I was first introduced to the work of Peter Hurford while in my undergraduate studies at The University of Alabama. The organ students were required to read his book, Making Music on the Organ. When I was in my early 20’s, these kinds of books really bored me. I mean, who needs to read about “making music” on the organ, right? It would be much later in life that I realized the value of that book, when I began teaching my own organ students.

When you hear someone play the organ, and your attention is captivated, and the performer makes it look and sound easy – you’re on to something. You’ve found someone who knows what musicality is. The definition of musicality may be hard to articulate in words, but when you hear a musical performer, you know it. You cannot help but to be drawn into their expressiveness and to be deeply moved by the music that you hear. However, there is something to be said for musicians who disguise the effort of making music, making it seem so simple.

The Litany to the Holy Spirit that Lauren, Skyler, and Amanda are singing today at communion is as sweet and supple as simple can get. But don’t be fooled by the beauty of what you hear. Part of the challenge of being a musician is in concealing the effort behind the music. I think this elusive magic of music-making is what Hurford tried to explain in his book. Many methodologies about playing an instrument are mainly technical. They discuss the ins and outs of hand position, fingering and basic technique. Most of those books explain how to play an instrument, and other books try to explain how to interpret music. But what’s unique about Hurford’s book, which I didn’t quite understand in my early years, is that it addresses the difficulties of making the organ sound like a musical instrument. In the wrong hands, the organ can sound like a tractor! It was probably Peter Hurford’s experience that led him to craft such a book, however. He had quite a career as an organist and choral director. His longest-held position was at St. Alban’s Cathedral in Hertfordshire, England. He travelled extensively and had an impressive career as a performer. I think in his method book, he was trying to explain the how-to’s of mastering the art of effortlessness through the illusion of simplicity.

Not only does he try to teach us how to make music on the organ through simple and practical means – he writes that same simplicity into his anthem today. Just listen to how sweet and seemingly simple our communion anthem is, but don’t be fooled – there is a challenge to mastering your craft so well. Concealing music’s difficulty is as elusive as the Holy Spirit itself. When artists “hide” in their music, and they become totally engrossed with the craft itself, the resulting effortlessness is nothing short of divine. That touch of divinity is like a glimpse into heaven, that only can occur through careful effort, diligent study, and a dash of inspiration! In those moments, the performer is not playing the instrument, per se. They are “being played,” and that is what rapturous music-making is all about – it’s letting go of the effort, and turning it over the power of the spirit. The total fusion of mind, body, and soul into musical expression can catapult you into the rafters, when it happens. But it takes a lifetime of experience and laborious effort. But the effort of building in effortlessness to the music-making processes is so very worth it. When it all comes together, it’s like a foretaste of heaven. And I think that getting a “simple” taste of heaven, every once in a while, is worth all the effort in the world. Soli deo Gloria!