J. S. Bach, Thomas Ken, and the Queen

Today, March 21, is the birthday of J. S. Bach. In his honor, my fellow organist M.S. played an all-Bach program for the noontime Lenten recital at the Congregational Church today. Her playing is elegant, secure, and splendid. I wish that I could hear her more often, but on Sundays, she is on the bench at the Presbyterian Church and I am at the Episcopal Church. If one is a musician, one must often sacrifice the opportunity to hear others play in order to be faithful to one's own rehearsals, practicing, and services.

Today is the Feast of Thomas Ken, Bishop. One of his Office Hymns applies to the above:

Redeem thy misspent time that's past
And live each day as if thy last;
Improve thy talent with due care,
For the great day thyself prepare.

This is the second stanza of the morning hymn “Awake, my soul, and with the sun,” number 11 in the Hymnal 1982, and unaccountably omitted from the hymn by the Editors of that book. It is the best part of the hymn, except perhaps for the final stanza, of which more shortly. I have copied it into my hymnal, and posted a written-out copy of it on my door as an admonition.

Bishop Ken was, earlier in his life, Chaplain to King Charles II. He got himself shuffled off into a bishopric and out of the King's household because he continually rebuked the King for his dissolute manner of life.

And that brings me to the current Queen. Yesterday she addressed the joint Houses of Parliament in Westminster Hall on the occasion of her Diamond Jubilee.

She has conducted herself with integrity these many years. Twelve Prime Ministers have come and gone; she has been the constant throughout. I believe that her presence has made possible the British Commonwealth, a family of nations encompassing (as she observed in the speech) one-third of the world's people. Had she been a worthless scoundrel like Charles II, it is hard to say what would have become of Great Britain in the latter half of the twentieth century.

My first taste of Bishop Ken came from a time when I knew nothing about him, not even the hymn of which the following is the final stanza. But this stanza was a staple of some of the churches I served, and has spread as widely perhaps as any bit of hymnody in the English language. For many years, I was unable to play an improvisation without landing in the key of G Major, ready to launch into the Doxology:

Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

[Edited to add: I learned at Evensong tonight that this is no longer the Feast of Thomas Ken in the American church. According to the revised calendar, "Holy Women, Holy Men," this is now the feast of Thomas Cranmer, who was martyred on this day in 1556. Ken was pushed back a day to March 20, which in turn pushes Cuthbert off of his traditional feast day. He is now combined with Aidan of Lindisfarne on St. Aidan's traditional day, August 31.

I much prefer the old arrangement, wherein Cranmer was combined with Latimer and Ridley on the day of their martyrdom, October 16. But it matters little; all of them are saints, and all of them have reached their heavenly rest in the presence of the Lord. May we do likewise.]