Sarx

SAAC EVERETT’S The Emergent Psalter was a book before it was a podcast. Before that it was the liturgy in development/use at Transmission, Everett’s house church community in NYC. After mentioning the podcast I got the book from Amazon and now it’s a review here.

In my original post on the the podcast I noted that my friend, Ana, was contributing an Episode. I said, “Given the source I’m sure there might be something that make some of us (Emergent or not) curl our toes. It’s good for you.” Isaac took exception in the comments, but I’m familiar with Ana’s Biblical exegesis having worked with her (and sometimes, forgive me, contra her) in a number of roles. Her read (like mine, I’m sure) differs from many of “the camps” in the protestant church world. I expected to hear in her podcast some of the sorts of comments I’d heard her make at Church Camp for the (Episcopal) Diocese of New York during the nearly 10 years we worked together in that context.

I stand by the line now, having read the book: it’s not just true of Ana, but of the book itself: I’m sure there might be something that make some of us (Emergent or not) curl our toes. It’s good for you.

The basic layout of the book is tripartite. Part I is an overview, which serves as an “how to use this book”. Part II is a set of four in-depth analyses of individual psalms and their antiphons (both text and music). Part III is the Psalter itself, each Psalm printed in full with music and a note (of varying length) about the use and purpose of the text.

Part I contains – for me – the toe curling moment. On page 1, discussing the ways Emergent communities are returning to traditionalism in their worship, Isaac says, “This return to ancient practice does not necessarily coincide with a return to theological orthodoxy. In fact, emerging Christians are discovering that the mystery and ambiguity of ritual meshes with a postmodern worldview in a way that their past experiences of worship haven’t.” That division of “theological orthodoxy” away from “ancient practice” and also from the “mystery and ambiguity of ritual” strikes at the heart of my own understanding of liturgy: which can not but only embody both of those things – mystery and orthodoxy – to be Christian at all.

And on page 2, there’s a comment about the second largest Christian denomination (although Isaac doesn’t intend it as such). He says that “religious communities that ‘tenaciously hold to all traditions and refuse to accommodate to the changing environment’ are often the quickest to disappear.” While that may be true among middle-class (mostly white) North Americans or Northern Europeans of a certain age, it’s not at all true of the experience of non-Middle-class Americans (regardless of race) or of millions of non-Americans around the world. And Eastern Orthodoxy’s millions of adherents, while honestly acknowledging the glacial changes in their own tradition, would laugh at the idea that something needs to “accommodate the changing environment.”

I say all of that mindful of my own lack of orthodoxy, but even in the use of the word itself, I’m clearly mindful of my own choice (or failure) to measure up to the standard set by Tradition.

None of the above is to be taken as a dismissal of the emergent discussion, or of the process of liturgical development that happens within the Christian community. I’ll tell you now: buy the book. THe why will become clear, I hope.

In discussing his goals for the psalter, Isaac sets out some very laudable liturgical goals and, although I was not aware of this portion before I purchased the book, it confirms my initial intuitions. Let me list the headings:

1. The Melodies Must Be Simple.
2. The Antiphons Must Make Use of Modern Musical Vocabulary.
3. The Music Must Be Adaptable.
4. The Antiphons Must Be True to the Biblical Psalter.
5. The Psalter Must Honor the Entire Biblical Psalter.

Points 1, 2 and 3 speak directly to much of my own experience of Eastern-Rite music. It is none of the above! What can be sung well with a room full of people sounds horribly boring and even vapid which chanted by one without trained singers it can sound horrible. Although some folks are labouring to make the musical tradition easier to sing, there is still much work to be done.

Points 4 and 5 speak clearly to my own sense of using scripture in worship. Consider the use of scripture in the Eastern liturgy:

At Matins we sing “God is the Lord and has revealed himself to us. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”

This starts out as a psalm text coming from Ps 117 (LXX) or 118 (MT) verses 26 and 27… you’ll find no translation of the LXX or MT that uses that line, “Has revealed himself to us”. The text is “God is the Lord, and he has shined upon us”. I’m guessing that it has gone through several possible translations (LXX Greek to Slavonic to English?) to get to the state it is in. I was happy to see the Monks of New Skete had returned it to the original text in their books. But the same is true throughout the Byzantine texts: lines from scripture are conveniently imposed, without regard for their original context: essentially proof-texting. It’s all well and good until a pious Easterner says proof-texting is wrong.

It’s in this context, the Byzantine Use of Scripture, that here was one other toe-curling moment for me in the discussion of point 4:

First the writer cites the Catholic Encyclopaedia, saying “the verse which serves as the antiphon text contains the fundamental thought of the Psalm…”

Discovering the “fundamental thought of the Psalm” is an intimidating goal! Furthermore, I’m enough of a product of postmodernity to think that it’s impossible to distill the “Fundamental” meaning of any text. The psalms have had many different meanings to many different people over the centuries. For example, the Royal Psalms might have been composed for coronation liturgies, but they were preserved through the exile and in the early church because they were perceived to have a messianic character. Wo which is the “fundamental” meaning?

Backing away (slowly) from that paragraph, I was left wrestling with a series of questions:

• What does it mean to imply that the text has no discoverable meaning in and of itself?
• How do we who claim to follow the Logos of God bring our own biases to the text?
• Does naming Jesus the Logos of God differentiate him from mere text?
• Is Jesus as Logos of God knowable in a valued and valuable way through “mere” text?
• What do we read into the text at “the inspiration of the Holy Spirit” versus the “Desires of our heart”?
• Is it possible to answer any of these questions in any legitimate way?

As I’ve said in other places, while I believe that the God who is Love must also be Trinity, I think our theology of God says less about God and more about us. The same is true, I think, of the readings we take from scripture. But what is the implication of that understanding? Sit down with a person educated in the Jewish Tradition and, even if you want to say she is 100% wrong and you, O Christian, are 100% right… listen to the tales someone else equally devoted to the scripture can draw from the same text.

Part II is a series of four analyses of individual psalms: (in the MT numbering) 22, 23, 119 and 148. This section contains in-depth discussions of the the psalms and as such each chapter could warrant a whole blog post. Style wise, I will say they were very refreshing: each psalm opened wide with a brief intro, an exegesis, and discussion of the antiphon’s text and music. In the text of the psalter (Part III) these are echoed slightly in the notes to each psalm.

And thus to Part III.
Each psalm text is presented first with the Antiphon that Isaac composed. These are totally singable. Even with my tin ear I can sing something rather like what’s on the page. In meeting items 1 and 2 on his checklist, as far as I’m concerned, Isaac has leapt far beyond any more traditional setting. I admit I like Anglican Chant… but that takes some work (and part singing). This flies right off the page and out of your mouth.

Each psalm closes out with a few sentences or paragraphs of commentary. Some of these are very useful and some are less so. They strike me as providing some original material between otherwise-quoted text. They are the most “Bible Commentary” style material in the psalter.

The psalm is presented in its totality, using the text from the 1979 BCP, edited by Everette and/or the Transmission community. The places for the antiphon to be sung are clearly marked. Using the entire text of the psalm is not traditional; but it is wonderful!

The Revised Common Lectionary assigns only portions of psalms as the gradual. In the Eastern Rite this has been boiled down to one or two verses sung as the Prokeimenon, a word meaning something like “verses sung before”. It’s all that’s left of processional psalmody in the Eastern Rite. That’s now being restored with such places as New Skete, Grace Catholic and other communities including the entire Psalm rather than the shortened stump.

This is why I’m most thankful for Everett’s point 5 on the checklist: The Emergent Psalter must honour the entire Biblical Psalter.

There is a tendency in churches to ignore the parts of the Bible that we find uncomfortable or embarrassing. At some point in our tradition, we ceased writing songs of “praise and lament” and began writing songs of “praise and worship”, a reflection of a wider cultural bias against weakness and vulnerability. In the Christian music industry, there is an understanding that Christian music must be uplifting and positive despite the fact that biblical poetry, especially the psalms, presents anger, grief, and bitterness alongside joy, hope, and praise. This purging of “negativity” implicitly judges how we worship. It says that if we don’t feel happy in church then we are not truly worshipping. It says that prayers of anger and prayers of sorrow are not authentic prayers. It says that expressions of joy are activities for the whole community while expressions of sadness are inappropriate for public display. This prejudice is unbiblical.

In his book The New Christians: Dispatches from the Emergent Frontier, Tony Jones writes that “emergents embrace the whole Bible, the glory and the pathos.” He notes that the Revised Common Lectionary often edits biblical texts, such as on the Feast of PEntecost when all three years of the lectionary proscribe reading “Psalm 104:24-34, 35b”, removing references to the destruction of the wicked. Such censorship refuses to acknowledge the flawed humanity made manifest in the psalms and refuse worshippers the experience of wrestling with their own textual tradition.

Yet, even as I applaud them for including the entire text, I’ve two objections (very easily dealt with): First, I don’t find the ’79 BCP translation of the psalms to be very beautiful. I am familiar with it. I am comfortable with it – sometimes I even crave it – but it’s not beautiful in the same way that the (eg) Coverdale is. It’s not that modern language can’t be beautiful: look at the Jerusalem Bible! But something about the BCP translation feels flat, prosaic: meaning factual and dull.

Second, I don’t like inclusive language in the Psalms because it obscures what, for me – for Eastern Christians – is an important level of meaning. Let us look at Psalm 1:

BCP has:

Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked,
nor lingered in the way of sinners,
nor sat in the seats of the scornful
Their delight is in the law of the LORD,
and they meditate on his law day and night.
They are like trees planted by streams of water,
bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither;
everything they do shall prosper.

The Emergent Psalter has a few modifications to the text

Their delight is in the law of God,
and they meditate on God’s law day and night.

Traditional Eastern psalters do not, at all, inclusify this text:

In modern language, New Skete has it:

Happy indeed is the man who follows not the counsel of the wicked, nor lingers along the path of sinners, nor sits in the company of cynics, but who delights in the law of the Lord, and ponders his law day and night. He is like a tree planted near flowing waters, yielding fruit in due season, whose foliage never withers or fades. All that he does succeeds.

Whilst the Psalter According to the Seventy says

Blessed is the man that hath not walked in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stood in the way of sinners, nor sat in the seat of the pestilent. But his will is rather in the law of the Lord, and in His law will he meditate day and night. And he shall be like the tree which is planted by the streams of the waters, which shall bring forth its fruit in its season; and its leaf shall not fall, and all things whatsoever he may do shall prosper.

In the Eastern reading the entire body of Psalms are seen as prophecy. These verses, as a specific example, refer primarily to Jesus. Thus “Blessed is the man” is, literally, first and foremost, the man: Jesus. Only afterwords do these words turn to discussing us individually on our Christian journey. To “inclusify” this text is to crucify it, killing off one meaning entirely. Leaving is as “blessed is the man” is common English (still) for “any one” while at the same time it means one man, in particular. The inclusive language is also inconsistent: God is a male noun, just like Lord. To replace one with the other in the name of “inclusion” requires destroying an English dictionary as well.

If they set out to change the gender of nouns just to make a political point, you’re not embracing the “whole Bible, the glory and the pathos” here.

Having raised my objections, I will point to the most wonderful solution: The antiphons in this book are, in most cases, singable with nearly any Psalter out there. Even the antiphon on for Psalm 1, “Happy are they who delight in the law of Yahweh,” easily becomes “Happy is the man…”

In other words, I’ll be using the New Skete Psalter and Isaac’s music for these portions of Liturgy!

As I said up front: toe curling is good for you! It means the reader and the writer are both doing their jobs of engaging material in dialogue: hopefully to salvific ends for both. Iron sharpens Iron. I picked up the book – based on the discussions I heard on the podcast – having intuited that it would be of use in our own community as we explore the ways to sing through traditional Eastern liturgy in the context of a house church. Think of us as Orthomergent or Byzmergent (Emergentine?). We can approach these tools and use them as we need to.

Isaac Everett has crafted a very useful tool here, one that can fit in your community with or without additional muscial accompaniamnetn. There are full scores for the fuller settings on the Church Publishing website, but the book stands well on it’s own. I recommend this text to anyone exploring the use of psalms in their community’s rites, or for anyone looking for a new way to use the psalms. I can imagine this text (and the style noted in the Emergent Psalter Podcast) being used in any of my former ECUSAn parishes as well as in a couple of the Orthodox places I’m familiar with.