Skip to main content

Fifth Rate Poetry Set to Sixth Rate Music


In the view of my rantings last week about hymns that I hate, I paid close attention when I read another blogger referring to C.S. Lewis' famous quote about certain hymns being "fifth rate poetry set to sixth rate music." And that was before the "modern worship" explosion of the 1980s and the industry that produces the poppy praise pap of today.
But reading the quote sent me scurrying back to find the context for it... his book of semi-catechetical essays entitled "God in the Dock", where he writes of his experience in gospel halls shortly after his conversion, a salutory lesson to any social, spiritual or aesthetic snobs (not that I would fit into any such category):

"I disliked very much their hymns, which I considered fifth rate poetry set to sixth rate music. But as I went on I saw the great merit of it. I came up against different people of quite different outlooks and different education, and then gradually my conceit just began peeling off. I realized that the hymns (which were just sixth rate music) were, nevertheless, being sung with devotion and benefit by an old saint in elastic side boots in the opposite pew, and then you realize that you aren't fit to clean those boots."

The issue isn't the quality of the hymns (and anyway, who am I to judge whether the tunes and poetry are first, second, third or thirtieth rate... I'm musically incompetent and you've read my poetry), but the heart of the hymn-singer.

But it still won't stop me having a go at carols that I hate later in the week!

Comments

ScatterCode said…
NO! I'm planning a post on Carols We Hate this week!!! Aaargh!!!

Excellent post, though; CS Lewis always nails it...
Oh I am sure there are plenty to go round!!
Anonymous said…
I used to think many recent worship songs were more like fifth-form poetry set to sixth-forum music but realised maybe this would be harsh on GCSE students!

Popular posts from this blog

A Woman of no Distinction

Don't often post other people's stuff here... But I found this so powerful that I thought I should. It's a performance poem based on John 4: 4-30, and I have attached the original YouTube video below. A word for women, and men, everywhere... "to be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known." I am a woman of no distinction of little importance. I am a women of no reputation save that which is bad. You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances, Though you don’t really take the time to look at me, Or even get to know me. For to be known is to be loved, And to be loved is to be known. Otherwise what’s the point in doing either one of them in the first place? I WANT TO BE KNOWN. I want someone to look at my face And not just see two eyes, a nose, a mouth and two ears; But to see all that I am, and could be all my hopes, loves and fears. But that’s too much to hope for, to wish for, or pray for So I don’t, not anymore. Now I keep to myself And by that

Psalm for Harvest Sunday

A short responsive psalm for us as a call to worship on Harvest Thanksgiving Sunday, and given that it was pouring with rain as I headed into church this morning the first line is an important remembrance that the rain we moan about is an important component of the fruitfulness of the land we live in: You tend the land and water it And the earth produces its abundance. You crown each year with your bounty, and our storehouses overflow with your goodness. The mountain meadows are covered with flocks and the valleys are filled with corn; Your people celebrate your boundless grace They shout for joy and sing. from Psalm 65

Anointed

There has been a lot of chatter on social media among some of my colleagues and others about the liturgical and socio-political niceties of Saturday's coronation and attendant festivities, especially the shielding of the anointing with the pictured spoon - the oldest and perhaps strangest of the coronation artefacts. Personally I thought that was at least an improvement on the cloth of gold canopy used in the previous coronation, but (pointless) debates are raging as to whether this is an ancient practice or was simply introduced in the previous service to shield the Queen from the TV cameras, not for purposes of sacredness, but understandable coyness, if she actually had to bare her breast bone in puritan 1950s Britain. But as any church leader knows, anything performed twice in a church becomes a tradition. All this goes to show that I did actually watch it, while doing other things - the whole shooting match from the pre-service concert with yer wumman in that lemon-