Justin Appel

Dear Friends,

Today’s reading from Isaiah (chapter 13, verses 1-13) has me contemplating musical expressions of God’s glory. This famous passage relates Isaiah’s vision of God, in which “the hem of his robe filled the temple.” The seraphim that fly above God’s presence cry to each other, covering their faces and feet:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts: heaven and earth are full of your glory.

Overcome by the terror of this vision, Isaiah says ‘Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips…”

Many composers have tried to depict the glory of God in their liturgical settings, to varying effects. While such music seeks to convey the majesty of God’s person, sometimes in surprising or even frightening ways, it is God’s gift that allows a composer to inhabit the interior life of Isaiah in the moment of his vision, his terror and utter submission, his humility.

Sometimes composers use expressive extremes to convey God’s splendor, whether in angular splitting harmonies, thunderous registers on the organ, or with fiery exclamation of the word “Holy.” Others pursue a more mysterious, uncomfortable, and alien soundscape to communicate God’s otherness sonically.

Yet others take a solitary path, writing notes that seems to flow from an experience of that “still small voice,” and which point to the inner reality of God present in the heart of hearts. I find this latter music most valuable because it holds the capacity to awaken us individually to the reality of God’s presence. Such material is like a vision of some “far green country” diffused through “the grey rain curtain of this world.” Through it, we remember our sinfulness, God’s mercy, and the future hope of redemption. The following examples are of this rare sort:

Sanctus from the Berliner Messe by Arvo Pärt

Trisagion from Canticles and Prayers by Georgy Sviridov

Yours in Christ,

—Justin