Some organists have a habit of writing in their sheet music the date the piece was used in a worship service. I am not one of those organists.
As I practiced for Sunday worship today (Saturday) I was sight reading some Advent preludes by Michael Burkhardt. The book was familiar and well worn from my yearly use and prior to that of my organ mentor. What struck me, though, had never occurred until today. I was playing Burkhardt’s prelude on “Once He Came in Blessing” and then I noticed the date when my mentor last played it — 10 years ago today.
Most dates wouldn’t mean too much to me. This one did. It was the day my dad suffered from cardiac arrest and medical complications which led to his passing a few days later. This Burkhardt piece reminded me that the church’s song goes on in our communities and congregations around the world — even when we individually are absent from worship. The prayers and songs of the faithful continually ascend to God and each other.
The beginning of the new Church Year is quickly upon us. In preparation for this, the LCMS Commission on Worship appears to be initiating a weekly series of lectionary summaries on both the one-year and three-year LSB lectionaries for use in the parish. Take a look.
These Lectionary Summaries are designed to be included in Sunday bulletins for worshippers to read prior to the service. As such, they provide a thematic summary of the readings for each Sunday and festival, as well as a description of how the readings fit into the particular season of the Church Year, where appropriate.
These summaries are provided free of charge and may be edited as needed for local use. They will normally be posted two to four weeks in advance. (LCMS Commission on Worship)
These summaries could also distributed the week prior so that worshippers could prepare themselves throughout the week by reading the lectionary texts and the summary.
When your pastor says “Amen” at the close of his sermon, are you soaked in Christ’s blood?
Rev. Steven Cholak wrote a blog post for Concordia TheoBLOGical Seminary in April 2008 about pastors soaking their flock with Christ’s blood as they preach Christ and the forgiveness of sins. It is a short essay I reread frequently, but recently found that it is no longer available on the seminary blog. Pastor Cholak has graciously given me permission to repost his essay here. The only modification I have made is to break up the 1 long paragraph into several shorter ones for readability. Pastor Cholak has his own blog and website at StarBoCho.
God Speak by Rev. Steven Cholak
I expect to be soaking in the blood of Jesus when the preacher says, “Amen.” That bright red river of life from the cross of Calvary makes the robes of God’s people white like snow. The professors at Concordia Theological Seminary would say that a sermon should be a good exposition of Law and Gospel in a liturgical context. There should be Law that cuts you down and Gospel that picks you up. BUT the Gospel should always predominate. In other words, when the preacher opens his mouth – Jesus picks you up.
The preacher must give you Jesus. He shouldn’t just tell you about Jesus. He shouldn’t just mention the cross. Preachers should never tell you about telling the story. Preachers are called to preach the Christ. They are called out of darkness to proclaim light and life into this dark and dead world. Preachers do that by preaching Jesus to your person.
Pastors bring the forgiveness of sins from the cross and wrap you with it, like a warm blanket on a cold, winter’s night. They take his blood and wash you with it. Like a mother after you’ve played in the mud, a pastor scrubs you clean (even behind the ears) with Christ’s blood. They do it because only that blood can take away your sins. They are faithful to this call because God resurrects the sinner from his watery grave and gives him new life.
How does God do it? He does it by opening the mouths of preachers, and then soaking you in his Son’s blood. He does it by opening your mouth and pouring that blood down your throat. He does it through weak and sinful men. He does it through your pastor. Expect to be soaking in Christ’s blood when the pastor says, “Amen.” Expect to be alive because Christ has wrapped you with his love and breathed new life into your ears. Not only should you expect it, you should demand it. It is your heritage. It is God’s good gift. AND…it’s yours.
During the Divine Service you probably hear your pastor say or chant these words: “Therefore with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven we laud and magnify Your glorious name, evermore praising you and saying . . . “ Have the import of those words sunk in? What follows, the Sanctus, is not just a hymn sung by your congregation, whether large or small. It is not limited to the churches spread across the globe. No, it is far more than that.
In They Will See His Face, Richard Eyer discusses the Sanctus as something far more than what we see.
At this point in the Divine Service the curtain separating this life from the next is drawn back and we sing with those who have gone before us the glory of Christ’s victory over sin and death. Here, in the Divine Service, as nowhere else on earth, we are together as one, saints above and saints on earth. Here, more than anywhere else in this life, we are near to those who have died in Christ. No memories or private devotions can rival the reality that all the community of heaven worships with us when we worship together in the Divine Service on a Sunday morning. What better place to find healing and reunion with loved ones than in the gathering of God’s people before the altar? (Eyer quoted in Wieting, The Blessings of Weekly Communion, page 202)
One of the great joys I have as an organist is leading this earthly and heavenly host in song. This is the time in the service when all the stops on our 7-rank pipe organ get pulled out and I would use the zimblestern (if I had one). Today, on All Saints Day, I hauled out the handbells and had several ringers be the zimblestern. It is both a humbling and exhilarating experience to lead this host.
The next time your pastor says the Proper Preface and you sing the Sanctus, remember you are being joined by all the heavenly hosts. I don’t think you’ll ever look at it the same way again.
I remember the first time I heard of Paul Manz. My organ mentor was passing the torch, so to speak, and she passed along her sheet music to me. Included in that collection were my introductions to Burkhardt, Behnke, and of course Paul Manz. Of all the books, the several Concordia Manz editions were the most ragged with detached covers from frequent use. She said, something like “get to know these, you will love them.” And so the rest is history. Like many organists, Manz has become a staple of my core repertoire.
This morning with wide eyes I read the e-mail from MorningStar Music that Paul Manz had entered into eternal glory on October 28, 2009 (MorningStar has more detailed information and Manz resources). While I had never met Manz or ever heard him in person, he had, through his music on the organ rack and CDs, become a sort of close friend (and at times an irritating one at that!). It was a friendship that I had to “grow into”. There are still plenty of pieces awaiting further practice.
His organ works, primarily on hymn tunes, shows the careful interaction between text and tune. Many of Manz’s works were composed to introduce hymns and reflect on the text — a very practical purpose. Frank Senn, in an essay in the Manz biography, notes that “when Manz played a solo on a stanza, giving the congregation a rest especially on hymns with many stanzas, what he performed was practically an improvised poem” (158). He was a leader of the people’s song.
Senn ends his essay with these words:
The responsibilities of the cantor as the leader of the people’s song has been seldom greater than it is today. Paul Manz has shown the generations following him how to do this job. May their tribe increase. (164)
In closing, I will let Manz speak for himself:
Thank you for the grace of singing with me across the years in good times and in bad, when our words have stuck in our throats and when our eyes have overflowed with joy. It has ever been a Song of Grace: ‘Love to the loveless shown that we might lovely be.’ I have just been the organist. Thank you for letting me play. (Noted in obituary by Scott Hyslop)
