CHURCH AND MUSIC - S. VANDER PLOEG
The British theologian, musician and hymn writer, Dr. Eric Routley, describes church music current in today's English-speaking world as "the museum of the worst music." The music of the Genevan Psalter, on the other hand, he calls "a small quantity of church music of the very highest quality... which anybody would be the better for leaming." 1 If Routley were the only one holding that opinion, he could perhaps be ignored. However, many other authorities share his view.
The odd thing is that among us, who have this "music of the very highest quality," one frequently hears the view expressed that the Genevan Psalter, "one of the monuments of our musical culture," has had its day, and ought to be augmented or replaced by music current in the English speaking world. Among the reasons given for this attitude are: a) The music of the Genevan Psalter is culturally foreign to North America; b) If the Canadian Reformed Church is to be more effective, it must adapt itself to the musical practices in Canada; or, simply, c) The Genevan tunes are boring and difficult to learn. Now of course all of this could be a case of "the grass being greener on the other side of the fence." I don't think so!
Let me go back to the word "museum," referred to by Routley. A museum preserves and displays those things which no longer have any relevancy for the present, only with the past. Merely restoring the Genevan tunes to their former glory without recovering the very principles which brought them into being means that they, too, are in danger of becoming museum pieces without any relation to reality.
The musicologist, Steven Plank writes in Musick that "music substantially derives its meaning from the network of human circumstances in which it is contained." 2 In this connection this means that music derives its meaning and, therefore, its purpose from the relation it has with the Church, the body of Christ.
This relation between the Church and music is of vital importance, for there is no greater danger that threatens music then when it becomes untied from its source and shifts to a place where its relations are vague or nonexistent.
For when that happens, music begins to function as a means of escape, a source of day-dreams, a security-blanket and an opportunity for nostalgia or self-dramatization; and soon it becomes a sentimental comforter without any ties to reality.
Church music, that is, a certain brand of music performed in church, does not exist in fact, or rather it ought not to exist. It would be better, therefore, to talk about the relation between the church and music, particularly as it applies to our own denomination.
The first question that comes to mind is:
Is there any relation between music and the (Canadian Reformed) Church or does music in our circles operate in a vacuum?
In spite of the occasional lip service, hardly any such relationship exists. In our churches, music for the most part functions in limbo. We appear to deal with music and musical matters in isolation and often it is reckoned among the things that can be decided in some way or another without touching the foundation of our faith.
When we consider God's work of salvation accomplished in Jesus Christ as the foundation of our faith, that is rather strange, for it is like saying that music, a gift of God, plays no role in the work of salvation. We appear to follow the rule that music is not an ecclesiastical matter and, therefore, our ecclesiastical assemblies can tell the churches what to sing but not how to sing.
They can and must deal with words (the intellect) but music (the senses) falls outside their province. There is something inherently wrong with this intellectual view, for it tacitly denies that music can be either a channel for grace or means by which man is enabled to enter into worship through his senses.
The following are a few examples of this attitude:
a/ General Synod Winnipeg, 1989 decided that it is "not in the province of Synod to make" decisions on musical matters. In its considerations it states that it can only do so in matters concerning the text. Synod, then, in fact said: music is not an ecclesiastical matter. In other words, there is no relation between the church and music; between salvation and music. 3
b/ The singing of the congregation during a church service is generally subordinated to the sermon and mostly consists of singing a stanza here and there that has some alleged connection with the theme of the sermon. What we then have is not liturgical music but sermon music. Something that places the sermon in an agreeable, musical framework.
c/ The musical part of our church services is entrusted to untrained and unpaid, although often dedicated, amateurs, who pursue music as a hobby. Implied in this general practice is the thought that music during our services is unimportant and a matter of hobbyism. What we have then is not liturgical music but something that may be called hobby music, for, even though it is performed in the church building, it is not directly related to the church but to a leisure activity
I firmly believe that there is (and must be) a relation between church and music. In addressing this issue I will approach it not in musical terms, but in general terms: from the ground which we all share, by relating musical judgments to the kind of judgments that govern all other church decisions. I will examine a number of phrases from Calvin's essay on music, as published in the Preface to the Genevan Psalters of 1542 and 1543, and deal with the following questions:
1. What is music and how is it related to the Church?
2. What is music's intended purpose?
3. How does music function and what is at stake in the music of the church?
1. WHAT IS MUSIC AND HOW IS IT RELATED TO THE CHURCH?
Throughout the ages men have tried to define the nature of music as they saw it. Significantly, whenever their world view changed, so did their definition of music. Here are a few of them, each about a hundred years apart:
Johannes Tinctoris, 1475: "...the most liberal art, and the noblest among the mathematical arts, namely divine music."
Walter Haddon, 1567: "Music is the medicine of a troubled mind."
Thomas Fuller, 1662: "Music is nothing else but wild sounds civilised into time and tune."
Charles Burney, 1776: "Music is an innocent luxury, unnecessary, indeed to our existence..."
Eduard Hanslick, 1854: "Music means itself."
Sir Thomas Beecham, 1944: "The plain fact is that music per se means nothing; it is sheer sound." 4
To complete and update this selection here are two quotes from The Book of Rock::
Ian Dury, 1982: "Music is...well I know it's better than working in Ford's."
Sid Vicious, 1982: "You just pick a chord, go twang, and you've got music."
From music related to God and His service, via music related to man and his pleasures, we have moved to music related to nothing or, in the case of Rock, to making money. This change in the perception of music, according to Wilfrid Mellers, is the result of a change "in men's attitudes to God and to each other, in their fundamental beliefs and assumptions." 5
When Calvin wrote his Preface to the 1542 Psalter, he zeroed in on the place of music in the worship service and in a rather lengthy addition of 1543, he deals with music in more general terms. In the latter section we find his definition of music which reads:
Now among the things which are proper for re-creating man and giving him pleasure, Music is either the first, or one of the principal; and it is necessary for us to think that it is a gift of God deputed for that use.
The most obvious conclusion, and one which is almost universally drawn from this statement, is that Calvin considered music to be a gift of God. However, true as that may be, Calvin does not merely say that music is a gift of God, but that it is necessary for us to think about music as being a gift of God, in order for the gift to have its intended effect. It is not the gift per se that he has in mind but the thought world which governs our attitude towards it.
Why was it necessary to think about music that way at the time of the Reformation?
During the Renaissance man's thinking underwent a drastic change. The concept which caused this change is the concept humanism, i.e., the belief in the individual's right to progress towards personal happiness.
The God-centred existence, commonly held during the time of the Middle Ages, was replaced by the concept of a proud man-centred existence, in which the emphasis was on personal happiness, welfare and pleasure, and music played an important role in achieving those ends.
Then, as now, people readily acknowledged intellectually that music was a gift of God, but it stopped there. By giving God credit for the gift He received His due, the rest of it belonged to man. The thought about it and the consequent purpose for this gift were conveniently forgotten or simply ignored.
Before considering music as a gift of God in more concrete detail, let's look briefly at it in the larger context of all God's gifts to us. Scripture calls such gifts charismata, that is gifts of grace, gifts involving grace on the part of God as the Donor. The grace of God, the Lord Himself acting in the Church, gives to His body all its functions and services necessary to its life. (Rom. 12:6-8; 1 Cor.12:1-7; 1 Tim. 4:14; 2 Tim. 1:6; 1 Pet. 4:10; Eph .4:7-13). The term charismata further emphasizes its free nature and the God-given ability to accept it in faith.
God's gifts, centred in Jesus Christ, are on the one hand related to grace and on the other to faith. This places God's gifts, music included, squarely within the boundaries of the basic principle of the Reformation:
Justification by grace through faith. That in the first place.
In the second place, God gives His gifts to His people, the Church. Music was not created for the concert-hall or the entertainment industry, but for church-buildings and singing congregations. Music, in short, is God's gift to the Church.
Therefore, it seems to me that it is incorrect to speak of church music, as if it were some insignificant sub-category of some higher species, called "Music."
There used to be a time in music history in which the music of the church indeed played a dominant role in all of life. The history of music was determined by the music written in and for the church and performed there. The Church and daily life (the life of faith) at that time were intimately connected.
There was no such thing as a division between the sacred and secular.
This had all but disappeared at the time of the Reformation. Music had moved out of the Church and into the secular world. Calvin maintained, however, the Biblical principle that music was created for the church.
His view of music was not a musical, but a theological view. He opened the Scriptures and discovered that music was not created for superficial leisure activities but that music was primarily given to man to strengthen his faith and, thus enabled, serve His Creator, as he ought to.
In the third place, the Lord bestows His gifts upon the Church for service and life. A view of music which embraces both worship and everyday life is foreign to us. For us music is often a diversion, a superficial (though pleasant) dimension to living; it may be a background to other activities — eating, talking, even doing homework — or perhaps an occasional recreation. The idea that music is vital to both worship and its extension, daily life, escapes us.
True, Calvin made a distinction between the music of the Church and the music outside the Church. This distinction, however, is one of degree, not one of substance, for the substance of music as a gift of God remains unaltered in both spheres, but the music outside the service enjoys greater freedom of musical elaboration. Calvin begins his 1543 addition as follows:
And yet the practice of singing may extend more widely [than the church]; it is even in the homes and in the fields an incentive for us, and, as it were, an organ of praise to God, and to lift up our hearts to Him, to console us by meditating upon His virtue, goodness, wisdom, and justice: that which is more necessary than one can say.
The direction of music is not from the outside (daily life) to the inside (the church), but from the Church into the world. The regeneration of man, the saving work which God has undertaken in Jesus Christ, is not confined to the Church but will result in a veritable recreation of the world.
What, in more concrete terms, is this gift of music? The American musicologist, Harry Partch, in my opinion, correctly observes that:
Music has only two ingredients that might be called God-given. The capacity of a body to vibrate and produce sound and the mechanism of the human ear that registers it. All else in the art of music was created by man or is implicit in the human act. 6
On the one hand there is the sound source and other hand the ear. In order to ascertain God's gift of music at its most elementary level — in its original form — it is necessary to reduce the elements even further, particularly where it concerns the sound source. If, for a minute, we think away all musical instruments (the sound sources), we are left with the original sound source, namely man — or rather his vocal chords. These vocal chords produce sounds, when they are made to vibrate by man's breath, the very substance of life.
Music, the gift of God, at its most profound level, then is the gift of life. Ancient cultures understood this principle, for in singing they paid back to God the grateful tribute of the breath of life. In thankfulness they returned to God the gift of life in well-modulated tones.7
Precisely there, in the dependence of the creature on the breath of life and salvation, we encounter the origin of music. There too we find the origin of the song of praise, for in it we not only acknowledge and accept the relation Creator-creature, but also the salvation that comes to us in Christ Jesus.
In John 11: 25,26, Jesus says:
I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me, though he die, yet shall live, and whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die.
Faith appropriates the ultimate gift of life when we open our ears to the words of Christ. Music, therefore, does not begin with the sound source and our action upon it. Music has its beginning in the ear, in listening to God. Music begins when we pay heed to God's work in Christ, then in thankfulness "we pick a chord, go twang, and then [and only then] we have music."
Except for the sound source and the ear, all other aspects of the musical process are inventions of more or less talented human beings. What we tend to call music and often identify with God's gift is in actuality human in origin.
2. WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THIS GIFT?
When music is not thought of in terms of a gift of God, it cannot fulfil the purpose for which He intended it.
It is, therefore, crucial that we try and find an answer to the question: Why has God made us the gift of music? According to Calvin, music has been given the duty by its Creator of "recreating man and giving him pleasure." That, at first glance, may seem rather odd, for if we think about recreation and pleasure in the sense we give these words today, they contradict what thus far has been said.
The word recreation, in present, common usage, indicates a pastime for relaxation and enjoyment, an innocent diversion from the rat race. Today pleasure means an agreeable, subjective sensation or emotion one might experience as the result of something, for example music.
In other words, recreation and pleasure stands for fun and games. Admittedly, the juxtaposition of Genevan psalm tunes and fun and games is somewhat ludicrous. I don't think that sitting around a camp fire singing Genevan psalms, is considered the highlight of a vacation trip for most Calvinists. Nor do I think that Reformed people build rec-rooms solely for the pleasure of singing psalms.
Surely Calvin had something else in mind. Calvin, as he did with all subjects, approached music from a Biblical perspective and understood it in the context of worship. He begins his 1542 Preface with an introduction.
In it he first underscores the importance of observing the Sunday and second the full understanding of the meaning of the worship service. In order that the reader would receive the full benefit from this understanding, he dealt with three fundamental things.
Now there are briefly three things which our Lord commanded us to observe in our spiritual assemblies: namely the preaching of His Word, prayers public and solemn, and the administration of the sacraments.
After a brief discussion of the preaching and sacraments, he devoted the rest of the Foreword to "prayer and praise" which he subdivided into two kinds: "the ones with the word alone; the others with singing."
Since singing is indissolubly associated with prayer, it is for Calvin one of the three fundamental things of worship. It is in essence the third principal part of the Calvinist worship service.
When the congregation raises her voice in song during the worship service she is in fact praying. The Heidelberg Catechism calls prayer "the most important part of thankfulness." When Calvin views the songs as sung prayer, it means that our songs are the most important part of the thankfulness which God requires of us. That thankfulness comes as a result of the salvation we have received, and prayer is then "the perfect realization of the work of God in us."
The three fundamental things in worship, though not specifically named, appear again in the immediate context of "recreation and pleasure." Calvin writes in the 1543 Preface that "Among the other things (preaching, prayer and sacrament) music is either the first, or one of the principal things which accomplishes the purpose of the worship service: namely recreation and pleasure."
Recreation with Calvin literally means recreation, that is, to be created again. It means that man will once again devote himself to the task for which God has created him, that is, to make the death and resurrection of Christ effective in his life or to perfectly realize the work of God in him.
It need not be argued here that re-creation (regeneration - rebirth) is the object of preaching, prayer or sacrament. However, the fact that it is the object of music (God's gift) as well might be somewhat alien to our thinking. That it is, according to Calvin, the first or principal means might be totally foreign to us.
Pleasure, in the Biblical sense, is not an agreeable and nebulous feeling that we might experience during singing, but is the very outcome of re-creation, namely a Christian manner of life as pleasing to God; a walk of life worthy of Lord; the mark of men and women who have proved themselves of use to the Kingdom of Christ.
The Westminster Confession, in somewhat similar terms, states that our chief concern is "To glorify and enjoy God forever." That vocation is both our duty and delight. It also means that along with the benefit there is a definite risk, for prayer and praise entails coming out of the closet and into the open as partisans of God, 8 not only in church but more importantly during the week.
3. HOW DOES THE GIFT FUNCTION WHAT IS AT STAKE?
Musical reality for the average church-goer constitutes familiarity, and in the field of "Christian music" reality and familiarity are synonymous. That familiarity unfortunately does not come from the Church, but from the songs of the day and from listening to commercially produced recordings of so-called Christian music and from any other musical experience that befalls between Sunday and Sunday. It is in short the reality and familiarity of the world.
Archibald T. Davison puts it thus:
Next Sunday, then, with thousands of other laymen we shall rise and sing "Home on the Range." It will not be called that; it will be, let us say, hymn 148. We shall not recognize our old friend because not enough of him will appear at any one time to make recognition possible, but he will be there in every single technical detail; here a little of his rhythm, there a bit of his melody; suddenly a scrap of his harmony; and we shall know that somewhere we have met this amiable stranger before. Decorously he has altered his gait to suit his environment, but when we have got him safely "amen'd" the more observant of us, sitting in the pews, will be grateful that he had the good taste not to mention that "the skies are not cloudy all day." 9
Almost every measure of the well-loved hymns represents a cross-section of the secular and by — transference — sacred musical experience, and in the familiarity they constitute a comfortable reality which resents interruption. What has happened is that rather than the Church setting the tone for every-day life, the "world" sets the tone for what we are supposed to be doing on Sunday.
In order to gain a better insight in the use and function of the hymn a distinction must be made between the song of the church and the spiritual (religious or sacred) song. This distinction has been emphasized since the beginning of Protestantism, because the specific character and function of the church's song has to do with the liturgical framework in which it operates.
A few words on the liturgy are in order. In their approach to the worship service there was no attempt on the part of the Reformers to break the mold of Western Catholic tradition. The inherited rites were judged theologically by the norm of the Reformation: namely justification by grace through faith. To them the order of worship, now commonly called liturgy, should express God's work among men and not primarily man's service to God. They, therefore, preferred to call the church service, God's service (Godsdienst), that is, God's service to man. That service, simply put, is salvation.
In De Reformatie of February, 1991, Rev. C. André writes:
The worship service is the deposit of God and His salvation. Liturgy literally means "rendering of service." However we do not go to church, because God needs the service of our human hands (Acts 17:25). We go to church, because we are in need of God's service, the service of salvation. The fact that God visits us, makes us glad and that must be celebrated (Ps. 100:4). That is why we go to church. I, therefore, give the following definition of liturgy:
Liturgy is God's service to us, so that we are freed for the service to Him, to each other and to the world.
Part of God's service of salvation, according to Calvin a principal part, is the song of the Church. At one time the Dutch used to call their worship service Godsdienst-oefening, the word regrettably is no longer in vogue. It was replaced by Dienst des Woords (service of the Word) and later by Eredienst (worship service).
Transliterated, Godsdienst-oefening, means: the exercise of God's service, the exercise of salvation. To exercise in general means to make something our own in order to put it into practice at some future date. The idea of Godsdienst-oefening means that during the church service there must be ample room for exercising this service of salvation, in order that we may serve Him during the week.
Calvin describes this function of music during the worship service as follows:
After the intelligence must follow the heart and the affection, a thing which is unable to be except, if we have the hymn imprinted on our memory, in order never to cease from singing.
The purpose of the exercise during the worship service is to imprint on our memory the facts of salvation, so that we will never stop singing during the week. Music then functions as a means by which we make salvation our own. It is, as it were, the bridge between the intellect and the heart or to use Calvin's phrase the "funnel" through which "the wine [of salvation] is poured into the vessel." In a more modern phrase one could say that music is the exercise bike of the liturgy or, if you like, the aerobics of salvation.
Anyone who has ever exercised, particularly when out of shape, knows that it is often difficult and hard work. The complaint is often heard that the Genevan psalm tunes are difficult and boring and that singing them constitutes hard work. However, whether or not the tunes are easy or difficult is not the point. The point is that we generally prefer music which by-passes the intellect and gives us a quick and easy access to our emotions, forgetting that the word of salvation, not the music, is supposed to trigger our heart and affection to sing without ceasing.
In a more recent article Rev. Andre refers to a reformation liturgy, similar to the order of worship B in our Book of Praise, as 'The Path of Salvation" 10 and the American theologian Robert A. Webber calls the liturgy "The Rehearsal of God's Plan of Redemption." 11 It is in this context, this path or plan of salvation that the song of the church functions.
Dr. C. Honders, a Dutch professor of liturgical sciences at the University of Groningen, writes that the songs of the church are "the most obvious deposits (vindplaatsen) of salvation." He continues that since the Reformation we have neglected and ignored them to the detriment of our life of faith and to the shame of our study of theology.
Liturgy and the church song are, however, such striking deposits of salvation, that they correctly should demand our full attention. We only now begin to realize that in coming and singing together (on Sunday), powers are released which are of rare value for the edification of Christ's congregation.12
Calvin identifies "the Psalms which are sung in the Church in the presence of God and His angels," as the liturgical music of the Church. His phraseology implies a dual conception of music as consisting of both melody and text, the latter being the Psalms of David.
His choice of melodic material is determined by the definition that music, as a gift of God, must serve the salvation accomplished in Jesus Christ. "Therefore," he writes, "we ought to be even more diligent in regulating it in such a way that it shall be useful to us and in no way pernicious."
Pernicious means deadly. Music must not serve death but life. The voice being the gift of God at its most elementary, means that the music of the church must be simple in structure, subservient to the text and sung in unison. His choice of the God-centred modal system, in the face of the natural tendency towards secularity, can likewise be explained from his determined "spirituality" to express the gift of God in a God-centred musical system. This was not an anachronistic gesture but a deliberate choice.
Without becoming too technical it is at this point necessary to say something about modality. Its main characteristics are the absence of harmonic tension and the rhythmic fluidity, i.e., the lack of cadential finality or of a regular metrical accent. This translates into a lack of drama on the one hand and a sense of timelessness on the other.
The absence of harmonic tension in modal music divests it of any dramatic sense. "The singer," Wilfrid Mellers writes, "is not interested in the expression of the individual; he is rather the medium through which the Word of God manifests itself." 13
Around 1600 music became dramatic. This was achieved through the creation of harmonic tension. As Richard L. Crocker states; "Composers were primarily interested in projecting music [not texts] at the listeners with overwhelming force. To stun the listener was the most important result." 14 In this type of music the listener could vicariously express and live out his own fantasies and daydreams. It was, in short, music for self dramatization. Except for the rather ill-named New Age music, all contemporary music still extensively employs harmonic tension for creating dramatic effect.
Rhythmic fluidity, lack of cadential finality or of regular metrical accent or, in more popular terms, the lack of beat, conveys the notion of timelessness. According to Calvin, our singing takes place in the "presence of God and his holy Angels." That means that our singing, particularly in the church service, takes place in the context of eternity (timelessness) and thus affords us a foretaste of and training in the eternal sabbath (see Lord's Day 38) in order "never to cease from singing," as Calvin has it. Again all contemporary music with its emphasis on the beat is time or earthbound, if not obsessed with time and material existence.
In the Reformed concept of worship there was no room for music, for self-dramatization nor for time and earth bound musical rhythms, because it was not in keeping with the gift itself nor the purpose it had in the Sunday service.
Modal music, even today, is a description of life based on faith, a repudiation that religion is a security blanket under which nice people get comfortable. 15 Calvin opted for the life of faith, not the false security of a familiar musical blanket under which we day-dream.
Unless we keep the "eternal sabbath" firmly in our mind, to many of us, accustomed as we are to the drama and beat of tonal music in all its forms, the modal Genevan tunes may strike us as tame, gutless and boring. However, let it not be that the craving for human drama and obsession with time stand in the way of the vision of eternal glory.
Recently Dr. J. R. Luth wrote:
Isn't it about time that we establish a point of view with regard to the musical style in the worship service? For it is not dependent upon taste but on education. In doing so we must dispute good and bad taste, for it is co-determined by what we prefer.
Concretely, it deals with the question whether or not the Church should have her own style and why. When that question is answered in the affirmative, it does not mean that we must warn against all sorts of music which are unacceptable for the worship service, but that the church educates her members in her own style and so influences her listening experience.16
Perhaps before dumping the Genevan tunes in favour of the contemporary music scene, we should seriously consider Dr. Luth's question.
Calvin's choice of the Psalms of David, as the text of the song of the church, is not a mere continuance of the Church's venerable tradition, but a deliberate one. Following the opinion of the Church fathers, the Reformers held that the Book of Psalms played an important role in the history of salvation.
Ambrose, for instance, writes:
Although all divine Scripture breathes the grace of God, yet sweet beyond all others is the Book of Psalms.... History instructs, the Law teaches, Prophecy announces, Rebuke chastens, Morality persuades: in the Book of Psalms we have the fruit of all these, and a kind of medicine for the salvation of man.
Luther, speaking about the Book of Psalms, observes:
This Book is, in my judgement, of a different character from the other books. For in the rest we are taught both word and by example what we ought to do; this [book] not only teaches, but imparts both the method and the practice with which to the word, and to copy the example... that so a man may not feel the want of anything which is of import to his eternal salvation.
The Book of Psalms, according to Luther, gives us then the means to put our faith into practice.
Calvin's sentiments were similar in nature. In the Preface to his Commentary he writes:
The rest of Scripture contains the commands which God gave to His servants to be delivered unto us; but here the Prophets themselves, holding converse with God, inasmuch as they lay bare all their inmost feelings, invite or impel every one of us to self-examination.
A little later he refers to the book of Psalms as "the greatest safeguard of our salvation" and adds "the further any man shall have advanced in the understanding of it, the greater will be his attainment in the school of God." 17
The Psalms, set to modal tunes, are the deposits of salvation and function within the liturgy, the path of salvation, for the purpose of re-birth and the life of faith.
The Church sings psalms. They are the deposit and source of our faith. A faith that honours the God of Israel above all others. This can be summarized with the words of Psalm 85, stanza one:
Thou hast shown favour to Thy land,
And Jacob's fortunes were restored.
Thy people Thou hast from their guilt set free;
Thou didst forgive all their iniquity.
From that turn of events, that change, that intervention we live and sing. That then is God's gift of music which, according to Luther, "is the loving care and grace of our God towards us, Who is blessed forevermore."
1 Eric Routley, Music Leadership in the Church (Nashville, 1967), pp. 46, 28.
2 Steven E. Plank, Performance and "La Musica": A Matter of Choice in Musick, Vol. 13 No 1, July 1991, p. 4.
3 Acts General Synod Winnipeg, MB 1989 Artide 145, pp. 106-108.
4 Quotations from Ian Crofton & Donald Fraser, A Dictionary of Musical Quotations (New York, 1985).
5 Wilfrid Mellers, Music and Society (New York, 1950), p. 44.
6 Harry Partch, Genesis of a Music, (New York, 1974), p. xvi.
7 Wilfrid Mellers, Bach and the Dance of God (London, 1980), p. 4.
8 Walter Brueggemann, Israel's Praise (Philadelphia, 1988), p. 2.
9 A. T. Davison, Church Music: Illusion and Reality (Cambridge, 1960), pp. 89, 90.
10. André, "De Weg van Heil" in Orgeldienst, 18-2, 1991, p.24.
11 Robert E. Webber, Common Roots (Grand Rapids, 1978), p. 101.
12 A. C. Honders, "Een Eeuwenoud Wonder" in Klinkend Geloof ('s-Gravenhage, 1978), p. 11.
13 Wilfrid Mellers, Music and Society (New York, 1950), p.36.
14 Richard L. Crocker, A History of Musical Style (New York, 1966), p. 225.
15 Calvin M. Johansson, Music & Ministry (Peabody, 1988), p.120.
16 JR. Luth, "Eredienst is de moeite van het bestuderen waard" in Nederlands Dagblad, Dec. 16, 1989, p. 9.
17 All quotations on the Psalms from J. J. Stewart Perowne, The Book of Psalms (Grand Rapids, 1976), pp. 22-29.