My Song in the Night (click to hear the Birmingham Chamber Chorus)
Recently, the Birmingham Chamber Chorus performed the beautiful hymn, "My Song in the Night," as arranged by Paul Christiansen. It is a favorite piece for many conductors and singers. One of my fondest memories recalls performing the same piece in the Sistine Chapel several years ago. Its text refers to the metaphor presented in the Psalms and the Book of Isaiah, calling God our "Song in the Night."
All of scripture represents the attempts of poorly equipped people to describe the indescribable. One marvels that all of those writers through so many centuries were capable of summoning such meaningful metaphors to help themselves and their neighbors understand more fully the "Other" that was impacting their lives.
I find the metaphor presented in "My Song in the Night" to be among the more confounding and beautiful. It is sensible to think that a person whose circumstances include darkness might describe God as being "light in the darkness," and certainly that is the description we find in many references: "God is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear?" "I am the light of the world." But why, I always wondered, would other writers refer to God as "song" in the night?
I began to understand a few years ago, when my life unexpectedly and suddenly was impacted by great personal trauma. As time passed, and I continuously and painfully processed what was happening, I was aided by the hymns I had recited through forty years of worship. It was interesting that when I attended worship every week I couldn't sing, the darkness seeming to live in my throat. But when I was alone the songs in the recesses of my mind softly approached, presenting a comforting message.
One of those hymns was the funeral hymn "Come, Ye Disconsolate." To my knowledge, I had sung it only once, at the church I attended for a few months as a college student. It came to mind, and gently sang to me, "Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal." Years later, I wrote a choral arrangement based upon the way the hymn played in my mind during that time of darkness, and dedicated it to the chorus of Enterprise High School in Alabama, after their school had been destroyed by a tornado and several students lost. They seemed to feel that their walk through darkness was helped by the piece. Afterward it was published, and I hear from directors and choristers about its impact on the dark times in which they sing it. This hymn, which is almost never sung in worship, has a life of travel, seeking out dark places and bringing comfort that eludes the more popular hymns of our modern church.
I also remember being comforted by other musical metaphors: "There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole," and "Come, thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace." Each musical blanket warmed me, and gave me strength to await the light.
These experiences have taught me that dark times can't always be immediately illuminated, but comfort can come amidst the darkness, making it bearable. I value the hymns of my childhood and youth, because I recited them often enough for them to return to my memory when I need them. I wonder about the experiences of those who don't have a trove of hymns to comfort their dark times. I hope there is still a song that comes. I wouldn't want to live through a night with no song. And while I appreciate new hymns and the writers who continuously refresh the church by providing them, I expect that generations will go by before they offer comfort in the dark.
