Joy, and Hymns

I'm in a college Christian a cappella group, but it took being away from a regular rehearsal schedule and immersion in music throughout the week to realize just how deep and undeniable is the impulse and desire within me--and, I'd say, within all of us--to sing the praises of the Lord.

Aside from my weekly dose of hymns at church here in Oxford, I've discovered a great group called Page CXVI. The first thing that got me interested in them was the story behind their name. Page 116 in C. S. Lewis's The Magician's Nephew contains the scene in which Aslan creates Narnia out of nothing with a song. Here's the pertinent excerpt:

In the darkness something was happening at last. A voice had begun to sing. It was very far away and Digory found it hard to decide from what direction is was coming. Sometimes it seemed to come from all directions at once. Sometimes he almost thought it was coming out of the earth beneath them. Its lower notes were deep enough to be the voice of the earth herself. There were no words. There was hardly even a tune. But it was, beyond comparison, the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. It was so beautiful he could hardly bear it.

So, to my mind, the group already had the Narnia reference going for them. Yet then I began to listen to their two albums, called simply "Hymns I" and "Hymns II." Their stated goal, one they fulfill with great success, in my opinion, is the restoration to prominence of those good, sturdy hymns of old. They accomplish this by setting hymns to a modern beat. At first I wasn't sure I liked that modernity, but it's grown on me, and now, when I hear one of the hymns they've recorded sung in church, I default to singing it a la Page CXVI--which says something about the catchiness and attractiveness of their arrangements!

One of the songs they've recorded is "Joy"--it's not exactly a hymn, but who cares. It's chilling and, at first, a bit confusing. It's a song very obviously about rejoicing, and here it's laden, laced with grief and pain. I didn't quite know what to make of it until I read this (brilliant) explanation.

When I first wrote, or I should say re-wrote, “Joy” I had no idea the
 wave it would make.  I have received countless emails, questions, and
 comments on this one song, several with the similar theme of “she sure 
does not sound joyful to me!” I’ve even had people tell me that they 
did not finish the song but skipped it because it sounded too
 depressing and confused them in contrast to the rest of the Hymns 
record. If perchance you are someone that has not finished the song
 yet please listen through the end. It would be like starting a story 
and never finishing it. 



The first time I played Joy was the night my father passed away.  He 
had a short and painful battle with cancer.  My dad was not perfect
 but he did the best he could with what he had.  A year before he died
 he was diagnosed with dementia.  The day he told me he had cancer he 
said it was a blessing.  To him, cancer was a better way to end his
 story than a mind with no memory of his family or his life.  So as I 
sat at the piano, the only place that felt safe that night to me, the
 weight of loss hit my chest.  I remembered my eyes were blurred with 
tears and I literally began to play the now familiar progression of
 Joy.  I kept cycling through the progression and then, as if it had 
already been written, I began to sing a different melody to a song I 
sang in VBS as a child, “I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my 
heart…” The truth is that I was terribly and profoundly sad.  The
 reality of grief had not even entirely hit me yet.  But at the same
 moment I had a deep sense of peace.  He was no longer in pain.  He was
 no longer sick.  He was free from all his ailments and restored.
 Although I still miss him, I know that God has weaved redemption 
through death into my father’s story.  That brings me great joy.  It
 was not until grief became a part of my story that I realized that joy
 is not simply an expression, but an attitude and acknowledgment of the 
deep peace of knowing a Savior.

 

I believe it is important as a community that wants to comfort the
 weary we allow space for those who are grieving, suffering, and
 experiencing loss to say, “Hey! I am hurting! I am in pain!”  It is
 okay to give them space to figure out what joy means in that time.  

I now know that you can experience grief and joy simultaneously…and if
 not, that joy can and will come if you allow it to. 

I had Joy written without the ending that is on the record for a
while.  And after I had some time to grieve I remembered the hymn “I t
is Well With My Soul.”  The author of that hymn lost multiple members 
of his immediate family when he wrote those deeply wise words.  It
 seemed appropriate to end “Joy” with this hymn in acknowledgement that
 God brings us peace.  He even brings us joy when it seems and feels
impossible.

Here's the song.

I heartily commend the rest of Page CXVI's music to you. They'll have you dwelling on the wise, comforting, challenging words of some of the greatest hymns ever penned. (If you want to preview some more of their songs first, you can listen to a few here.)

Also, if you're still in a musical mood, see the new music page I've created (under the "A Joyful Noise" tab at the top of the page).