Let All Mortal Flesh is a translation of a Greek, Eucharistic hymn, based on words from Habakkuk 2:20, “Let all the earth keep silence before him.” This is one of my favorite anthems, an arrangement of this hymn by the English composer, Gustav Holst. Holst’s rise to popularity came from his famous orchestral suite, The Planets (written from 1914–1917).  He wrote a fair amount of choral music too, but he wasn’t as widely known for that.

The tune for the hymn is called Picardy. You may notice that it’s in a minor key (darker sounding harmony). Picardy is a province of France, and the tune itself dates back at least to the 17th century. The first verse is underpinned by haunting, long notes played in the organ part. Long notes like that are known as pedal tones, although not always played in the pedal. The hollow-sounding first verse conjures up mystic imagery and is followed by a more active second verse, set for the tenors and basses. The third verse begins with a higher tessitura (vocal range), and then returns to the more traditional 4-part setting towards the later part of the verse where the organ part sneaks back in after a short break. Holst again returns to using pedal tones in the 4^th verse, but this time actually uses them in the pedal. The turnaround point of the piece comes in the statements of the “Alleluias.” This is where the anthem really begins to take flight. If you listen carefully as the choir concludes the last verse, the writing on the word “High” is up in the stratosphere, highlighting the literal meaning of that word. The organ part gets more active too, and we hear broken, major chords in the accompaniment, almost as if they are mimicking the rumbling of church bells. The rather quick and declamatory amens are punctuated with the dramatic, final E Major chord in the organ part.

What’s interesting is that Holst chooses to end a minor piece (dark and somber sounding harmony) with a major chord (a brighter sounding harmony). This technique in music theory is called the Picardy Third. Perhaps the Picardy Third originated in the same, French region as the tune of this hymn did, Picardy. Nonetheless, the ingredients of drama all come together in this culminating experience.

The piece starts out as a shimmer, a glowing lull that slowly comes to life, morphing into a profound cry of joy. In other words, it transforms from the ordinary to the profound. The trembling and fear transform into ecstasy, at the end. That’s a profound story of life, isn’t it? It runs the emotional gamut, and it reminds us of God’s most powerful presence in our lives. God is almighty, our fear and trembling doesn’t change that fact. But the music helps us make sense of that unexplainable mystery of God within us. The meaning of God’s omniscience and wonder are all incorporated into the way that the piece unfolds. I think Holst did a good job of helping us experience transcendence – the movement from darkness to light, the journey towards the profundity of God in music. Let it take you on a journey of transformation this morning, and see if it doesn’t draw you nearer to the movement of God’s mysterious presence in your own life.  Soli deo Gloria!