Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord
Verse 6 from Psalm 150 is inscribed on the side of the organ case at Bolton Parish Church. I saw it many times in my teens during processions in and out of the choir stalls. It stuck in the mind, ready for its meaning to rear up into consciousness when required. Being part of a noisy joyful psalm meant that it was always sung to the C major chant by Stanford. Changing harmonies, descants, solo lines for different sections of the choir, supported by a rumbling organ whose swell box opened up at the right moment, etched it further into the mind and heart. It would always be ready to inspire one to exuberance on Sundays.
Scripture teaches that our job as humans is to praise God. We are reminded to labour six days a week and praise God on the seventh. It conjures up images of working in a factory from 7am to 7pm or later, or toiling in fields during hours of daylight or doing last minute swotting for a big exam. Such images say little about rehearsing music to praise the Lord on Sunday, but our modern world is a lot more sophisticated and possibly more frantic than thousands of years ago, unless a job happened to involve toiling hard to help build a pyramid in high equatorial temperatures, strenuous in the extreme. In any activity or none, one has to breathe in order to keep going.
When sitting with both my late father and mother during their final earthly hours in 2003 and 2015 respectively, I was struck just how important the breath and breathing is. Despite health that had failed, breathing was strong until the last, then, vibrancy and life gone, all that was left was the lifeless body, unable to respond to anything or anyone any more. The strong body and individual’s appearance that seem important, are less important than what is the least visible, our tangible personality and character. It is breath that unites our spirit with our bodily material. One verse often quoted in orders of service for funerals is the one with a line about ‘slipping away into the next room’. It seems to me as if my dear parents are still there somewhere, but not in a physical way. I am not the only one to have thoughts like this. Perhaps it is the product of imagination or wishful thinking. We don’t know…..
I am also reminded of the power of the organ or of a wind band, or of the beauty of solo wind and brass instruments, also of singers, all of whom rely on breath for music making, whether human or manufactured. Instruments become ‘live’ when air is pumped into it/them, air fuelling the glorious sounds that come out in response to the command from the player. Without that, they are nothing, just as we are nothing without breath or air. It is why, when we turn the organ on, and place fingers on keys, ready to play, that we organists should remember how we and our lovely instrument sparks into life, a moment of true excitement and joy, praising God as the psalmist says. The reasons for the organ being called the King of Instruments are varied but I like this one particularly. It is also a powerful argument for the best instrument of all for accompanying congregational singing at its best. Whilst I love giving recitals and demonstrations, many times I love the singing of a congregation when they respond to the way I phrase the words and lines in hymns according to their meaning. We are all in it together, in a unique harmonious one-ness.
Marilyn Harper
