A JOYFUL NOISE

By Christine Burton

Where do great old songs go to die?

You want to feel old? Try talking to someone in their 20s about songs that you know so well they’re part of your bones, and having them tell you, “NO ONE will know that song! I’ve never heard of it!”

I did not march with the civil rights activists in the ‘60s but I certainly know their anthem — and I’m guessing many of you reading this know it too, without me even referencing the name: We Shall Overcome. All I need to do is look at a picture of Martin Luther King Jr. and the song is in my mind and my ear. Imagine my disbelief when I advocated singing this old hymn to my young-ish music director a few years ago for a particular mass where the theme was appropriate and he told me he’d never heard of it and the assembly wouldn’t know it either.

It is a testament to our positive relationship that when I put my eyeballs back into my head, picked my jaw up off the floor and told him in no uncertain terms that they would know it, and that it was the right song for us to do, he agreed to include it in the program for mass. Sure enough, many “older” parishioners knew it and were thrilled to have it return to the parish choral canon. And, undoubtedly, there were 20-somethings in the assembly who had to learn it as we went along, since they had indeed, “never heard of it before.” Since then, it has become a staple in our programming. While the specific realities of our world have changed since the ‘60s, the words and prayer of the hymn continue to resonate in today’s economic and social climate.

There are other hymns that seem to suffer the same fate. They become tied to a particular issue or era and, when that passes, they fade into the mists of time along with the particular issue, even though their message is far more timeless. Sometimes there are issues of bad theology or language that does not coincide with the values of the church (for example, too heavily exclusive, perhaps having “war-ish” themes like the Battle Hymn of the Republic, which would likely cause a riot at my current parish), but sometimes they just became too commonplace or attached to a particular issue and thus were put aside — and forgotten. Which is a shame and a loss for the community.

Not that I am advocating bringing back every old hymn. Several years ago in another parish, I worked with the priest in my then home parish to mark the 40th anniversary of Vatican II by having an “all-60s Sunday” mass. We sang some of the catchy but very bad hymns of the time (is there a better ear-worm than Sons of God?), the priest wore his Birkenstocks and a big wooden cross and the choir dressed in “mod” outfits, and we used the Nicene Creed in place of the Apostle’s Creed. It was great fun and warmly welcomed by the community, with many people suggesting maybe we should sing those songs far more often. Or not . . .

But it evoked the feelings of that era — the hopefulness, the sense of inclusion, the importance of active participation by the community in the mass rather than just being passive observers, and the role of the laity in parish life. You see the same thing at class reunions. Staid, respectable scions of the community return to their youthful roles as “rebels on the dance floor.” As life passes, the things that moved and shaped us can become faded if fond memories. Just as new music can inspire us to new action, older music can also serve as an instrument to revive memories and commitments and enthusiasms.

Our faith and experience evolve and our music should evolve with it, both in content and in style. Just as some fashions are fads and should stay fads (I don’t even want to talk about my history with leggings), so too should some songs. Others are more classic and can stand the test of time — Chanel suits and We Shall Overcome are fine examples. And when brought back, they are fresh and new to those experiencing them for the first time.

One of the songs from the musical Fiddler on the Roof says: “Our great men have written words of wisdom to be used when troubles must be faced . . . Life obliges us with hardships so the words of wisdom shouldn’t go to waste . . . ”

Just as the words of the Bible and the teachings of great men and women of many faith traditions remain relevant no matter when they were written, so too are there old hymns that can enrich and inform our liturgical celebrations. What songs are languishing in the back of your musical closet that should be brought back into the light of day, aired out and put to good use? There’s nothing like a new season and a new choir year to make the “old” seem suddenly new again.

And while I am saddened by the many ways in which we as a global community are still far from creating a “new Jerusalem” of love for all, I am glad I have a hymn that expresses my hopes and prayers, for deep in my heart, I do believe, we shall overcome some day . . .

A Saskatchewan soprano, Burton has sung praises to the Lord in Regina, Saskatoon, Winnipeg and now at St. Joe’s in Ottawa, where she is a chorister and cantor at two masses.