Making a Case for a Joyful Lent

Last week’s issue proposed the idea that the dour and somber attitude we assume for Lent might be misplaced. Using John Donne’s A Hymn to God the Father as a platform, we explored the idea of finding joy in the season of Lent.  This week, we’ll continue with that theme and examine other Lenten hymns to see if there is any other support for the idea.

In The Hymnal 1982, hymns for Lent and Holy Week begin with number 140 and 141 (two different settings for John Donne’s poem discussed last week). The next two hymns coincide with the liturgy of early Lent—that of Jesus’ forty days spent in the wilderness resisting temptation. (Actually, Satan gets far too much attention from this particular story.  Jesus’ time in the wilderness was not so much about resisting the devil as it was about getting closer to God, right?) The hymns recall us to Jesus’ example of taking a period of time to just be alone with God. And the final stanza reminds us that the goal of our penitence during Lent is to achieve “…an Easter of unending joy!” While that implies a future of joy, it really doesn’t say much about joy of Lent—although, hymn 143, set to the  German tune  Erhalt uns, Herr, does state that the songs we sing during Lent are to “celebrate” those forty days.

Harold Darke

Now, the next several hymns really do make a case for a joyful Lent. The words are from a Latin text and are set to the tune Cornhill by Harold Darke.  The first stanza is all light, referring to Jesus as the “sun of righteousness” and implores him to “shine in our hearts, and dispel the gloom that shades our minds…” That very phrasing hints at a reference to the somber mood that has permeated Lent.  The words go on to request  that God “…restore us by your loving care to peace and joy within.” The third stanza offers up our penitence, but a penitence of praise.  That is, it is not requisite that penitence by self-flagellating, but that it be of praise and thanksgiving.  That’s a joyful perspective to take, wouldn’t you say?

It’s interesting to look at the words set to the music measure by measure.  Cornhill is in the key of C major. C major is, of course, one of the most commonly used keys and is often employed to set certain moods.  For instance, Haydn’s symphonies set in the key of C major are frequently considered festive and celebratory. Haydn himself considered C major to be the key of pomp and ceremony.  Bob Dylan, to visit another musical reality, considered C major to be of strength, but also regret. That would seem the ideal for a reverent, yet joyous mood. Toward the end of the hymn, Darke has three measures of notes fraught with accidentals that give the music an anxious tone, and resolves back into the familiar major.  The words set in those few measures reflect that angst, i.e. words like “shades” and “sacrifice” and even “majesty”.  Yet the song as a whole is open and bright. (You can listen to a recording of hymn 144 on youtube, but fair warning, the quality of the sound is not great.)

Following Cornhill is a hymn tune that is most often associated with Christmas. The tune is a French carol called Quittez, Pasteurs. Yet it appears in the Episcopal hymnal only in Lent. The first verse calls us to “quit your care and anxious fear and worry” and in the second, “…such grief is not Lent’s goal.” The E-flat major key is bold and heroic (it is the same key Beethoven used for his Eroica Symphony and Gustav Holst used for Jupiter) and suggests a more purposefully determined participation during Lent—a sort of “be cheerful; be assertive in your prayers; it’s Lent!” kind of attitude.

Regardless of whether or not one should deliberately find joy in Lent, one thing every hymn does agree upon is that Lent is a time for prayerful reflection and a deepening of one’s connection with God. Maybe joy comes as a happy by-product of seeking God.  Or maybe God responds to the joy we share in knowing Him. For surely, joy can’t be a more difficult avenue than somber remorse!