Holy Week is upon us, and with it the rollercoaster of emotions as we journey with Christ from His entry into Jerusalem to his Resurrection next Sunday morning. Over the years of celebrating Holy Week, I have tried to imagine myself as one of the Disciples and how these events must have buoyed and dashed their hopes throughout the week. We start joyously on Palm Sunday and quickly descend into the shadows of Passion Sunday, and our music reflects that panoply of emotions.
Our Opening Voluntary by the choir is a modern setting of the traditional Palm Sunday Entrance Antiphon “Hosanna to the Son of David”. This rousing work was composed in 2002 by David Halls, director of music at Salisbury Cathedral, where he has served since 1985.
The Chancel Choir’s Choral Prelude is Maurice Duruflé’s setting of the Antiphon sung at the Footwashing on Maundy Thursday, “Ubi Caritas”, from his Four Motets on Gregorian Themes, Op. 10 (1960). The chant is set like a perfect gemstone in a mounting of lush harmonies and shimmering chords. Duruflé was highly critical of his own compositions, and often disparaged portions of his published works, refusing to record or perform them. He published only a handful of works and often continued to edit and change pieces after publication. The result of this perfectionism is that his music is perfectly polished, and widely performed around the world. Duruflé and his wife Marie-Madeiline were musically conservative, and after attending a "jazz mass" in 1969 at the Church of St-Étienne-du-Mont, called it a scandalous travesty. Maurice Duruflé suffered severe injuries in a car crash on 29 May 1975, and as a result he gave up performing; indeed he was largely confined to his apartment, leaving the service at St-Étienne-du-Mont to his wife Marie-Madeleine (who was also injured in the crash). He died in a clinic in 1986, aged 84, having never fully recovered from the crash.
As we enter Holy Week, today’s Anthem summarizes the week’s inner journey in the words of a poem by Peter Abelard (1079-1142), “Solus ad Victimam” [The Only Victim]. Translated by Helen Waddell (1889-1965), and set to powerful and solemn music by Kenneth Leighton (1929-88), this conjunction of three gifted people enables 12th century words to meet 20th century music to vivid effect.
The musical setting of this poignant text is not one you’ll be whistling as you leave worship, but I believe it is one of the most effective musical settings of any anthem for this season of Passiontide. Leighton creates harmonies and sonorities that may not sound correct, even though they are. He’ll begin a phrase with the sparseness of the choir singing in simple same-note octaves, and in the next moment we hear pain-filled dissonances between the choral voices.
Though this 12th Century text is most certainly a Passiontide text, my favorite aspect is that it foreshadows Easter and the Resurrection. The word play of the music that accompanies “laughter” in the text is notable. The choral voices are high in their tessituras, and the full choir ends literally on a high note, after which the organ accompaniment steals the show with great dissonant chords, only to land on a huge, bright E Major chord in a joyous foreshadowing of Easter!
“Alone to sacrifice thou goest, Lord, giving thyself to Death whom thou hast slain. For us thy wretched folk is any word? Who know that for our sins this is thy pain? For they are ours, O Lord, our deeds, our deeds. Why must thou suffer torture for our sin? Let our hearts suffer in thy Passion, Lord, that very suffering may thy mercy win. This is the time of tears, the three days' space, sorrow abiding of the eventide, Until the day break with the risen Christ, and hearts that sorrowed shall be satisfied. So may our hearts share in thine anguish, Lord, that they may sharers of thy glory be; Heavy with weeping may the three days pass, to win the laughter of thine Easter Day.”
As we journey with Christ through this Passiontide, may we know His comfort in our pain, and may we be Christ’s self-sacrificing love to all we meet.
