Glimpsing Glory


similar experience for those who were there at the dedication of Solomon's Temple (2 Chronicles), where the splendid ceremony (with 120 trumpets!) was interrupted by the descent of a ‘cloud’, such a palpable sense of God's presence and glory that the priests were unable to carry on with their duties.


It is said that, when Handel heard his Hallelujah Chorus for the first time, deeply moved he declared "I did see all Heaven open before my eyes".


Many years ago, when I first became Director of Music at Bradford Cathedral, the Bishop of Bradford called me in to talk about my role. He said "Your task is to give people splashes of glory" and in the years since, as I have led worship in cathedrals and small country churches, I have never forgotten this injunction.


Recently I conducted a performance of Bach's late masterpiece, the B Minor Mass. The Sanctus (Holy, holy, holy) in that work is overwhelming. Somehow Bach captures in his music what must have been Isaiah's experience as he went into the Temple – caught up in a vision of the majesty and splendour of the Almighty. There must have been a


I did see all Heaven open before my eyes


There seems to be a common thread there: the preparation for worship had been made well. No doubt the music, the readings, the processions had been rehearsed thoroughly, but in the end God's Spirit is sovereign and unpredictable. I have experienced this sense of God's glory in cathedrals on great occasions, but equally in small, remote churches. I recall an ancient Greek Orthodox church in the mountains of Cyprus, where I took my youth choir some years ago. We were sightseeing, but someone suggested that we should sing and we sang a very simple, unaccompanied Orthodox Kyrie eleison. As we made harmony in that austere place many of us, adults and children, were deeply moved by the palpable sense of the holy.


I believe that we musicians, poets and artists have particular responsibilities as we use our gifts in worship. Our songs, poems and images can touch the heart in a way that mere words often cannot. More than that, those who profess to have little or no faith are often moved to tears by the music they sing, whether it be Praise to the holiest in the height from Elgar's Dream of Gerontius or a simple unaccompanied African chant.


Years ago I taught the African song Thuma mina in a remote Lakeland church and an old lady said afterwards that this had been the most moving worship experience of her life. The more we musicians, artists and poets are willing to open ourselves to the mystery and the unpredictability of the Holy Spirit, allowing our imagination to range far and wide, the more effective we shall be as prophets enabling others to glimpse the glory of God.


Geoff Weaver


Freelance musician who conducts and runs courses in this country and abroad. He was a CMS mission partner in Hong Kong and more recently Director of Studies for the Royal School of Church Music.


www. countryway. org. uk 13


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