I. SACRED SONG IN THE NEW CHRISTIAN CHURCH
The Rise of Sacred Song in Apostolic Times.
But when the baptism of the Holy Spirit vitalized and organized the Christian Church, the tide of sacred song began to swell. It had a great heritage from the dying Jewish church: its fundamental ideas, its laws, its prophets, its hope of the Messiah now transformed into a reality; but not the least of its inheritances were the habit of praise and worship, and the lyrics that gave them form.
We read that the Church was filled with joy and praised God. Incidentally, we learn that, despite sufferings from cruel scourging, Paul and Silas sang hymns in the Philippian prison, showing that with the new wine of Christian joy there were created new bottles to contain it. We may be sure this was not an isolated instance, but the occurrence of an established practice.
Apostolic Emphasis of Sacred Song.
James says, “Is any merry, let him sing psalms.” Whether he meant David’s or “private” psalms is left open to conjecture. The American Revised Version translates it “praise.” Paul is most definite in recognizing “hymns and spiritual songs” as distinguished from “psalms.” Some commentators have interpreted the latter as David’s psalms, the “hymns” as the already accepted canticles, and the “spiritual songs” as the new songs, more or less improvised, that were sung by individuals, “teaching and admonishing one another,” “singing with grace in the heart.”
Paul’s conception of the hymn, therefore, was not a collective hymn, sung by all, but a hymn of edification sung by individual singers. The practice of solo singing assumed in Paul’s exhortations in Ephesians and Colossians, due to the perennial danger of governmental raids and persecutions, still continued in the time of Tertullian (circa 198). He writes that after their common meal “each man, according as he is able, is called on, out of the Holy Scriptures, or of his own mind, to sing publicly to God. Hence it is proved in what degree he hath drunken”—a refutation of the common charge of gluttony and drunkenness.
Traces of Hymns in the Epistles.
In the eagerness to unearth traces of the supposed hymnody of the Apostolic church, the wish has been father to the thought, and passages have been pointed out as probable quotations from hymns current in the churches. Some of them are quite plausible, but others are examples of the periodic structure so manifest in the style of both Christ and Paul and in the Oriental proverbial form, but lacking the parallelism of the Psalms.
In Ephesians 5:14, Paul has the formula of quotation from the Old Testament, but no such passage, or anything approaching it, can be found in either the canonical or uncanonical books of the Old Testament. If we should substitute “it” for “he,” the second word of the passage “it” might refer to a hymn in common use. Westcott and Hort put it in metrical form, but the Revised Versions do not. It is very plausible, however; even in the English translation the structure is distinctly metrical:
“Awake, thou that sleepest,
And arise from the dead,
And Christ shall give thee light.”
Equally plausible is the passage in 1 Timothy 3:16, although not formally quoted:
“God was manifested in the flesh,
Justified in the spirit,
Seen of angels,
Preached unto the Gentiles,
Believed on in the world,
Received up into glory.”
This is particularly true of such passages as have rhetorical warmth rather than inherent lyric quality. The extraordinary flight of the Spirit that has been called the “Hymn of Love” (1 Cor. 13) can be called a hymn only by stretching the limits of the definition beyond all reasonable bounds. Noble as it is, no composer has ever succeeded in setting it to worthy music. As well call Lincoln’s Gettysburg address a Memorial Day Hymn. The same may be said of the ecstatic passage which opens Paul’s letter to the Ephesians (1:2-12).
The Hymns of the Apocalypse.
It has been suggested that the choral passages of the Book of Revelation are quotations from current hymns. If that were true, how could the little gatherings of Christians have risen to the majesty of these marvelous hymns of adoration, either vocally or spiritually? They are so intimately a part of the stupendous scenes in which they appear as to make their being merely quotations seem impossible. Only the itch of a German-type scholarship to press out the last drop of possibility from any given historical material, and the calm assurance that the results must be true, since it has recognized them, can explain this hypothesis.
These hymns are too integral a part of the scenes, too consonant with their elevated spirit, and logically too inevitable, that they should have been mechanically introduced or even adapted from current hymns—they are too choral in the grand manner.
In general, we may accept the same judgment of Dr. Lyman Coleman, in his work The Primitive Church. “The argument is not conclusive, and all the learned criticism, the talent and the taste, that have been employed on this point, leave us little else than uncertain conjecture on which to build a hypothesis.”
“The Odes of Solomon.”
“The Odes of Solomon” is a Syriac collection of hymns which good authorities claim to be of the Apostolic Age; one authority, Mrs. Gibson, insists that it precedes Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, while the most conservative concede that it belongs to the first century, or the first half of the second.
Its discoverer, Dr. Rendell Harris, Director of studies at Woodbrooke, the Quaker center at Selly Oak, England, says of the “Odes”: “They are utterly radiant with faith and love, shot through and through with what the New Testament calls ‘the joy of the Lord.’” He quotes one of them: “A great day has shined upon us; marvelous is He who has given us of His glory. Let us, therefore, all of us unite together in the name of the Lord, and let us honor Him in His goodness, and let us meditate in His love by night and by day.”[1]
The first stanza of Ode XXVI is translated as follows:
I poured out praise to the Lord,
For I am his:
And I will speak his holy song,
For my heart is with him,
For his harp is in my hands,
And the odes of his rest shall not be silent.
I will cry unto him from my whole heart;
I will praise and exalt him with all my members.
For from the East and even to the West
Is his praise;
And from the South and even to the North
Is his confession:
And from the top of the hills to their utmost bound
Is his perfection.
The Failure of Apostolic Spiritual Songs to Survive.
It is likely that the reason why no definitely recognized collection of hymns has survived from Apostolic times, and immediately thereafter, is that the singing, outside of the Psalms and Gospel canticles, was largely extemporaneous. The later hymnic form and structure had not yet developed. Dr. Neale, who deserves to be recognized as a high authority, referring to the apostolic “hymns” and “spiritual songs,” says: “From the brief allusions we find to the subject in the New Testament we should gather that the hymns and spiritual songs of the Apostles were written in metrical prose.” Rhyming did not come into use until very much later. The singing was in recitative with rather formless melodies. Such extemporizations as appealed to the body of believers were passed on from place to place, the very best from generation to generation, from memory and by word of mouth, for illiteracy was the common lot of the mass of early believers. These people’s spiritual songs were presently lost, much as were most of our early American “spirituals” that served so excellent a purpose.
Indeed, it would be entirely correct to conceive of the stream of devout song flowing steadily on from the “hymns and spiritual songs” of the Apostolic times down through the centuries until our own time, sometimes finding temporary subterranean channels, as with the Albigenses, the Hussites, and the Lollards, but always inspiring, refreshing, and comforting the generations as it passes. It was the Laus Perennis, the unfailing sacrifice of praise, that day and night rose without break or intermission to the ears of the Almighty. In every generation, hymns that had nobly served preceding generations were replaced by new ones fresh from throbbing hearts that had re-experienced the vital truths of Christianity.
It is no condemnation of a hymn that the Church lays it aside. That it served only for a season may have been due to its peculiar adaptation to the individuality of the age, to the temporary conditions and needs among God’s saints of that particular time.
Chapter VIII
THE POST-APOSTOLIC HYMN
The Post-Apostolic Church a Singing Church.
Whatever conclusion we reach regarding the song service during the Apostolic age, because of the meager facts we have regarding it, we have sufficient information regarding the second, third, and fourth centuries to be sure that the hymn had become a more and more important feature of the religious life. The tide of song swells louder and higher as the generations pass. Clement of Alexandria, the reputed writer of the earliest surviving Christian hymn, “Shepherd of tender youth,” writes, “We cultivate our fields, praising; we sail the sea, hymning.” Jerome writes to Marcellus, “You could not go into the field, but you might hear the plowman at his hallelujahs, the mower at his hymns, and the vinedresser singing David’s psalms.” Tertullian, a little earlier, when the antiphonal singing was still in vogue, objects to the marriage of a Christian with an unbeliever, because they cannot sing together, whereas the Christian mates each would challenge the other “which shall better chant to the Lord.” The early church was, therefore, a singing church.
Tertullian was not a writer of hymns, for he declared “We have a plenty of verses, sentences, songs, proverbs.” We do not have their hymns, but we have the names of prominent hymn writers who sealed their faith with their blood: Ignatius, Athenogenes, Hippolytus, and many others who did not win a martyr’s crown.
All these hymns blossomed out of the consuming love for the Lord Jesus Christ, for which the Jewish psalms could give no expression. That they were used for public worship we have the testimony of Pliny (A.D. 110). His report from Bithynia to the Emperor Trajan was that “the new sect have a custom of meeting before dawn on a stated day and singing by turn a hymn to Christ as God.”
The Earliest Surviving Hymns.
Unless we accept the Syriac “Odes of Solomon” as an apostolic hymnbook, none of the “spiritual songs” of that age survive. The hymn written (or quoted?) by Clement in 170 is accepted as the earliest hymn handed down to us, with the “Candlelight Hymn” as possibly contemporaneous.
Clement’s hymn “Shepherd of tender youth” is found in most of our hymnals and is in actual use.[1] Dr. Henry M. Dexter’s version, as generally used, is an attenuation suited to the taste of our day rather than a faithful reproduction of the original, which begins with a rather violent figure, “Curb for stubborn steed” (E. H. Plumptre).
The date of the “Candlelight Hymn” is very uncertain. It was so old in 370 that another St. Basil could throw no light on its origin: “It seemed fitting to our fathers not to receive the gift of light at eventide in silence, but on its appearing immediately to give thanks.” The version by John Keble is still in use:
“Hail, glad’ning Light, of His pure glory poured
Who is the immortal Father heavenly, blest,
Holiest of holies, Jesus Christ, our Lord!
Now we are come to the sun’s hour of rest;
The lights of evening round us shine;
We hymn the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit divine.”
The Relation of Hymns to Psalms and Canticles.
In the very nature of the case, these individual songs and hymns and psalms had no authority back of them. They were the “spirituals,” the Gospel songs of their day and generation. Most of them were improvisations for a single service—flying sparks from the anvil of the Spirit. Undoubtedly others had a longer life, were written out and passed from hand to hand and even from generation to generation.
These hymns were mostly in Greek, though some were in Syriac, and as far as they were given a standard form they used Greek classical meters. Some were modeled on the Septuagint psalms and were known as “private psalms.” Many were odes, like the “Odes of Solomon.”
But it is quite evident that this body of song was never regarded as on an equality with the Psalms of the Jewish church, or with the Canticles of the New Testament. These had the sanctions of the rapidly crystallizing canon of the New Testament, and the established canon of the Old, which gave an authority that was lacking in the current hymnody. The relation was even more pronounced than that in our own day between the body of hymns surviving through the generations recognized as “standard” and the current religious songs of the hour.
In addition to the Psalms taken over from the Jewish psalter (not over one-half of which were ever sung) and the Canticles of Luke’s Gospel, there gradually rose a subsidiary body of canticles which by the fourth century had been for the most part fully formulated. They were developments of passages from both the Old and New Testament. In addition to the ejaculatory responses, “Alleluia” and “Hosanna,” the following were hymns authorized to be used in Christian services:
1. The Gloria in Excelsis, developed from the song of the angels as found in Luke, known as the Greater Doxology.
2. The Ter Sanctus, based on Isaiah 6:3, possibly later associated with Revelation 4:8, and called the Cherubical Hymn.
3. The Benedicite, the song of the three Hebrew children in the furnace, a paraphrase of the forty-eighth Psalm, likely taken from the Apocrypha.
4. The Gloria Patri or Lesser Doxology, apparently handed down from the Apostolic time, developed from the baptismal formula. It was expanded during the Arian controversy, adding “As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.”[2]
The Hymn as Propaganda.
The inferiority of the popular hymnody became ever more pronounced as the hymn was employed by heretical sects as a means of propagating their pernicious doctrines. Bardesanes and his son Harmonius in Edessa, Asia, a little later composed an entire psalter of one hundred and fifty psalms, “deserting David’s truth and preserving David’s numbers,” as Ephrem Syrus expressed it.
The Gnostic hymns during the third century were slowly undermining the faith of the people, but it was not until Arius appeared with his denial of the deity of Jesus Christ and spread broadcast his “Thalia,” a collection of practical hymns emphasizing practical duties and the value of the daily life of the people, as well as magnifying the humanity of Jesus, that the full extent of the revolution in the religious sentiment of the people became evident. He fitted his measures to well-known popular tunes, sung only by those “who sing songs over their wine with noise and revel.”
Arius, an ungainly giant of tremendous force of personality and unbounded energy, thus began a movement that was to convulse with its controversy the whole Roman Empire through many generations, even down to our own times, and was to prepare Asia and Northern Africa for the superimposition of the Mohammedan personality and cult upon an emasculated Christianity.
In 269, Paul of Samosata, an Arian Bishop, banished from his churches the hymns that had come down from the second century because they were addressed to Christ as God and “as being innovations, the work of men of later times.” He began the Arian fashion of propaganda by means of hymns. As an answer to this came the great hymnic outburst of the fourth century, headed by Gregory of Nazianzus and participated in by St. Chrysostom.[3]
It is not surprising, therefore, that the Synod that met in Laodicea in 363 ordered that “psalms composed by private men must not be read in the church, nor uncanonical books, but only the canonical of the New and Old Testament.”
Nor need we wonder that with the Arian fanatics interrupting orthodox services by starting their heterodox hymns, the same Synod decided that “beside the psalm singers appointed thereto who mount the ambo and sing out of the book, no others shall sing in church.”
This robbing the lips and the hearts of the congregation of its share of the public praise, in order to prevent Gnostic and Arian heretics from profaning public services with their strife and contention, hardened into a perpetual prohibition, and in the Greek church the people are mute to this day.[4]
It should be remembered that these prohibitions applied only to public services and their liturgies. Outside the walls of the larger churches the people were still singing. Indeed, the popular song was used by the orthodox to displace the heretical songs of the Arians, as was done by Chrysostom in Constantinople, in order to stem the tide of attack on the doctrine of the deity of Christ.