Psalm 22, Good Friday 25 Mar 2016

Holocaust memorial,BerlinA review of the index pages tells me that Psalm 22 (lectionary readings here>) has been sung each year for the last three; but only one of those was for Good Friday. Singing is often very limited or even absent in this observance.

The occurrence of this psalm on Good Friday is of course due to verse 1, which Jesus quoted on the cross:

My God, why have you forsaken me?

Shadow Then  also the predictions:

They pierce my hands and my feet (v.16)

They divide my garments among them; they cast lots for my clothing (v.18)

There’s a lot more to it. Admittedly, it’s a dark day and there is plenty of angst running through the song. However, it only takes two verses before David, to whom the song is attributed, turns to recognise the holiness and greatness of the divine spirit. He flings out declarations of the many ways in which this eternal love has protected the psalmist against all sorts of evils — the sword, wild bulls, lions, even packs of dogs.

Written largely in the first person, Psalm 22 is a personal or individual lament, rather than a community tale as in Ps.44. Quite long, but it’s worth reading through all 31 verses, not only in association with the events of the cross, but as an independent personal experience. There’s light as well as darkness; see this post last year. And the quiet waters and greener pastures of Psalm 23 are not far away.


As we have sometimes done in the past, we turn to the excellent Christopher Willcock setting in Together in Song No 9. Last year we used PFAS 22D alternative response.

I have also sometime in the past sung with admiration a lovely setting of Ps.22:1-3 by John Blow (1649-1708), My God look upon me. This is 60 bars of classic restrained imitation, the basses entering first with the theme tune, followed in turn by T, A then S. (Any starters?)

John 19:30 (Jesus dies) in the oldest intact book in Europe, St Cuthbert's Gospel, 8th Centrury. British Library Add MS 89000

John 19:30 (Jesus dies) in the oldest intact European book, St Cuthbert’s Gospel, 8th C. British Library Add MS 89000.

Psalm 126, 13 March 2016

Sower with setting sun, Van Gogh 1888. Rijksmuseum, Netherlands.

Sower with setting sun (detail), Van Gogh 1888. Rijksmuseum, Netherlands.

Psalm 126, a song of ascent, contains one of the great scriptural narratives. The sower goes out with seed, responding to the ever-changing seasons, renewing a livelihood. It’s not easy. Drought comes — or floods, birds and animals. Weeds grow to choke the good seed. However:

May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy. Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves. (vv 5, 6)

Jesus memorably used this in one of his powerful parables (Mark 4). In a wider sense it is a metaphor for the renewal of a decidedly mixed human existence where yin and yang are evident at every turn, tears and joy never far away.

Both enter the poem from the outset, recalling the sorrows of a people in exile and their relieved delight at being restored to the freedom and familiarity of home. Essentially, it’s a song of hope. (See an earlier post for some other angles.)


The default choice for South Woden, partly because it’s sitting waiting there in the files, is our (somewhat liberal) arrangement of an Orthodox chant borrowed from the Slavonian liturgy as interpreted by the monks of Chevetogne.

Screen Shot 2016-02-29 at 9.40.However there are good songs in PFAS and other sources. Some interesting settings hide in IMSLP such as the Jean-Philippe Rameau motet shown here, as well as pieces by more obscure composers rejoicing under names like Asola, Converse and Matho.

A while ago I got excited by the congruence of the availability of the male voice quartet and the listing of a Vesper Ps 126 by Tomás Luis Victoria. But the title, Nisi Dominus aedificaverit domum (‘Except the Lord build the house’), does not match; it’s 126 in the Vulgate numbering. So it’s now salted away in our Ps 127 file awaiting its glorious moment.

In the year 1800, one Oliver Holden (1765-1844) wrote a tune for Psalm 126, a respectable little hymn, but not antiphonal so not high on our list. It is mentioned here to record the author’s name as one of the more prolific composers of psalms in the United States. He is credited with publishing around 70 psalm tunes in that one year alone, and many more.

The gentlemen’s quartet will present the Orthodox style chant. The refrain is: “And our hearts are filled with joy”.

We shall also repeat as an accessional reflection the anthem Thou knowest Lord the secrets of our hearts, by Henry Purcell (1659-95).