Evensong: What's the point?

One of the choristers, a ten-year old girl, asked this of me as we were vesting for Evensong today. “What's the point? Why are we doing this?” I did not answer her well; at first I made light of it, saying something about getting through it so we could have the pizza supper after. But she persisted; it was a serious question. I still did not answer well, telling her that people have been doing this for thousands of years, and it is our turn to take part in it. This is true, but not a sufficient answer.

Similar thoughts were in my mind this week as I prepared the organ music for this day's services. The postlude this morning was a large-scale fantasy on Sine Nomine by Craig Phillips, a fine piece. As I struggled with it and grew weary, I asked myself: “Why am I playing this?” My answer: “To honor the Saints.” This was the parish celebration of All Saints' Day, transferred to Sunday, one of the seven principal Feasts of the Church.

Were St. Cecilia, or J. S. Bach, or the Blessed Virgin Mary, or R. E. Lee, or Hezekiah the King to walk in the door of my home, I would extend them every honor within my power. I would give them the best chair, bring them the best of my food and drink, try to tell them how much they have meant to me. Or so I imagine. But am I willing to do what is actually in my power – more than that, the work which is my proper and bounden duty as a church musician? Am I willing to do a little extra work to prepare some Music to honor them, and through them the Lord whom they served? And on this day, not only these few, but all the company of heaven: patriarchs, prophets, apostles, martyrs, and “all other thy righteous servants, known to us and unknown” (BCP p. 489)?

Aided by such thoughts and encouraged by their examples, I gave it a good effort this week. In the event, the Phillips had more errors than is fitting, but some of the other music in this week's liturgies did go well. When we sang “For all the saints” this morning, all eight stanzas of it with a fanfare going into stanza seven, it was an Event.

When the combined youth and adult choirs sang the Bainton anthem “And I saw a new heaven” at tonight's Evensong, it was likewise an Event. For that matter, their singing of Psalm 150 to the chant in C major by Stanford was equally extraordinary.

To my young friend and fellow chorister in the Lord's service: No, I cannot give you a proper answer, not with words. But I pray that the very experience of it may lead you in the direction of an answer. Were you to stand where I stood, in the midst of the choristers as they sang, and see the intensity in the faces of many of them, young and old, perhaps you would begin to understand. I know you could hear it all around you – I saw a bit of it in your face, as well.

What's the point? What's the point of two months' choral rehearsals to get to one evening service? Or ten hours and more on the organ bench for one postlude that ended up not going very well? Behind these questions, why have people sung or said or prayed Matins and Evensong in one form or another all these years, in every imaginable language and setting and circumstance? Some of the point lies in what singing and praying together before God, and working at it with all our energies and skills, does to bring us a little closer to our maturity in the image of Christ, a little closer in every rehearsal and service. The preparations for this service have made us a better choir, and better choral singers individually. I believe that it was also beneficial to those who were in tonight's congregation, many of them parents of choristers.

But there is more: all of it, all of the work, all of the thousands of years of prayer and psalmody and praise embodied in the Daily Office, especially the Choral Office, is our “reasonable service” (Romans 12:1) for the honor of the One before whom we stand, who alone is worthy of praise.