Hymns of Atonement
By
Orson Scott Card
The
hymns we sing most often are the sacrament hymns, because
taking the sacrament is at the heart of our worship almost
every Sunday in the year.
And
because each sacrament hymn is designed to prepare us for
a holy ritual, the music and the words are designed to quiet
our mood and bring us to contemplate the sacrifice of Christ.
Yet,
because we’re LDS, we aren’t looking for hymns that make us
sad. The atonement is a joyful event, and Christ’s suffering
led to the possibility of our salvation. So the music is
not somber, and the words are full of hope.
Ultimately,
the goal is for the hymn to be sweet, in the best sense
of the word. The way the fruit of the tree of life in Lehi’s
dream was sweet.
Because
we sing sacrament hymns so often, there are 29 of them in
the hymnbook, starting with “As Now We Take the Sacrament”
(169) and ending with “O Savior, Thou Who Wearest a Crown” (197). With an average of 48 sacrament meetings
a year, that means we could go six months at a time without
repeating.
Of
course, some of the hymns are more beloved than others. I
have never actually heard or sung “O Thou, Before the World
Began” (189). I have sung “Again We Meet Around the Board” (186) but it’s a jumpy melody that’s hard
to follow while also reading unfamiliar words. And it cuts
out the male voices for fully a quarter of the hymn, which
I always resent.
Similar
problems with melody make “In Remembrance of Thy Suffering”
(183) hard to learn, while “O Lord of Hosts” (178) has the
men-don’t-need-to-sing-these-words problem.
A Rule
Personally,
I think it should be a rule that no sacrament hymn should
cut out half the congregation, ever. We all need to
say these words.
I
don’t know why I’ve never heard or sung “Again, Our Dear Redeeming
Lord” (179).
In
my experience, at least, our sacramental rites begin with
the same 23 hymns C and 21 hymn texts:
“As
Now We Take the Sacrament” (169)
“God,
Our Father, Hear Us Pray” (170)
“With
Humble Heart” (171; rarely sung)
“In
Humility, Our Savior” (172)
Two
settings of “While of These Emblems We Partake” (173-4)
“O
God, the Eternal Father” (175)
Two
settings of “‘Tis Sweet to Sing
the Matchless Love” (176-7)
“Father
in Heaven, We Do Believe” (180)
“Jesus
of Nazareth, Savior and King” (181)
“We’ll
Sing All Hail to Jesus’ Name” (182)
“Upon
the Cross of Calvary” (184)
“Reverently
and Meekly Now” (185)
“God
Loved Us, So He Sent His Son” (187)
“In
Memory of the Crucified” (190)
“Behold
the Great Redeemer Die” (191)
“He
Died! The Great Redeemer Died” (192; rarely sung)
“I
Stand All Amazed” (193)
“There
Is a Green Hill Far Away” (194)
“How
Great the Wisdom and the Love” (195)
“Jesus,
Once of Humble Birth” (196)
“O
Savior, Thou Who Wearest a Crown”
(197)
If
you doubt me, think of how many of these titles (which are
invariably the first line of the song) brought a melody
to your mind. Most Latter-day Saints probably don’t immediately
remember the melody of more than fifteen or sixteen of them;
no doubt readers of this column tend to be those who are musicians
and are likely to remember more of them.
This
is not a problem to be solved. The very familiarity that comes
from repetition of a small set of hymns is part of the comfort
and peace that should be in our hearts as we partake of the
sacrament.
If
we’re struggling to follow a jumpy melody, or have to watch
closely to notice when we’re supposed to stop singing, we’re
not preparing for the sacrament, are we?
Some
of the sacrament hymns are musically very interesting without
being difficult; and composers and arrangers of the music
include such luminaries as Bach, Mendelssohn, and Meyerbeer,
such stalwart hymnodists as Careless, Beesley, and Gabriel, and LDS greats like Alexander Schreiner,
Leroy Robertson, and Robert Manookin.
Differences in the Hymns
Some
of the hymns mention taking the bread and water; some don’t.
Some are in third person, some in second person, and some
in first person. “I Stand All Amazed” is downright passionate;
“There Is a Green Hill Far Away” ends with a call to action.
The hymns can be quite different from each other, and still
be part of the sacrament service.
The
only rule that is consistent among all the hymns is that they
are about the sacrifice of Christ and what the atonement means
to us who sing the hymn. And the only constant among the
popular hymns is that they are easily singable
on first hearing.
Is
there any room for more sacrament hymns? Of course. While most of these hymns are rather old, some
were written in the last fifty years C which for a hymn is downright modern.
At
the same time, there is also room for more hymns that touch
on the core theme of Christ’s atonement, but then go in a
direction that does not lead specifically to taking the sacrament.
Bread
of Life and Living Water
By Orson Scott
Card
Bread
of life and living water,
Passing now from hand to hand,
Will unite each son and daughter
In the path their Father planned.
As
we take the sacred token
Of the Shepherd who was slain,
All our hearts are newly broken
For our part in Jesus’ pain.
All
our sins can be forgiven
By the giver of the gift,
Master of all earth and heaven:
He will span that hopeless rift.
Look
with love at one another:
None are strangers in this place.
Every sister, every brother
Has come home through Jesus’ grace.
This
hymn starts with the sacrament, as if the trays were being
passed while we sing. Of course this is not the pattern that
we follow, but I doubt the congregation will be troubled by
such an obvious anticipation. The idea is that this hymn
shows the pattern of what we should think about during the
sacrament itself.
What
the hymn asks the congregation to think of while taking the
sacrament is, first, that they are sons and daughters of God,
brought together according to his plan. Then they should
have a keen awareness of their own sins, for which Christ
suffered. Third comes the realization
that the seemingly hopeless rift between sinners and their
Father in heaven can be bridged by Christ.
Finally,
the hymn asks the singers to look at their neighbors in the
congregation and remember that in partaking of the sacrament
we can’t be strangers to each other; we are all prodigals
returning home to a forgiving Father.
Not Alone
It
is that last turn of thought that this hymn exists for. I
don’t think any other in the hymnbook has such a clear reminder
that we do not take the sacrament alone, and that all of us
are equal before the Lord. To me, this idea is very important
C just like the fact that in the temple, all of us participating
in the ceremony are dressed in identical clothing, so that
there is no rich or poor in the temple congregation.
(This
is why I wish we could do away with having the presiding officer
at the meeting always receive the sacrament first; it troubles
me that the custom has arisen for any individual, no matter
how lofty his office, to have primacy in the symbolic reenactment
of the atonement of Christ, the one time in our church lives
when we should surely be completely equal.)
The
next hymn starts with the same idea C our fellowship as Saints C and moves backward through the same storyline, always
seeing the atonement through that lens.
The
hymn presents a few challenges to the composer. If the first
two syllables of the last line of each stanza are pickup notes,
with the downbeat of the next measure on the third syllable,
then they scan perfectly.
But
if the downbeat of a measure falls on the first syllable,
we have a problem, because in the last stanza (“Has come home
through Jesus’ grace”), to have the word “has” be accented
actually changes the meaning and tone of the line C as if someone had just said that he has not
come home.
One
solution is not to put a downbeat on the first syllable.
Another is to revise the line:
Every
sister, every brother
Welcomes you to Jesus’ grace.
Or:
Every
sister, every brother
Knows the joy of Jesus’ grace.
I
prefer the original version, of course. But if a hymn’s musical
setting demands a change (remember “Yoo-hoo unto Jesus”!),
then you make the change.
Here’s
another hymn that might be suitable for the sacrament.
We
Gather Here As Loving Friends
By Orson Scott
Card
We
gather here as loving friends.
For harm we caused, we make amends.
All wrongs we suffered, we forgive.
Our Savior showed us how to live.
As
strangers once we walked alone,
Till he said, Come and follow me.
The wanderers
he made his own
Are sisters, brothers now to me.
Together
in the Savior’s name
We drink this water, eat this bread;
Before the Lord we are the same:
All ransomed by the blood he shed.
O
Lord, we want to be thy saints,
To help each other learn and grow,
To share the burdens life presents,
To witness of the truth we know.
This
may well have moved beyond the purpose of a sacrament hymn
and might serve better as the opening song for sacrament meeting.
Just because it mentions the bread and water does not mean
that it can only be sung directly before the sacrament
is blessed and passed.
Everything
depends on the music. If it has that sweet quality I referred
to, then it could be a sacrament hymn. But it would not be
inappropriate for it to be more cheerful and sprightly, in
which case it could begin or end the meeting.
The
composer would need to make sure there was a clear stop after
the first line. This is vital, because if the first two lines
of the first stanza are sung without a clear division between
them, the meaning is absurdly changed: “We gather here as
loving friends for harm we caused.” We need to feel the period
after the word Afriends@!
The
next hymn is about Christ and includes the atonement, and
could be a sacrament hymn. But it is not about taking
the sacrament (neither are “I Stand All Amazed” and “Upon
the Cross of Calvary”).
Morning
Hymn
By Orson Scott
Card
Will
this morning show the way
That leads us from this dreary scene
To him who knows our hidden worth,
Whose blood can make us clean?
Will
this evening when we pray
Be joyful at the good we’ve done
For love of him whose mortal birth
And death have made us one?
Will
tomorrow be the day
When in a glorious burst of light
The Savior comes again to Earth
To end the reign of night?
Even
though we would sing this hymn in church meetings, it really
represents things we might pray when we first get up in the
morning on any day, not just Sunday.
And
the third stanza takes us from morning and evening of this
particular day to the longing for the day of the coming of
the Lord ... which could come at any time (“as a thief in
the night”).
Grammarians
will whimper at having “evening” be the subject of the verb
phrase “be joyful” in the second stanza. But a person of
good will should have no trouble instantly grasping the meaning:
We are asking if the evening will be a joyful occasion because
of the good we’ve done. (There must be a few allowances for
the exigencies of form.)
The
last of my atonement hymns would only work as a sacrament
hymn if it was given exactly the right setting. Why? Because
it is cast as a dialogue between a sinner (the ordinary Church
member) and the Savior. In the first half of each
stanza, the sinner asks a question; in the second half, the
Savior answers.
Sinner’s
Hymn
By Orson Scott
Card
Of
thy glories, my Redeemer,
What is sweetest in thy sight?
Is it your place by Father’s throne?
The kingdoms he has made your own?
These
are sweet, says my Redeemer.
Sweeter
still shall yet be shown
When
sorrow brings your sins to light:
Repent,
my friend; I shall atone.
Of
thy suffering, O Savior,
What was heaviest to bear?
The splintered cross? The piercing thorn?
The savage nail? The bitter scorn?
None
of these, replies my Savior.
Sharpest
of the pains I’ve borne
Is
how you sin and do not care,
With
all your covenants forsworn.
See
my sins, beloved Brother,
All the misery I’ve spread,
The cruel, lying words I’ve said
I can’t repay, my hope is dead.
All
these sins, replies my Brother,
I
have named with tears I’ve shed.
I’ve
paid the price to set you free.
My
name is yours now: Come to me.
Because
this hymn is essentially dramatic (i.e., it is dialogue, not
narrative or monologue), it would be one of the most unusual
hymns in the hymnbook. I almost put it in the category of
“church music that can’t be hymns.”
What
turned the tide for me was hearing what composer Mark Mitchell
did with these words. In an email, he said of the text: “It
reminds me of a French carol, with the question‑response
form.”
Since
my idea of a French carol is “The First Noel” or “Bring a
Torch, Jeanette, Isabella,” I have no idea what he’s talking
about. But I don’t have to C he’s the composer, not me. The Question portion
of the hymn he set in a minor key, saying, “I think we could
use a few more hymns in minor, and this one seemed a good
candidate.”
For
the Response, the obvious move would be to return to a major
key; instead, he goes to a different mode entirely, neither
major or minor, “to give it a different flavor from the question
section C a little mysterious.”
Here
is the sheet music of his setting:
click
to enlarge

To
hear an MP3, click here:
Negotiations and Compromises
In
his version, he changed the last line of the hymn from “My
name is yours now: Come to me” to “My name’s now yours: Come
unto me.” Why? “The original doesn’t seem to fit with this
melody quite right,” he says, “which sometimes happens and
is impossible to foresee without the tune being written before
the words.”
That
is the kind of thing that composer and lyricist always have
to negotiate back and forth. For me, as a singer, I can’t
tell what he thinks wasn’t “quite right” with the words as
they originally were; I think they fit the music perfectly
well. And the revision negates a choice I deliberately made,
which was not to use the phrase “Come unto me.”
The
voice of the Savior in this hymn is not “biblical” (though
I do use the word “forsworn,” which has a 17th-century
feeling to it). The fact that I used the contraction “I’ve”
reflects the decision to let the Savior speak in contemporary
English. Mitchell’s revision adds another contraction C “name’s” for “name is” C but it’s a nonce contraction, not a standard one like
“I’ve,” and it feels contrived to
me.
And
I really think it’s a mistake to put the strong word “come”
on a couple of pickup eighth notes and the first syllable
of the mere preposition “unto” on the strong accented downbeat
of the third ending.
I’m
hoping that in negotiations between the two of us about that
last line, his slight feeling of discomfort with the original
line will be trumped by my very strong aversion to the awkwardness
of the revised one.
At
the same time, I was embarrassed to see what he had to do
with the beginning of the third line of the Question C the difference between the first stanza, where “Is
it your place” has the first syllable on the downbeat, and
the the other stanzas, where the
first syllable is a pickup note with the second syllable accented.
Despite
my having known that the lines had to follow exactly the same
pattern of accents from stanza to stanza, somehow this one
slipped past me.
Rewrites May be Necessary
Here
is a place where I definitely want to rewrite the offending
line to make it scan properly and avoid the need for having
the stanzas’ music be different. The new line could be, for
instance, “Your place beside our Father’s throne?” The Question
in the first stanza would thus be:
Of
thy glories, my Redeemer,
What is sweetest in thy sight?
Your place beside our Father’s throne?
The kingdoms
he has made your own?
This
actually increases the contemporary feeling by removing the
verb from a fragmentary continuation of a question (perfectly
acceptable even in formal spoken English). So no harm is
done to the text, while the music remains uncompromised C all the notes are sung every time.
I
think that Mitchell’s music is quite successful in transforming
an iffy text into an unusual but compelling hymn. I believe
congregations might very well come to value this hymn because
of its mystery.
Could
this be a sacrament hymn? The music certainly achieves the
necessary “sweetness.” It is absolutely about the atonement.
And when you consider that in the sacrament prayer, the priest
speaks of the communicants’ purpose “that they do always remember
him, that they may have his spirit to be with them.” In a
way, this hymn’s dialogue between communicant and Christ suggests
what it might feel like to “have his [Christ’s] spirit” be
with us.
There
is no need for any kind of revolution in sacrament hymns!
But there is also no need for hymns that cover exactly the
same ground as the sacrament hymns we already have. Not every
attempt to find something new to offer to the sacrament service
will be acceptable. But I think the attempt is worth making.
Back
to an Old Theme
That’s
really the end of my treatment of this column’s topic. But
in Column 6: Topical
Hymns, I broached the subject of hymns about gossip.
After pointing out the inadequacy of all the current hymnbooks’
attempts at dealing with this important topic, I set out to
deal with other topics, but treated gossip only with
a joke.
I
realized in church a couple of weeks ago that I had given
myself a challenge and I would be a slacker if I didn’t make
a serious attempt at a hymn about gossip. But in writing
it, I tried to follow my own advice about how to do it properly:
There
Is No Secret
By Orson Scott
Card
There
is no secret from the Lord,
No place where sin can hide.
The Lord will
see us perfectly.
The door is open wide.
In
vain did Cain deny his deed;
And why did Jonah flee?
Whom God has bound is quickly found,
| Though buried in the sea.
Nor
does he need our lips to tell
When others break his law.
God does not
bless those who confess
Their neighbor’s secret flaw.
His
love is pure, his vision sure:
Our hidden heart is known.
Oh let him in, forsake thy sin,
And be no more alone.
There
is humor in this hymn, or at least a lightness of tone. It
is created by the content (the reminder of Jonah’s story),
the tone (the irony of “God does not bless those who confess
their neighbor’s secret flaw”), and even the form: The internal
rhyme in the third line of each stanza actually suggests the
limerick. There are also nonce rhymes in odd places: vain/Cain,
pure/sure.
Notice,
though, that this is a “gossip” hymn only by indirection.
The main thrust of the hymn is that we are all utterly known
by God. We have no secrets from him, and if we welcome and
affirm his vision of our hearts by repentance and confession,
we can have his companionship C “be no more alone.”
But
in the third stanza comes the reminder that since God already
knows our neighbors’ sins, it is redundant for us to point
them out. The only hint of punishment is “God does not bless”
gossipers.
Still,
the message is there, and it’s offered with humor, so it might
actually be received by the people who most need to hear it.
Composing
music for this hymn would be a challenge. Certainly it can’t
have any of the solemnity of a sacrament hymn; but it’s not
a rousing, enthusiastic hymn like “There Is Sunshine,” either.
The music can’t in any way hint that there’s something menacing
in the phrase “There is no secret from the Lord.” It needs
to feel simple and declarative.
Since
the rhyme and rhythm exactly fit the music to “There Is a
Green Hill Far Away,” you can try singing it to that music
and see how it feels. If you sing it quickly enough C which changes the tone of the music!
C it’s not a bad fit until the
last line, where the music is too “down” C too contemplative C for the words.
I
wrote this hymn so recently that I have had no chance to reflect
on it and decide whether I even like it myself. But I’m afflicted
with the habit of taking up my own challenges. Whenever I
tell writing students that some particular choice is a mistake
or a flaw or “doesn’t work,” I then feel compelled to write
something that will prove that I was wrong, or at least that
exceptions are possible.
(This
is why I once wrote a story in first-person present tense,
narrated by some who had just committed suicide, thus violating
three “rules” I had strongly told to a class at Elon
College only the week before.)
So
if this hymn is a bad one, please remember that I never set
myself up as someone who knows how to write good hymns C just as someone who wants to, and is trying to figure
out what a good hymn is made of.
--
Post
your comments C but not your own hymn texts, unless you wish to surrender
copyright! C here on Meridian. And don’t send
hymn texts to me! I’m not a music publisher.
However,
if you’re a composer and wish to set one of my hymns to music,
don’t ask for my permission first. I hereby grant you permission
to use my hymn text free of charge in your own musical setting,
as long as you don’t publish or sell the result.
In
other words, you can perform your hymn as much as you want.
But the moment you want to publish it or record it or charge
for it, then we need to talk — I’ll need to hear your hymn
and decide if I approve of it before you can publish, record,
or charge for the combined work. I can be reached at http://www.nauvoo.com
or http://www.hatrack.com.
And
if I deny permission, then you can simply write your own words
to fit the music you wrote. You won’t lose a thing.
This
essay and the original hymn text are copyright 8 2004 by Orson Scott Card. Except
as specified above, all rights reserved.