And we thought OCP was bad

Actually ‘sewage’ is appropriate.

Here’s my response, sung to the tune to ‘Now Thank We All Our God.’

Where Did this Hymn come from?
I think I know the answer
It came from someone Dumb
Whose mind has got a cancer
They think its kinda cute
They think it brings us bliss,
But they should get the boot
And cut the hymns like this.

I give you “A Touching Place,” which I believe is in GIA’s “Gather” hymnal.

There’s a copy on page 4 of this PDF:
http://www.mercyworld.org/reflections/sacred/media/easter2005.pdf

I rather wish that Providence would have allowed for a litte more even distribution of musical genius over the ages. Instead, the 16th-19th centuries got almost all of it and ours got none. Alas.

Ever since Jubilate lost the “Hymn Explosion,” that has been the strength of my competition.

More of the same: http://www.hymnsocietygbi.org.uk/
(Click on Latest Changes, then New Texts)

My eyes! They burn! My brain! It melts!

Oh, dear Lord above – I really, honestly thought that was a parody, until I read the fine print – apparently it’s an adaptation of a ‘hymn’ called “The Wind Came To Honduras” from six years ago or so; I didn’t have the courage to look for the original.

And the Touching Place thing? I went to school to the Sisters of Mercy! And now they’re reduced to this? I’m going to have to go put on some Arvo Part now to rinse out my brain.

The problem is: money.
The solution: money. Specifically, a revival of the ancient Christian art of patronage.

There are hymn writing competitions, with cash prizes, for just this sort of nonsense. In the 70s and 80s organizations sponsored hymn contests specifically for hymns on “non-traditional topics” such as the modern city or the electric light bulb or how great we all are.

There is a contest right now, sponsored by NPM, for an “ecumenical Communion hymn”. Maybe it will be as good as the hymn they commissioned in the early 90’s, Sing a New Church into Being!

So if any person or parish would like to have a positive influence on liturgical music, sponsor a $500 contest for a hymn about a real hymn topic, such as one of the mysteries of the Lord or our Lady, or about the destiny of the Church. Get good people to judge it–they’d probably be happy to see this kind of initiative.

I present, “Silence! Frenzied, Unclean Spirit.”

References to “grey cells of our mind” competes with sewage.

That’s awful. And awfully funny, that’s the problem. Now I’m laughing at the tsunami. But it’s worse when these hymns are actually sung during the Liturgy, when even a good hymn can trigger laughter if it coincidentally applies to a current situation.
If you’re female, and you’ve ever had an “outpouring” when standing up to sing “River of Glory” (or if you’re a parent and your child’s bladder gives out at just that time) you know what I mean. You can never hear the hymn in the same way again.
I can therefore sympathize with the hearers of “The Touching Place”, though by the title already, laughter is guaranteed. I’ll never forget that Sunday of my childhood when, during the presentation of the gifts, my brother connected “Take Our Bread” with the money in his hand. We were asked to leave, that’s how uncontrollable our laughter became!
Shouldn’t the poorly or imprudently written or implemented hymns (In case of River of Glory, it wasn’t the lyrics)be seen as “sources of scandal” in the sense of tempting the faithful? MOST words can be taken the wrong way, but some expressions just lend themselves to hilarity.

The song makes me sympathise more on the listeners and singers than the victims.

I’m of two minds regarding this. On the one hand, it _is_ a poorly written song; perhaps too hastily written. The choice of melody (which connotes reverential majesty) is totally wrong for the words (which are a cry for mercy, specific to a time and place). Furthermore, the words themselves are not the sort that an entire congregation would feel accustomed to singing.

On the other hand, there is a cry to God here that a lot of us seem to have ignored. People have suffered greatly under that great tsunami disaster, which has wiped out entire villages and populations. This should not be taken lightly.

I’m not saying nobody here is doing this, but I am getting the impression that people are more interested in the form of the song than the message. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t use this song in public. But the subject matter is too deadly serious to openly mock. Who said it–that “If something is worth doing, it’s worth doing badly”?

“On the other hand, there is a cry to God here that a lot of us seem to have ignored. People have suffered greatly under that great tsunami disaster, which has wiped out entire villages and populations. This should not be taken lightly.”

I get your point. Although the effect of the stupid song is to make the listeners take the tsunami disaster lightly.

Nick, this song is not only artistically problematic but theologically problematic as well. A liturgical song is not the place to question God’s wisdom. Nor is it, as here, the place to pit the Father’s providence (verse 1) against Jesus’ Incarnation (verse 2) and the Holy Spirit’s comforting (verse 3).

In the OT, many songs were written to complain. The Psalms are full of complaints, and they should be our teachers as we go forward with music. But it is a delicate thing to complain in faith. The psalmists resolve the problem in different ways; in Psalm 22 (Palm Sunday liturgy) there is a quite specific turning point, in which the Psalm goes from prophetic complaining about the sufferings of Jesus to their meaning in the plan of God. Psalm 88 (Friday compline) has no turnaround; it is a simple complaint: this is how it is with me, God. Help me, for your Name’s sake.

What usually goes wrong with these tragedy-hymns (I’ve read dozens of texts that were written after 9-11, for example) is that the writer tries to complete the theological thought in them. A sort of tidy answer is usually made, rather than leaving this new problem open for God’s own answer and saving action. In O God, that Great Tsunami, tragically, the answer seems to be: God the Father is mean and makes waves that kill, but Jesus is our friend who shares our suffering, and the Holy Spirit comforts us and empowers us to help. In other words, the Trinity is divided in purpose. Ouch.