Lenten season stock-in-trade. He had been successful with oratorios about biblical characters such as Deborah (Judges 4 and 5) and biblical events, notably “Israel in Egypt” (the first Handel oratorio to consist entirely of scripture text).

Unlike our own era, a drama representing Jesus would have been scandalous, considered blasphemy. Indeed, in “Messiah” Handel did not even presume to put the words of Jesus in the first person, much less cast Jesus as a “character” in his own story. (He caught plenty of criticism anyway!)

What Jennens and Handel gave the world instead is a stunning portrait of the Messiah: promised, earthly ministry, death, resurrection, ministry through the church, and ultimate victory. Messiah is the story of redemption. It is sung biblical theology. If one were to consider, meditate upon, pray over, and believe the scriptures given in the oratorio, the result would be a solid understanding of the message of the whole Bible. Rev. Jennens had a brilliant grasp of this, and Mr. Handel understood what he was about. Messiah is not “inspired,” but it is awfully good theology and solid devotional  material!

In December, our annual Carol Service featured the highlights of Part One, the “Christmas portion.” It presents  the promises of peace and comfort that would come with the Messiah. Then in the most distinctly narrative element of the oratorio, the nativity is presented: the pastoral night on the hills of Judea, the announcement of the angels, the glory of the Lord. What follows in Part One is a summary of the earthly ministry of Jesus: “he shall speak peace . . . the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the deaf ears unstopped, the lame shall leap and the dumb sing . . . He shall feed his flock like a shepherd, and gather the lambs in his arm.” Then comes the invitation of Jesus (as noted already, it comes in the third person): “Come unto him, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and he will give you rest. Take his yoke upon you and learn of him, and you shall find rest for your souls. His yoke is easy and his burden is light.” Thus ends Part One.

Part Two presses right on, demonstrating how Jesus will fulfill his promise, his invitation. And that is where we begin on Sunday, April 1, Palm Sunday evening: “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” Next week we’ll complete this brief introduction to the oratorio, and then the weeks running up to April 1 will take a closer look at the words, music, and theology of Messiah.

Sing on!

Chuck King

It probably goes without saying: The world was a very different place in 1742. Yet “Messiah” has survived many cultural changes in the 270 years since George F. Handel sat down to write what many people consider his masterpiece.

How different was the culture of England, 1742, from Wheaton, 2012? Well, just in terms of this musical work, consider that: (a) the prevailing piety of the day would not permit the bandying about of the exalted title, “Messiah” (Messiah is the Hebrew name for the Greek word Christ), so Handel always referred to it as “The Sacred Oratorio.” (b) it was considered arrogance, if not blasphemy, to say or sing Jesus’ words “in character,” so in the oratorio, quotations of Jesus are sung in the 3rd person. [Not "take my yoke upon you" but "take his yoke upon you."] (c) culturally it was not acceptable to sing or act sacred themes in public settings. Mr. Handel was headed for a lot of trouble with his Sacred Oratorio!

The first performance of “Messiah” took place during Holy Week, 1742. Oratorios of that day were written specifically to be performed during the season of Lent because other entertainments – notably opera and theater – were forbidden during that solemn season. Long before “Messiah” was written, Handel had developed a hugely successful career in opera; and a parallel career in writing oratorios on biblical themes, to be performed during Lent. They were, essentially, operas without sets, staging, or costumes. (And they were also performed in the same opera theaters.) The first of his oratorios were dramas on Old Testament stories and characters (for example, “Deborah”), linear narratives with plot and characters. “Israel in Egypt” was the first of the oratorios to consist entirely of the words of Scripture.

What set “Messiah” apart from the other oratorios was not the music or the performance setting, but the Subject. Using all his skill, his dramatic sense, and his biblical understanding, Handel crafted a timeless portrait of Jesus. This was something altogether different in purpose (his “sacred” oratorio, as compared with his “biblical” works), even though it sounds like a Handel opera or oratorio. Upon being congratulated for having made “such a fine entertainment” with this work, the composer replied, “I had hoped to do more than entertain them, I had hoped to make them better!”

“Messiah” was not warmly welcomed by the Church of the day. It was too obviously rooted in the music of the theater, and it was sung by soloists of doubtful spiritual qualifications! Neither fish nor fowl, it was too secular for the Church and too sacred for the Theater. But what better place to portray Jesus, than where the people are? And what better time than Lent, a season (in that era) of culturally imposed denial and focus on spiritual matters.

Our own performance, Sunday, April 1, 6pm, falls at the tail end of the same season. Palm Sunday, the start of the Passion Week, places this presentation of “Messiah” at the same time of the year as Mr. Handel’s premier. And it, too, comes at a time when people around us are spiritually attuned, and curious about this Jesus whom we worship, who was crucified, died, buried, and three days later raised from the dead. So, we find that it is a good occasion to remember these things in scripture and music, and to introduce others to our Messiah.

Sing on,

Chuck King

Easter season services present interesting challenges.

How does a congregation move from the “hosanna” of Palm Sunday’s trimphal entry through the “crucify” of Good Friday to the “he is risen!” of Easter? The drama inherent in the actual, real-life, historical events shapes the worship life of most Christian communities over the 8 days of what is sometimes called the “Passion” of Christ. (Passion comes from a Latin word meaning suffering.) When our children have waved the palm branches for us and have proclaimed the praise of the Son of David, what more can we say on Palm Sunday? When we have confessed that it is our sin that took Jesus to the cross, how can we bear to go about business-as-usual following Good Friday? And when we have shouted our “Hallelujahs” on Easter morning, we’ve pretty much said and sung all we can for the day.

But we do keep coming back to these services, and people who may not worship Jesus through their lives find themselves showing up at these services as well. This year, on Palm Sunday, we want to invite them to meet the Jesus about whom we make all this noise!

Palm Sunday, April 1, College Church will present “the rest of Handel’s Messiah.” The Christmas portion (abridged) was a big part of our Carol Service on December 11, and many of us and our guests were introduced to this grand musical setting of the history of redemption. We left Messiah as a babe in the manger, with the angels singing “Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth” and then returning to heaven. We pick up the biblical account with the Passion and the Resurrection sections of Messiah.

Messiah, Parts 2 and 3, will be sung at 6pm on Sunday, April 1. This is a guest event – a chance to bring someone to hear the story told in a way that has captured the imagination and hearts of people since its very first performance in 1742. Literally, there has not been a year since that this music has not been sung to appreciative audiences all over the world.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be introducing Messiah on this page, even as our musicians are in the thick of preparing it for you and your guests. Stay tuned!

Sing on!

Chuck King

It’s an old saying: Two things you don’t want to watch being made – sausages and laws.

I think of this often, and add a third – worship services! A congregation should think that “behind the scenes” everything is working smoothly. As far as they know, the planning happened in calm creative conditions; musicians had ample notice and adequate rehearsal; staff and other service participants have anticipated every possible contingency and are ready for it. A congregation rightly expects that while they may not know all that will happen in the service, there won’t be any unfortunate surprises.

If only they knew! Well, really, you don’t want to see behind the scenes most of the time. Let’s just leave it at that.

But I wish everyone could have been behind the scenes mid-service yesterday at College Church. The choir sang during the offering, the beautiful, thoughtful prayer, “Jesus, my Lord, my life, my all.” And then the organ sequed into and the congregation sang the gospel hymn on God’s amazing love – “how marvelous is my Savior’s love for me!” The choir left the loft during the verse. I slipped around past the organ to the side choir room door while the choir was still in motion. And without exception, and without coaching or planning, everyone kept singing that glorious refrain. They sang while walking into the choir room, while hanging up their robes, while retrieving their purses and coats. Through the open choir loft doors, we could hear the congregation and the organ; it was such a clear picture that the choir is simply an extension of the congregation. It was a reminder that this choir is peopled with genuine worshipers. And now that I reflect on it, it was a picture of heavenly worship – which, though we do not see or hear it, is always offered in God’s presence.

Praying today that this heartfelt worship continues with all God’s people, until we meet and sing again.

Sing on!

Chuck King