Why are we encouraged to sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs to ourselves and with others? In this column, Cultivating Songs of Faith, we explore that question by looking at one particular hymn each season, offering the story of its creation from the life of its author or composer. What you see here is a reflection rather than a formal academic history. I hope to help you to taste, see, and rediscover what is good in great hymns, and also occasionally enter into the conversation they have with ancient psalms and modern spiritual songs.
I woke from my sleep suddenly. The room was dark. I glanced at the clock near my bed; it read 4:42am. I wondered why I had awakened and lay under the covers until I realized I was listening to a bird singing. My gosh! The sun wouldn’t rise for another two hours, I thought, as I rolled over. This was a cheeky overeager little creature. Was she calling to the worms, or what?
I lay still listening to her song for a good while. The intricate pattern of quick chirps and soaring tweets sparkled and danced in the dark night. Although the tiny bird was invisible to me, her song spilled forth in an incessant creative flow. Each note was like a shimmering pearl of merriment against the backdrop of the somber night. Every minute or two she took a ten-second break, but that little warbler sang past the moment the first beams of light announced the coming daybreak. She chirped nonstop until my whole room was filled with morning sun two hours later. When I finally put my feet to the floor I felt a little surge of something—was it hope?
All creatures of our God and king,
Lift up your voices, let us sing,
Alleluia, alleluia … [1]
It was a challenging day that I was waking to, with a long list of things I needed to get done before the evening. In the back of my mind I worried about a friend who was struggling with a serious health condition that had left her doctors with more questions than answers. I had committed to pray for her. So, I began that day with prayer, not only for her, but for other friends and family members in hard places. I prayed for help for the day ahead. I called out to God, sending my “pearls” into the air. I wondered if He heard me the same way I had heard the voice of that singular bird, so tiny and vulnerable in the darkness.
I suspect that I’m not the only one who feels small and somewhat powerless in prayer. As I search for the right words, I hope that some combination of my tweets and chirps will rise to heaven where God can hear my heart. In my head I know He is there, but sometimes it is so hard for my heart to believe what I cannot see through the difficult realities of life.
That’s when singing helps, and not just singing alone, but singing in community with others. I have felt in my soul the burst of encouragement and hope when I sing my prayers along with friends who with one voice are lifting the same hymn to God. Maybe that’s what St. Augustine experienced when he said, “He who sings, prays twice.”[2]
One of the projects I have embarked on as the music minister at my church has been gathering together a small choir. Yes, I know, this is the era when church choirs are being phased out, but I have friends who really enjoy making music together. Sometimes we spend as much time laughing as we do singing in our rehearsals! We have several members who explained very sheepishly when they first joined us that they “couldn’t read music at all.”
That has led to one of the most fulfilling parts of the experience for me: watching people who really think they can’t sing gain confidence as they hear their own voice blending in harmony with others. Our little group has become a small but mighty part of our regular worship and we have learned not only how to join our voices, but also our hearts. We can tell from one week to the next who needs extra prayer. The girl who faces the serious health condition is one of these choir members, and I have grown to care deeply for her as I sit beside her to sing.
All you that pain and sorrow bear,
Praise God, and cast on him your care:
O praise him, O praise him, Alleluia, alleluia…
Singing together each week has yielded a bounty of joy. I can’t count the number of times that I have dragged myself tired into the rehearsal and left at the end with a rush of energy. The wonder we feel in making something beautiful together, a beauty that could never be made individually, is something I really look forward to.
I’m not alone, either. There is a growing body of research that is revealing what I’ve experienced; when people sing together their sense of well-being increases and their breathing and heart rates actually become synchronized. Singing together may even lower blood pressure and increase immunity! For at least the length of time it takes to sing one hymn, we feel that we are not alone in the world. Our voices become one voice, connecting to each other and communicating to God together through the language of music. It is a language that speaks to our own hearts, our neighbor, and to God all at the same time.
Maybe this is why there are so many references to singing in Scripture—over four hundred. Fifty of these are direct commands to sing, including this favorite of mine:
“Clap your hands, all peoples!
Shout to God with loud songs of joy!
For the Lord, the Most High, is to be feared,
A great king over all the earth. (Psalm 47:1-2, ESV)
Maybe this is why Paul and Silas, in the dark of night after being beaten with rods for sharing the gospel, with their feet in stocks and no idea what would happen to them next, began singing hymns to God.
And, what amazing things happened afterwards! (Read the whole story in Acts chapter 16.)
Why do Christians sing? By singing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs the very Word of Christ makes its home in our hearts, it actually dwells in us. (Colossians 3:16) Through singing we teach ourselves and everyone around us to thank God, to look to Him no matter how difficult our circumstances. We sing because we believe He is there to hear us, because we know that as we join our voices together we join our hearts to the truth. We create extravagant beauty in spite of the dark night around us. This is making merry and binding our hearts to it. Every previous essay in this column can be read in the light of this one truth.
The next time you hear a bird singing, let it remind you to lift up your own voice to God. Maybe you live where the nightingale sings its song in the middle of the night, but if you don’t you can be delighted by a video that captured the gorgeousness. [3]
This afternoon I again heard some beautiful chirping and set off in search of it. High up in a tree in my backyard I saw the songstress. Her body was the size of a golf ball, and out of her tiny beak a glorious song poured forth in extravagant, jubilant merriment. This little creature was simply and courageously bringing into the world the voice she was given by her Creator. I can tell you, her tiny voice is enough to pierce the darkest night. And so is yours.
Let all things their creator bless,
And worship him in humbleness,
O praise him, Alleluia!
Praise God the Father, praise the Son,
And praise the Spirit, Three in One:
O praise him, O praise him,
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!
[1] These lyrics are from the hymn “All Creatures of Our God and King,” written by William Henry Draper in 1919. The text is based on a poem by St. Francis of Assisi.
[2] This statement has been attributed to St. Augustine of Hippo, even though we don’t have documentation of the fact.
[3] Nightingale Singing: The Best Bird Song in the World (YouTube)
The featured image is courtesy of Lancia E. Smith and is used with her glad permission for Cultivating.
Terri Moon is a musician and a lover of Jesus. She delights in playing the music of Bach, growing English roses, baking up a good batch of scones, and all good, true, and beautiful things that point to Him. She has found that the most fulfilling adventures come through collaborating with others, and to that end she and her husband Steve (also a member of The Cultivating Project) serve gladly in their church and also on the leadership team of the Anselm Society. Together they raised four children and are now proud grandparents. Hosting friends in their Colorado home is one of their favorite joint adventures.
Terri holds a master’s degree in violin performance, and has collaborated in many concerts and taught students of all ages for 40 years. Her lifelong passion is the intersection of music, worship, and spiritual formation, and she longs to bring to life the beauty of the Church’s heritage in the arts. Terri currently serves as the Music Director of Holy Trinity Anglican Church in Colorado Springs.
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