Confirmation: Children of the heavenly Father

Today was the Bishop's Visitation, with the sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation. The appointed Gospel was St. Mark 9:30-37, wherein Jesus takes a little child in his arms and tells the disciples that “whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.”

With that in mind, our anthem was a setting of the old Swedish hymn “Children of the heavenly Father” by Daniel Kallman. Here is the YouTube clip from this morning's service.

I have been ill at ease for several days and not at all productive in my work. Today I realized why; this day was important to me, so much that I could focus on little else – very much like I get during Holy Week, or the run-up to our Lessons and Carols service in Advent, or the day of the first choir rehearsals of the fall season.

Our Bishop does not often visit our parish; his last visit was the installation of our current rector, about a year and a half ago, and he has not done Confirmation here for many years. He prefers to administer “regional” confirmations (of which today's service was one, though we had no candidates from beyond our parish), and the last one of those was I think more than a year ago.

We had two young adults who were both baptized and confirmed today – one of them, J., sings in the choir, and both of them are Musicians, string players. And we had two young children – one a child of about one or two years, the other an infant of about one month, on his first visit to Church. His parents are dear to me, and this child has not come to them easily, so it was highly emotional for me, and for many others who know them. May he live to see his children's children.

The confirmation included the two young men, as I mentioned, another adult who is new to our parish, plus two high school students who have gone through the multiple years of preparation for confirmation. They also are dear to me; one of them sang in our youth choir when he was a child and attended an RSCM Course with us.

And it included one of my friends, who asked me to be her sponsor. When the time came, I presented her to the Bishop, stumbling over her name, and alongside her husband and children, laid hands on her as the Bishop administered this holy Sacrament.

Strengthen, O Lord, your servant N. with your Holy Spirit; empower her for your service; and sustain her all the days of her life. Amen (BCP p. 309)

The power that is in this Sacrament differs from what one senses in Holy Baptism. There is a determination and strength in Confirmation, as the above prayer suggests. And there is a sustenance. I have found it so; I do not think that I would have persevered in my Christian life, and certainly not in my work as a church musician, without the inward grace of this Sacrament. Like the sacrament of Holy Matrimony, the inward grace of Confirmation seems to appear most of all very much later, years and decades later, when it is most needed.

And like all of the Sacraments, the power is not something “supernatural.” Not at all. It is, rather, thoroughly “natural” – the power I sensed today as I joined in the laying on of hands is the same power that one senses in a sunrise, or the vigorous strength of a tree in its full maturity, or the irresistible onset of Spring. I believe that this “naturalness” can be found only in the works of the One we serve, and never in the counterfeits of the Enemy. His works can dazzle, or entertain, or overpower with violence, or carry one away with the frenzy of a mob bent on mayhem and murder. But there is no life in them.

The wisdom that comes from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. (St. James 3:17, from today's Epistle)

In closing, I include my prelude improvisation from the middle service. It is a set of variations on the hymn “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation,” with the tune “Lobe den Herren.”

Many of the important examples of the Variation form stray quite far from the tune as the variations continue; I tried to emulate this by moving to the dominant minor and including several passages of development, and avoiding full statements of the theme through much of the improvisation. A critic could call it a confused mish-mash of conflicting forms, with elements of A-B-A, and sonata form, and even a hint of rondo. But to my ear, it seems to work, and to present some possibilities for future efforts.

I did not realize how much of me was bound up into this day's liturgies until they were done. I was able to join my friend and her family for a relaxed dinner at a barbecue house, followed by an hour's nap in my Honda, up on the top level of the parking ramp in the sunshine, and then I spent the balance of the afternoon and evening working out fingerings. Most of it was for the Dorian Toccata and Fugue of Bach, which is on the schedule for Christ the King. It is a serious and intense work, and it was good to delve into it, and I found that I could do so with a freedom that had eluded me this week.

I took a break after the Toccata for Evensong in our church's courtyard as the sun set and the half-moon sailed across the clear sky. The psalm for this Twentieth Evening is 104, the psalm that most closely relates to the world of Nature. Near the end is a passage that is one of my watchwords; I have it posted in Hebrew in my office. In its context in the Psalm, it is a reminder that Music (when it is done aright), being one of the works of our Maker, partakes in the “naturalness” of all that lives and grows and nurtures and heals.

Ashira l'Adonai b'hachai
Azemerah leohi b'odi
Ye'erav alaiou sichi
Esemach b'Adonai

I will sing to the LORD as long as I live;
I will praise my God while I have my being.
May these words of mine please him;
I will rejoice in the LORD.