Hymns do matter: 'Tis Good, Lord, to Be Here!

We need our old hymns*. They are beautiful and uplifting -- and one under-rated quality of time-tested hymns is their, for lack of a better word, information. They are catechetical. They teach, winsomely, without didactic heaviness. Teach is the wrong word, maybe. They just infuse knowledge -- one comes away with understanding.

Maybe you saw this revealing post from Dallas Jenkins, producer of the hit TV series The Chosen. 

It's revealing in so many ways. Ignorance, yes, but also a strange lack of humility combined with a determinedly earth-bound vision. Mystery, hiddenness, the cloud of unknowing, the literal voice of God -- these things don't fit into his paradigm of what constitutes a story of Jesus's life. 

"It's just TV, Leila" -- I guess! But interesting how one's Christology will creep in... 

Anyway, back to hymns.

An English-speaking person of yore who worshipped liturgically would have sung 'Tis Good, Lord, to Be Here perhaps two times a year. The melody is lovely and singable (of course -- it's composed by Johann S. Bach; Tune: Potsdam)

If Dallas Jenkins -- not to mention many other Christians, including Catholics -- sang 'Tis Good, Lord, to Be Here, he might begin to grasp the importance of this Gospel. I first heard the hymn at the Anglican Use Mass I went to, on the feast day, some years ago. The economy of expression struck me -- the poetry manages to convey an essay's worth of exegesis in a few verses! 

Yesterday, we sang it at our parish. I noticed: When we sing, we are drawn through the various doctrinal and even historical points without effort. The rhymes are pleasing, the meter peaceful. We are simply led to contemplate the scene and its implications. 

And we are not left without a real spiritual conclusion that we can bring to prayer, in the final brief and poignant phrase.

In short, the hymn offers a fairly complete experience! Why would we abandon this treasure?

 'Tis Good Lord to Be Here

The first stanza sets the scene. We have just heard it in the Gospel reading. Now we consider it again -- what was going on? 

We are there; we survey:

1. 'Tis good, Lord, to be here,

Thy glory fills the night;

Thy face and garments, like the sun,

Shine with unborrowed light.

We consider it more in its detail while savoring it and loving the Lord's beauty. We wonder: why Moses and Elijah? They represent the past.

2. 'Tis good, Lord, to be here,

Thy beauty to behold

Where Moses and Elijah stand,

Thy messengers of old.

And is that all? 

No -- the unity of salvation history in Christ is unveiled here on the mountain: The Past. The Present. And the glimpse into what is in store, which the disciples cannot foretell, though He has been warning them. But for now he reveals a taste of heaven with its glory. We need this reminder, because, like Dallas Jenkins, we are stuck on the flat, horizontal plane and have forgotten that this world is not our true home.

 If we stay with Christ, we are promised redemption.

3. Fulfiller of the past,

Promise of things to be,

We hail Thy body glorified

And our redemption see.

The Transfiguration account (Mt 17:1-9) contains a foretaste of our death, but Our Lord didn't want his disciples to lose hope; he allowed them this vision. They -- Peter -- responded by exuberantly declaring his wish to stay there in that state -- to do something! Perhaps erect booths? Something to keep it!

4. Before we taste of death,

We see Thy kingdom come;

We fain would hold the vision bright

And make this hill our home.

The Lord gently shows him otherwise. Even an illumination on the heights is not enough to fulfill us. Instead, our resolve must be to obey and to beg Him to abide with us for the time we dwell here below. "Come with us to the plain!"

5. 'Tis good, Lord, to be here.

Yet we may not remain;

But since Thou bid'st us leave the mount,

Come with us to the plain.

 

 Here it's sung to another, also lovely, tune:

 

 *If we recover the old, we will then have a basis for creativity in the new; but without recovery, we are doomed to an ever-spiraling descent into banality and loss of memory.