Tuesday after Pentecost

Tuesday is review day. I had decided last week to do something of a music review of the organ and organ music. This morning I was doing my Greek reading for the day. I've been reading Clement of Alexandria (130-202 A.D.). Right now I'm making my way through his commentary on the story of the rich young man in the Gospels ("Sell all you have and give to the poor"). In about the fifth line of the page I was reading I encountered the Greek word organum. I had never seen that word before. It is not found in any of the Greek that I commonly read, i.e. the New Testament, the Apostolic Fathers, and the Septuagint, which is the ancient Greek translation of the Hebrew Old Testament. I checked the big Classical Greek lexicon (Liddell and Scott). It had the word, with the meaning tool or instrument. It can refer to a musical instrument. I then checked the Patristic Greek Lexicon (Lampe), which covers the writings of the Church Fathers from first century through sixth. Clement of Alexandria is one of those. There I found that the word had evolved from its more general meaning in Classical Greek to the specific meaning of "musical instrument" in Patristic Greek. The word evolved into English to mean "organ," as in pipe organ. Of course it would be many centuries later before the invention of the pipe organ. 

Odd that I should run into that Greek word for the first time (I've been reading Greek since 1963) on the same day that I'm writing about it. Or is it odd? The Lamont Norwood story was, in my mind, clearly a God thing. Someone once said, "You find what you're looking for." I'm convinced that if you're looking for God things, you'll find them. But was this a God thing? Why would God bother with something so inconsequential, when we have Coronavirus, massive demonstrations against racism, violence, and destruction going on? Doesn't God have better things to do? Or does God do anything at all? Can I just chalk this one up to coincidence? Is all that God is saying to me a confirmation that yes, this is a good day to write about the organ? Or does God manifest God's divinity in myriad ways and things, small and huge? 

So now about the organ. First, my disclaimer: I don't know much. Talk to Tim, George, Chris,  or Daniel (I think I got them all but two--organists churches of known readers of this blog) or whoever is organist at your church for accurate information. 

The organ is called, with good reason, the King of Instruments. The pipe organ had antecedents all the way back to antiquity, generally hand held with a few pipes. The invention of organ stops in the 1450's paved the way for the modern pipe organ. Huge organs were created in the 16th and 17th centuries in cathedrals and churches in Europe. The other great invention was electricity, which meant that bellows, which pump the air into the organ pipes no longer had to be operated manually.

Organs have a lot of pipes, usually in the thousands, about 3,500 to 9,000 in organs I have known. What you see are the big pipes (unless the pipes are hidden behind a screen).  Each pipe produces a single sound. The little ones with the really high notes can be quite small indeed.

Organs have consoles, which are where the organists sit and play. They have keyboards, which they call ranks, button looking things, which are called stops, and foot pedals, which are called foot pedals. Organists can play with both hands and both feet. It amazes me.

Far more organs are in churches than anywhere else. I think the reason for this is that organs are so powerful, their power draws us closer to the power of God. Organs are like God. Some churches have both their organ pipes and their consoles and organists hidden. Eastern Orthodox churches also have their choirs hidden. Some churches have their organs and consoles in the back of the church, in the balcony. Some churches have organists, consoles, and pipes on full display. Christ UMC in Greensboro, a church where I spent 21 years, is the most organ centered church I know. Its a large sanctuary. It has a divided chancel, hut instead of having the pulpit on one side and the lectern on the other, it has a high, huge combination pulpit/lectern on one side, and the organ pipes, console, and organist on the other. The visible pipes go all the way to the ceiling, about 60 feet. It's enormous, overwhelming. The console faces the congregation; the organist's back is to the congregation. The congregation sees the organist's hands moving as he or she plays. I remember a friend who, after going into the sanctuary for the first time, told me that if he were coming from a primitive jungle or desert place, where he had lived all of his life, into Christ, Greensboro's sanctuary and saw the organ, he would bow down and worship IT. 

I love organ music. The greatest composer of organ music was J.S. Bach (1685-1750). My friend, Joe Ritter, a member at University and a former member at Christ, Greensboro, and a reader of this blog, is a major Bach organ music lover. He should be writing this. My problem with knowing Bach organ music is that almost all the titles are abstract--like Prelude and Fugue in G-Major. I like names on musical works. The best known Bach organ piece is Toccata and Fugue in D-Minor. Unfortunately it has become associated with a Boris Karloff horror movie and with Halloween. Hearing it makes me think of the power of God, but for too many people it makes them think of Halloween.

The most popular organ piece for the last several decades has been Charles Marie Widor's Toccata from his Fifth Organ Symphony. It's played as postlude on Easter Sunday at most churches with good organs. It's also nowadays often played as a wedding recessional or postlude, and at many other church services. It never fails to send chills up my spine and tears down my cheeks. In July of 2014 I visited the church of Saint-Sulpice in Paris and saw the organ in which Widor composed it.

This will never happen, but I wish all churches would make it a rule than congregations remain seated after the benediction and listen in silence to the postlude, instead of trying to talk louder than the organ. 

Faithfully,

Christian