The Politics of the Psalms

Perhaps it has something to do with my first name, but I have always been fascinated by the biblical book of the Psalms. I grew up singing from a hymn book in which the Psalms set to meter were given a prominent place. The liturgical practice of singing the Psalms has ancient roots going back to temple and synagogue worship, finding its way also into Christian churches. It is thus not surprising that, until the end of the 18^th century, the majority of Protestants sang from metrical psalters containing all 150 Psalms. Most Protestants since then have abandoned this practice, but many in the Reformed tradition have held to it, glorifying God, as it is often said, in his own words.

Read more here.

Singing the Psalms: in German, Czech and Dutch

For Christmas this year my beloved wife gave me an antiquarian copy of the Lobwasser Psalter, a sturdy little volume that has weathered the centuries remarkably well. The Lobwasser Psalter was a German-language translation of the Genevan Psalms set to verse in 1573 by Ambrosius Lobwasser (1515-1585), a Lutheran teaching law at Königsberg in East Prussia. His translation was based on the French text he had heard the Huguenots singing during his stay in the Berry region of France. Lobwasser intended his Psalter primarily for private use. This edition was published in Zürich in 1770, by which time it was evidently being used in public worship as well.

At age 21 during a visit to Prague (in what was then still communist Czechoslovakia) I purchased a Czech-language psalter and hymnal published in 1900 by the Unity of the Brethren, also known variously as the Bohemian Brethren, the Moravian Brethren and the Unitas Fratrum. I have now scanned and posted the psalter portion of this Malý Kancionál (Little Hymnal) for the benefit of those interested in a lesser known tradition of metrical psalm-singing. This Czech translation, to be sung to the Genevan melodies, was made by Jiří Strejc (also known as Georg Vetter, 1536-1599), a minister in this church from Zábřeh in Moravia. Strejc studied in Tübingen and Königsberg and came into contact with the Lobwasser Psalter, which impressed him so favourably that he decided to model his own Czech versification on it, an undertaking he completed in 1587. Strejc is probably best known for his German-language hymn text, Mit Freuden Zart, familiar in English as Sing Praise to God, Who Reigns Above, the tune to which comes from the Bohemian Brethren's Kirchengesänge (1566) and bears more than a passing resemblance to that of Genevan Psalm 138.

My thus far preliminary research has raised some intriguing questions worth further exploration. First, might Strejc have met Lobwasser personally in Königsberg and thereby come under his more direct influence?

Second, given that the Kirchengesänge were produced by the same group of which Strejc was a minister, might this be evidence of a connection between the tunes for Psalm 138 and Mit Freuden Zart? To be sure, Strejc's versification of that Psalm came later, but might the Unity of the Brethren have become aware of the Genevan tunes earlier, and might it have been through Strejc? Tellingly, the Lutheran Book of Worship (1978) ascribes the tune directly to the "Trente quatre pseaumes de David, Geneva, 1551." These two possibilities are probably mutually exclusive.

Third, if Lobwasser based his translations on the French text of Marot and Bèze (for which he was criticized by his Lutheran colleagues), and if Strejc based his translations on Lobwasser's German text, how true are Strejc's texts to the Hebrew? Only someone conversant in Czech and Hebrew, and perhaps all four languages, would be able to answer this question satisfactorily.





By the way, the city of Königsberg has been called Kaliningrad since 1945 and has been part of the Russian Federation. At some point there was talk of changing the name (Kalinin was a Stalin-era Soviet functionary) to honour its most famous citizen, Immanuel Kant. I would like to suggest as an alternative that it be renamed for either Lobwasser or Strejc. Or even both: Lobwasserstrejcgrad!

Those interested in becoming better acquainted with congregational psalm-singing in the Netherlands would do well to check out Ijsselm's Channel on youtube (short for Ijsselmeer perhaps?). Here one finds a number of recently-posted Genevan Psalms sung in the traditional 19th-century Dutch fashion characterized by four distinctive features: (1) they are sung at a slow pace; (2) they are often sung in isometric rhythm (i.e., every note having equal value), as opposed to the more syncopated rhythms of the original tunes; (3) the organist plays the initial note for a few seconds before the congregation joins in, leaving the impression that the congregation is lagging behind; and (4) the arrangements used suppress the modal flavour of the original tunes. Here is one example:



I might point out that, amongst the Dutch Canadians I know personally, many dislike intensely this style of singing and their churches have thus altogether abandoned the Genevan Psalms for more contemporary fare. I find this tragic, and my own Genevan Psalter website is part of a larger ongoing project to recover the Genevan tradition and to make it more singable for younger generations of Christians in a variety of traditions.

Psalter updates

I have posted New year updates, 2010 on my Genevan Psalter blog, primarily describing the latest additions to the website.

Gaelic psalms. . .

. . . are posted on my Genevan Psalter blog.

Chanting the Psalms

Imagine, if you will, what it would be like if Christians were to hold competitions in chanting the Psalms similar to what we see below.



If Suzanne Haïk-Vantoura (1912-2000) is correct (which is disputed), it is possible that the entire Old Testament was once chanted. Listen to this NPR report below:



Here is Haïk-Vantoura's rendition of Psalm 23. Is her thesis plausible? I wouldn't presume to judge, but it is intriguing, if nothing else.

Psalm scores posted

Ten years after I posted my Genevan Psalter website, I have now uploaded printable scores in PDF format for virtually all of the psalms, canticles and hymns I have written or arranged. In some cases these may not be precisely the same arrangements as the midi files. It will take me some time to go through these one by one to bring some consistency to them, which is a project for another day. For those wishing to sing them in formal or informal settings, I have posted at the bottom of the front page of this site my terms of use, along with the copyright information.

Kuyper and the psalms

The famous Dutch polymath stands corrected: Kuyper on the Genevan melodies

Genevan Psalter blog

I have just set up a blog as part of my Genevan Psalter website. In future I will be posting updates to my site and other material of interest there and will link to those from here. To get things going, I have also republished some of the major psalm-related posts from this blog to that one, so there is already a small archive. Check back for new posts and further updates.

Genevan Psalms on the web

The Genevan Psalms are gradually increasing their presence on the internet. To reflect this, I have recently updated my own Psalter pages by improving and adding to the section I've titled The Psalms on Youtube, differentiating in particular between those performances of Dutch and Hungarian origins. (As indicated before in this space, I far prefer what the latter have done with the Psalms to the former's treatments.) Below is Zoltán Kodály's haunting arrangement of Psalm 121, performed by the 270-year-old Debrecen College Cantus:



And while we're on the subject of the Debreceni Református Kollégiumi Kántus (as it is known in Hungarian), their website boasts a number of excellent music files available for download. My own recommendations? Psalms 19, 46, 50, 65, and 114. The group definitely deserves more recognition on this side of the pond.

And one more: I have just received an email from Hungary informing me of yet another website in that country devoted to the Genevan Psalms: Psalms sung by József Dinnyés, as set to verse by Albert Szenci Molnár (1574-1634). After listening to some of these pieces, I would judge that the effect is remarkably similar to the late Burl Ives singing his well-known folk ballads. It's worth a listen for its unique treatment of these ancient songs.

Gelineau Psalmody

This is an exquisite recording that I acquired just over a year ago. It is well worth listening to and savouring. Of course Jews and Christians have been singing the Psalms for two millennia and more. There are various ways to sing them, including chant and metrical psalmody, the latter of which requires versification according to set metres. Gelineau psalmody is unique in that it combines elements of both. Here is my description of Gelineau psalmody from my 1989 Reformed Worship article, Straight from Scripture:

One of the more interesting ways of singing the psalms was developed by Joseph Gelineau of France. Of all the methods of singing the psalms, Gelineau's chant best preserves the Hebrew poetic style, retaining both the parallelism and the metrical structure of the original. Ancient Hebrew meter is somewhat like early English meter (e.g., nursery rhymes) in that it focuses on the number of stresses within a line rather than on the number of syllables. Gelineau psalmody is often sung to the Grail translation, which was produced specifically for this purpose. The following passage (. . . from Psalm 54) is "pointed" to indicate the regular rhythmic stresses in each line:

          O Gód, sáve me by your náme;
          by your pówer, uphóld my caúse.
          O Gód, heár my práyer;
          lísten to the wórds of my moúth.

Gelineau psalmody also takes into account the different number of lines within each stanza, something that is not possible with other methods of psalm-chanting.

Gelineau psalms are usually sung responsively. The soloist or choir begins by singing the refrain; then the congregation repeats it. The psalm then proceeds responsively with a soloist or choir chanting the verses and the congregation responding with the refrain. Many Roman Catholics, who have recently begun congregational singing, have found this "responsorial" style of psalm-singing very helpful. A refrain (or antiphon, an older term) is much easier to learn than the whole psalm. Among Protestants who are used to exclusive metrical psalmody, the responsorial style has the advantage of making a clear distinction between psalms and hymns. Rather than simply reading the psalm directly from the Bible or singing a paraphrased version of it metrically, the congregation can sing the actual words from Scripture.

This particular recording is performed by the Cathedral Singers of Chicago, conducted by Richard Proulx. Gelineau psalmody is by now familiar to two generations of Catholics, but not to protestants and Orthodox Christians. It deserves to be better known amongst all the followers of Christ.

The Psalms on Youtube

I have recently updated my Genevan Psalter website by adding to the links page a section titled The Psalms on Youtube. These performances come from the Netherlands and Hungary, where the Psalms have been sung for centuries by Reformed Christians. Having listened to them, I much prefer the Hungarian to the Dutch treatments, but you may judge for yourself. Here are two samples below performed by Vox Humana Choir of Vác under the direction of József Maklári. The arrangements are those of Zoltán Kodály. The first is Psalm 114 and the second 121.

Singing God's psalms

Around the time of my trip to Australia two years ago, I learned of the existence of this musical group founded by Matthew Jacoby: Sons of Korah, who specialize in singing the biblical Psalms. Here they are performing Psalm 125:

Peculiar 'penalty' no penalty at all

This item caught my eye: Chilean judge sentences Catholic priest to recite psalms for traffic violation. "A judge in southern Chile has sentenced a Catholic priest to recite seven psalms daily for three months as punishment for illegal parking." I'm sorry, but this is no punishment. Indeed it amounts to a "lite" version of the Liturgy of the Hours, which has been practised in the monasteries for the better part of two millennia. Many nonmonastic priests observe this anyway. By God's grace, it's just possible that, at the end of the three months, he will decide to continue a discipline that will have become part of him.

The decline of Psalms in the liturgy

This is a sad account of the decline of Psalms in the western liturgy taken from the 1913 edition of the Catholic Encyclopedia under the entry for "Gradual". I have taken the liberty of breaking it up into paragraphs and deleting the source citations for easier reading.

Gradual, in English often called Grail, is the oldest and most important of the four chants that make up the choir's part of the Proper of the Mass. Whereas the three others (Introit, Offertory, and Communion) were introduced later, [to] fill up the time while something was being done, the Gradual (with its supplement, the Tract or Alleluia) represents the singing of psalms alternating with readings from the Bible, a custom that is as old as these readings themselves. Like them, the psalms at this place are an inheritance from the service of the Synagogue. Copied from that service, alternate readings and psalms filled up a great part of the first half of the Liturgy in every part of the Christian world from the beginning.

Originally whole psalms were sung. In the "Apostolic Constitutions" they are chanted after the lessons from the Old Testament: "The readings by the two (lectors) being finished, let another one sing the hymns of David and the people sing the last words after him." This use of whole psalms went on till the fifth century. St. Augustine says: "We have heard first the lesson from the Apostle. Then we sang a psalm. After that the lesson of the gospel showed us the ten lepers healed."

These psalms were an essential part of the Liturgy, quite as much as the lessons. "They are sung for their own sake; meanwhile the celebrants and assistants have nothing to do but to listen to them." They were sung in the form of a psalmus responsorius, that is to say, the whole text was chanted by one person — a reader appointed for this purpose. (For some time before St. Gregory I, to sing these psalms was a privilege of deacons at Rome. It was suppressed by him in 595.) The people answered each clause or verse by some acclamation. In the "Apostolic Constitutions" they repeat his last modulations.

Another way was to sing some ejaculation each time. An obvious model of this was Ps. cxxxv [Hebrew: 136] with its refrain: "quoniam in æternum misericordia eius" ["for his mercy endures for ever"]; from which we conclude that the Jews too knew the principle of the responsory psalm. . . . It appears that originally, while the number of biblical lessons was still indefinite, one psalm was sung after each.

When three lessons became the normal custom (a Prophecy, Epistle, and Gospel) they were separated by two psalms. During the fifth century the lessons at Rome were reduced to two; but the psalms still remain two, although both are now joined together between the Epistle and Gospel, as we shall see. Meanwhile, as in the case of many parts of the Liturgy, the psalms were curtailed, till only fragments of them were left. This process, applied to the first of the two, produced our Gradual; the second became the Alleluia or Tract. . . .

It is difficult to say exactly when the Gradual got its present form. We have seen that in St. Augustine's time, in Africa, a whole psalm was still sung. So also St. John Chrysostom alludes to whole psalms sung after the lessons. . . . In Rome the psalm seems not yet to have been curtailed: "Wherefore we have sung the psalm of David with united voices, not for our honour, but for the glory of Christ the Lord." Between this time and the early Middle Ages the process of curtailing brought about our present [1913] arrangement.

One of the things the 16th-century Reformers wished to do was to restore the Psalms to worship, an effort that appears to need renewal every generation, even in churches that are heirs to the Reformation. My own website, dedicated to the Genevan Psalter, is intended to be part of this effort.

Did you know. . .

. . . that Miles Coverdale's 16th-century translation of the biblical Psalms uses the English word "luck" three times: in Psalms 45:5, 118:26 and 129:8?

No revising the BCP

The recent General Synod of the Anglican Church has decided not to revise or scrap the Book of Common Prayer — yet. However, the 27-year-old Book of Alternative Services will be altered at some point.

Prayer Book conservatives in this country might do well to remind themselves that the 1962 edition of the BCP, for all its undoubted virtues, abridged the Psalter to leave out the more imprecatory sentiments, e.g., the end of Psalm 137 and the entirety of Psalm 58! Whatever one thinks of the BAS, its creators at least saw fit to include all of the Psalms, even the ones that offend modern sensibilities.

Song of the Three Youths


I have posted on my Genevan Psalter website my most recent song, a metrical versification of the Song of the Three Youths, variously known also as the Song of the Three Holy Children or simply the Song of the Three. This marvellous hymn of praise is traditionally ascribed to Daniel's three companions from within the fiery furnace after they had been cast there by the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar. It does not appear in the Hebrew canon, but it is found in the Septuagint and later translations based on it, where it is inserted into the third chapter of Daniel. Though not strictly regarded as canonical by Christians of the Reformation, it has nevertheless found its way into the church's sung canticles, as found in the Book of Common Prayer and the Lutheran liturgy. Both text and tune I wrote earlier this week. The tune I have titled BENEDICITE, after the Latin name for the canticle, Benedicite Omnia Opera.

This morning I was privileged to examine an ancient edition of the Geneva Bible published in England towards the end of the 16th century. Following the text of the Scriptures itself is a section with liturgical resources, in which the Benedicite finds an honoured place. Indeed it deserves to be known and sung widely by all Christians of every tradition.

Praying through the psalms: translations

In recent days I've been reading through Miles Coverdale's translations of the Psalms according to the schedule prescribed in the Book of Common Prayer. I am just old enough to have grown up with the King James Version (KJV) of the Bible, so the Elizabethan English is not altogether foreign to me. When I do run into something incomprehensible, I am sufficiently familiar with the psalms to know what is being said in most cases. From a literary standpoint, Coverdale's translations seem somewhat less polished than the KJV's, including such redundant constructions as "Most Highest," which would be regarded as grammatically incorrect nowadays.

We English-speakers are, of course, blessed — or perhaps cursed? — with a plethora of translations of the Bible. The downside to this is that, lacking a standard translation comparable to the old KJV, scripture memorization has taken a beating over the past generation or two. The advantage is that reading different translations of the same passage can give one an insight into its meaning. However, what do we do when two translations obviously conflict? Here's Psalm 7:4-5 from the Revised Standard Version:

if I have requited my friend with evil or plundered my enemy without cause,
let the enemy pursue me and overtake me. . . .

Here, however, is the same passage from the New Jerusalem Bible:

if I have repaid my ally with treachery or spared one who attacked me unprovoked,
may an enemy hunt me down and catch me

Nearly every other English translation follows the RSV's interpretation, but the NJB footnote says this:

The text must not be watered down as in the versions. . . ; the morality of the Gospel is yet to come.

Someone versed in Hebrew would be better able than I to determine which is the correct rendition.

Psalms in wartime


As a lifelong aficionado of old books, I have made a point of visiting the local antiquarian bookshops while travelling. During a visit to Prague in what was then still called Czechoslovakia in November 1976, I found more than one such shop and purchased a number of volumes dating from the 19th century. One of these was a metrical psalter and hymnal published in 1900, a scanned photograph of which can be found on my Genevan Psalter website.

Another volume dates from 1845 and contains the New Testament and Psalms translated into the Czech language. (Years later I was struck by the irony of my having taken a Bible out of a communist country!) The print is in the old German blackletter and the text uses an older spelling (with "w" for "v", "j" for "i", &c.). The frontispiece (shown above) indicates that this edition was intended for use by "Evangelical Christians of the Augsburg and Helvetic Confessions," i.e., by Lutheran and Reformed Christians.


The Psalms are, of course, of special interest to me, especially the various ways they are used in the course of the liturgy or by individual believers at prayer. Two days ago, while paging through this section, I discovered something I hadn't before noticed. The owner of this volume at the beginning of the 20th century, whose name seems to have been Karel (spelt "Carl" in the handwritten name at the bottom of the page opposite the frontispiece) Lány, read through the Psalms at the pace of one psalm per day (except for Psalm 119), taking time to mark the date at the top of each. (Might it have been this Karel Lány?) He started with Psalm 1 on "1./8.", i.e., 1 August 1914, and continued until he read Psalm 150 on "18./I. 1915", i.e., 18 January 1915.

The timing may not have been incidental. Lány lived in Austria-Hungary, whose heir to the throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, had been assassinated in Sarajevo on 28 June. Tensions had mounted after that, with Austria-Hungary issuing an ultimatum to Serbia on 23 July and declaring war five days later. This quickly brought the other European powers onside of either Austria or Serbia, with battles beginning and intensifying into the autumn and winter months. It seems rather likely that Lány — apparently a Lutheran or Reformed Christian living in the predominantly Catholic Czech provinces — turned to the Psalms as the Great War was breaking out.

Perhaps he had a son of conscription age and was concerned for his safety should his country go to war. As a member of a religious minority (and with Hungarian origins at that), he may have sensed how fragile his country's unity really was at the outset of what proved to be the defining event of the 20th century. One can only imagine the subsequent history of this little book. It is possible that Lány lived into the nazi and communist eras, when atheistic régimes made it costly to maintain a public witness to the faith. After Lány's death, the volume may have passed down to his children and grandchildren who were perhaps less appreciative of its significance, selling it to an antiquarian bookseller, whence it came into my hands three decades ago. Of course this can only be speculation.

One thing is certain. While the Battle of Tannenberg was raging to the north between Germany and Russia, Lány read these words from Psalm 27:

Though a host encamp against me,
my heart shall not fear;
though war arise against me,
yet I will be confident.
One thing have I asked of the LORD,
that will I seek after;
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to behold the beauty of the LORD,
and to inquire in his temple.
For he will hide me in his shelter
in the day of trouble;
he will conceal me under the cover of his tent,
he will set me high upon a rock.

Pentecost and Psalm 104

A little over two decades ago I wrote a hymn text titled simply A Hymn for Pentecost, which I have just posted on my Genevan Psalter website. Here is the text:

O Spirit of God, descend as a dove,
alight on our hearts, fill them with your love.
As once the apostles were touched by your flame,
so rest upon us that new life we may claim.

O Fount of our faith, come, grant us your grace
that we might believe and so find a place
within your blest Kingdom, as promised to all
whom God in his mercy has chosen to call.

O Breath of true life, breathe into our pleas
the words that we dare to speak on our knees;
for we are God's children and heirs of his love,
therefore may we call on our Father above.

O Source of all strength, make us to be bold,
as oft you inspired your prophets of old.
Now give us the courage plainly to declare
your life-giving message to all who will hear.

O Counsellor, come: our spirit renew,
and guide your elect in paths that are true.
O lead us through shadows that darken our way
that we may walk joyfully into the day.

Text copyright © 1985 by David T. Koyzis

The tune I chose was OLD 104TH, composed by Thomas Ravenscroft for his Whole Book of Psalms, published in 1621. I had recently heard a recording of Ralph Vaughan Williams' Fantasia on the Old 104th Psalm Tune, which was my introduction to this melody. My choice was influenced by the ancient tradition appointing the singing of Psalm 104 on the feast of Pentecost.

There appears to be a curious relationship between Ravenscroft's 104 and the Genevan Psalter's tune for the same psalm. The metre (10.10.11.11) is identical save for two things: (1) That of the Genevan melody is double that of Ravenscroft (10.10.11.11.10.10.11.11), and (2) the internal stresses are quite different. In Ravenscroft's Psalter this text is joined to his tune, as sung by the choral ensemble in Vaughan Williams' Fantasia. Yet it seems that in the Scottish Psalter of 1635 the Genevan melody was used, as indicated here. I personally find it more difficult to sing "My soul, Praise the Lord, speak good of his Name" to the Genevan tune than to Ravenscroft's, which better fits the text. Yet my own assessment was obviously not shared by many Christians in the 17th century.

There is obviously a story to be told about the relationship between these two tunes, but I don't know whether anyone has ever looked into it. It could, I suppose, make up a chapter in someone's dissertation, if there's a graduate student somewhere interested in pursuing the topic.