Today’s offertory might be considered obscure because it’s by Eccard Johannes, a composer unfamiliar to your typical musician. He wrote a significant amount of music and studied with a well-known composer, Orlando Lassus, but nobody’s ever heard of him. He may be a one hit wonder, and you’re hearing his legacy.

This piece comes from an era called The Renaissance, a French word meaning “rebirth.” During this period (ca. 1500’s -1700’s), there was an explosion of creative prowess – art, literature, drama, sculpture, etc. It was preceded by The Dark and Middle Ages, a tumultuous time wrought with war and pestilence. The Renaissance was an awakening and sacred choral music was at a peak. It multi-layered, a cappella, and a complexification of aural bliss; yet controlled and eloquent. If heaven had muzak in the elevators, this is what you’d hear. Although seemingly busy, this genre has an underlying stillness, a straightforward message that whispers, “Holy.”  

One of the main challenges of writing tiered music like this was to not obscure the text with too much polyphony, musical lines seemingly moving independently from one another. Secondly, it was to ensure that the lines didn’t contain too much dissonance – notes that clash between individual parts. These musical kerfuffles pass quickly, however. It’s a delicate balance of tension and release, controlled in a precision that can elude your average listener.

The main objective is to be able to complexify the music but not obliterate the text. The main purpose was meaning. If the complexification was too busy, one would never be able to discern the message. So, the challenge of the composer was to have artistic, creative license to complexify, but to always “paint” the meaning, clearly. If the message were obscured by too much “busyness,” church officials crinkled their brows.

An Italian composer called Palestrina convinced church officials that complex, a cappella choral music could be written and still convey textual meaning. This style of writing is what you are hearing today. At one level, it could seem cacophonous, but if you listen carefully, every word is audible, even if the musical lines seem complex. The message is clear. Below the surface complexity is a profundity of union and substance.

The world seems complex, surface-wise. But there’s an underlying peace, if only you could sense it. When Simeon picked up the Christ Child, one look into the eyes of God and he saw salvation. He saw all the moving parts (the microcosm) and the wholeness (the macrocosm) work in that instance, and he departed in peace. The secret to singing music like this is to listen carefully to all 6 parts – look, listen, deeply. Choristers are notorious for getting buried in their own part, being selfish and indulgent, not listening to nor being aware of the composite equanimity. They love the sound of their own voices.  

In life, we’re too focused on “our part.” We don’t hear the underlying symphonic holiness below the surface, connected to the Eyes of God. If your life is too busy, you’re not connected. You’re buried in “your life.” When sensed as a whole, Life is holy. The moving parts fit together. Oh, that we could hear the composite, heavenly muzak in the elevators of higher awareness. Look deeply. Listen profoundly. Soli Deo Gloria!