Operi Dei nihil praeponatur

Or, in the Common Speech, “Let nothing be placed before the work of God.” (from the Rule of St. Benedict)

The Opus Dei is the Daily Office – Matins, Evensong, and the little hours, or more broadly, the life of prayer in its many forms. As St. Benedict says, it must come first. I know this, rationally and from personal experience. It is the settled and universal witness of Holy Mother Church that this is so. Nonetheless, it remains a struggle. The “battle of prayer,” the Catechism of the Catholic Church calls it:

Prayer is both a gift of grace and a determined response on our part. It always presupposes effort. The great figures of prayer of the Old Covenant before Christ, as well as the Mother of God, the saints, and he himself, all teach us this: prayer is a battle. Against whom? Against ourselves and against the wiles of the tempter who does all he can to turn man away from prayer, away from union with God. We pray as we live, because we live as we pray. If we do not want to act habitually according to the Spirit of Christ, neither can we pray habitually in his name. The "spiritual battle" of the Christian's new life is inseparable from the battle of prayer. (paragraph 2725)

I have sung or said the Offices for about thirty years. But I have not been sufficiently faithful with this duty, this Officium; Matins and Compline are almost always there nowadays, but Evensong – many times I am “too busy.” Or hungry, or tired. And, often enough, I choose food and sleep over prayer. It has been a negative in this respect that when I am home, I do the appointed psalms in Hebrew. I am getting better, but it still takes me a lot longer than they would in English. And I still groan when I realize that it is the Fifteenth Evening, and Psalm 78 is appointed, all seventy-two verses. On the other hand, the Psalms have increasingly been a motivation when I waver: “If I skip Evensong tonight, I won't get to do this psalm until next month!” Even Psalm 78 – I love the latter part, when the Lord awakes like a warrior refreshed with wine, and smites his enemies on the backside (“kicks butt” would be a perfectly adequate translation. I love it!)

A second thing that helps is accountability. During the academic year, we list Matins at 7:30 on two or three mornings a week, a relic of the days when Fr. Sanderson was Priest-in-Charge and we were able to do all fourteen Offices every week, plus midday Eucharist on Major Feasts. For a while, it was him, me, and Bill K. But Fr. S. was called to another place, Bill K. retired and no longer had reason to come into town at 7:30 am, and since then, it is usually just me. Still, it says on the calendar that we are doing the Office, so I had better get out in the church and do it. And one never knows; some years ago, it was a typical weekday Matins with just me, and who should walk in but our diocesan Bishop! He was in town for a meeting and came to the service. And perhaps he was checking to see if we did indeed pray the Office as we claimed.

A third thing is that I know by long experience that if I can just get started, I will be glad that I did. Once I make it to “O Lord, open thou our lips,” I will be all right.

But even with all this, it is hard. It is, as the Catechism says, a “battle.” The thought lurks that “if I weren't doing these things, I could get more done.” I could read the shelves-full of books at home. I could get started on my work at church and get so much done in this first and freshest part of the day, when I am itching to get onto the organ bench, or into the other work that needs to be done. The "wiles of the tempter" are at work.

I think that the temptation to not-pray, to do anything except pray, is one of the most fearsome and deadly, right up there with Pride.

It is better to pray badly than not at all.

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Longtime readers may remember this from my LiveJournal blog (April 4, 2008). Some of these old essays are worth revisiting. I hope to post another one or two soon, with further thoughts about Prayer.

Whitsunday, and the Leipzig Chorales

This day is the feast of the Holy Ghost the Lord, and Giver of Life, one of the seven Principal Feasts of the Church. My organ voluntaries today were the first two chorale preludes from the great Leipzig Chorales, gathered as a collection by J. S. Bach in his final years. The collection begins with Komm, heiliger Geist “in organo pleno” [see the first link at the end for a YouTube performance]. It is followed by a second setting, “alio modo” (“in another form”). The first (which was my postlude) represents one aspect of the Spirit: Her boundless energy, Her infinite capacity to be “outside the box,” outside any possible limitation and beyond even our wildest hopes and imaginings. The second is the quiet and gentle Comforter, the “still, small voice” who guides us when we are perplexed, binds up our wounds, patiently forms us into the image of Christ. The first is the mighty wind and the tongues of fire that fell on the disciples; the second is the water of life, flowing out from the throne of God – and from each believer – for the healing of the nations (Ezekiel 47, Revelation 22:1-2, St. John 7:37-39)

But there is also a subtext to this Day which is heard in the Daily Office Lessons:
- Deuteronomy 16:9-12
- Acts 4:18-33
- St. John 4:19-26

Deuteronomy makes clear that this feast of thanksgiving is not just for the elites. It is for everyone, and especially the “stranger, and the fatherless, and the widow.”

And thou shalt rejoice before the LORD thy God, thou, and thy son, and thy daughter, and thy manservant, and thy maidservant, and the Levite that is within thy gates, and the stranger, and the fatherless, and the widow, that are among you.... And thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondman in Egypt.

Our Lord Christ tells the Woman of Samaria that the worship of the living God is no longer bound to any place, nor limited to the priests and Levites and the few who have been the chosen.

[T]he hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth, for the Father seeketh such to worship him.

The door is open for the likes of William Tyndale, who told one of the prelates of his day that “ere many years I will cause a boy that driveth the plough to know more Scripture than thou doest.” From the first, Christianity has been most of all a religion of slaves, outcasts, beggars, sharecroppers, peasants, common working folk, and children. And, miraculously, it is all this without setting them against the rich, the well-educated, the comfortable; there is room for all. This is the work of the Holy Ghost, in concert with the Father and the Son. The door is now open for everyone.

“Would God that all the LORD's people were prophets,” said Moses (Numbers 11:29). Today is this hope fulfilled: “Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy... And on my servants and on my handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my Spirit, and they shall prophesy” (Acts 2:17-18, quoting Joel).

One of the ways in which this is fulfilled is through Music, which is given to all of us in one form or another. In Friday's Epistle from the Daily Offices we heard this:

[B]e filled with the Spirit; speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making music in your heart to the Lord (Ephesians 5:19)

When we sing well, or play well, the music is living water flowing out from us. It is not our doing; it is the work of the Spirit.

For every work [or act] of creation is threefold, an earthly trinity to match the heavenly.

First [not in time, but merely in order of enumeration] there is the Creative Idea, passionless, timeless, beholding the whole work complete at once, the end in the beginning: and this is the image of the Father.

Second, there is the Creative Energy [or Activity] begotten of that idea, working in time from the beginning to the end, with sweat and passion, being incarnate in the bonds of matter: and this is the image of the Word.

Third, there is the Creative Power, the meaning of the work and its response in the lively soul: and this is the image of the indwelling Spirit.

And these three are one, each equally in itself the whole work, whereof none can exist without other: and this is the image of the Trinity. (Dorothy Sayers, “The Mind of the Maker” p. 37-38, quoted here.)

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I would love to play the Leipzig Chorales as a concert, or more probably as two concerts on successive nights. One sometimes hears the Clavierübung chorales in concert, with the Prelude and Fugue in E flat framing them, and it makes a highly effective programme. I do not recall ever hearing of the Leipzig Chorales as a programme, though surely many have done it. I believe that this music, heard all at once, would be a most profound lesson in the art of the organ chorale. Not only does Bach demonstrate many ways in which the Tune can be treated, he offers multiple versions of some of the chorales, showing the range of possibilities – as we heard today with the two widely divergent settings of Komm, heiliger Geist.

Were I to do such a thing, today's two voluntaries would be the beginning of the first concert, the first fifteen minutes. There would follow:

An Wasserflussen Babylon
Schmücke dich, O liebe Seele
Herr Jesu Christ, dich zu uns wend
O Lamm Gottes unschuldig
Three settings of Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland

This set of preludes would begin and end strongly and contain sufficient variety to be engaging. If we sang the chorales, it would help the audience understand what Bach is doing, and would make a good full programme. The problem might be with the second night's music:

Three settings of Allein Gott in der Höh sei Ehr'
Two settings of Jesus Christus, unser Heiland
Komm, Gott Schöpfer, Heiliger Geist
Some Canonic Variations on the Christmas song Vom Himmel hoch, da komm ich her
Vor deinen Thron tret ich

For the most part, this music is quiet. It might be especially difficult to maintain interest through the Canonic Variations so late in a program; they are sublime, but the listener (and the player) must be attentive. It would be well to end with the Vor deinen Thron, composed in part on the final day of Bach's life. It would be very well indeed; coming to such an ending would be a chief reason for playing these programs.

In practical terms, I have played all but four of these chorales, and one of the four is fingered and on the schedule for October (Herr Jesu Christ, dich zu uns wend – I am excited to finally be playing this delightful piece). Several of these are among the chief parts of my repertoire, music that is perhaps more important to me than any other – in that category I would place the quiet setting of Komm, Heiliger Geist from this morning, the O Lamm Gottes, the first setting of Allein Gott, and Vor deinen Thron. But I do not know if I could get all of them to performance level at the same time; it is a lot of music.

Here are recordings of the Eighteen Chorales, but without the Canonic Variations, played very well by Hans Otto in 1970 on two Silbermann organs of the sort that would have been familiar to Bach. All told, it is about ninety minutes of music.

First part
Second part
Third part

And here is Helmut Walcha playing the Canonic Variations on another Silbermann organ, from perhaps 1960.