REMINDER: Daylight Saving Time ends this Sunday; set clocks back one hour.
This Sunday is All Souls Day, also known as “the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed,” and we have the special treat to experience a complete orchestral Requiem in our Sunday worship.
Death has been swallowed up by a victory.
Where is your victory, Death?
Where is your sting, Death? 1 Corinthians 15:55
God will swallow up death forever.
The Lord God will wipe tears from every face;
and will remove their people’s disgrace from off the whole earth. Isaiah 25:8
Years ago I sang in the Tanglewood Festival Chorus of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, alongside our own Jim D, ringing tenor in our choir. The first concert I did with them was Verdi’s gigantic Requiem mass, a staggering, full-ranging piece with orchestra and chorus that is nearly as grand as the composer’s famous operas. It captivated me with its scale and unfiltered emotional impact. Over seven seasons, I gradually became acquainted with many of the great choral works of the orchestral repertoire. It was a tremendous education about classical composers and world-class artists.
A Requiem mass is often considered one of the pinnacles of several composer’s works (Mozart, Berlioz, Brahms, Britten, Duruflé). It’s a full expression of sacred music on a grand scale — usually only heard in their entirety in the concert hall or in recordings. We are the only church I’ve been a part of that actually incorporates the Requiem into our Sunday worship. The experience is deeply moving.
This Sunday, we will worship with Gabriel Fauré’s beautiful Requiem (1887-90). It’s a huge labor of love of our choir and Minister of Music, with an accompanying string ensemble.
While other composers made the “Dies irae” (day of wrath) and fear of death a centerpiece of their requiems, Fauré’s work is consistently gentle, comforting, soothing, reassuring.
Fauré himself said of the work, “Everything I managed to entertain by way of religious illusion I put into my Requiem, which moreover is dominated from beginning to end by a very human feeling of faith in eternal rest.” Some described it as “a lullaby of death.” The composer responded, “it is thus that I see death: as a happy deliverance, an aspiration towards happiness above, rather than as a painful experience.”
Come Sunday, bring friends and family. We invite you also to bring your own memories of dearly departed family and friends who have made a difference in your life. We will say these names out loud to soar upward amid the music and our own prayers.
Image credit: “Mercy” by Kate Baker-Carr
