And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding,
will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
– Philippians 4:7
will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
– Philippians 4:7
In his 2024 book, Time’s Echo: Music, Memory, and the Second World War Jeremy Eichler “summons the remarkable lives of four composers [Richard Strauss, Arnold Schoenberg, Dmitri Shostakovich, and Benjamin Britten] central to the repertoire of mainstream classical music and follows their paths through the darkness at the heart of the twentieth century” (p. 13). Eichler’s book is excellent summer reading, especially his narrative on Britten’s War Requiem (1962), its premiere for the restoration of Coventry Cathedral, and all that Britten’s masterwork has come to symbolize in the quest for freedom. Inspired by Eichler’s book and in recognition of the eightieth anniversary of the end of World War 2, please join me in considering three hymns which were sung during three major wars for the United States.
World War 1: ‘Silent Night’
This beloved carol hails from a well-known collaboration between Joseph Mohr (1792–1848) and Franz Gruber (1787–1863) for Christmas services (1818) in Oberndorf, Austria. As documented in the book, Silent Night, Holy Night, Mohr gave the six-stanza poem to Gruber and requested that he set it to music. It was sung that very night, Christmas Eve, with Mohr on the upper voice and Gruber on the lower part. Mohr accompanied on the guitar since the organ was out of commission. The choir echoed the final phrase at the conclusion of each stanza.
“Silent Night” found a place among soldiers on both sides of the conflict during World War 1, starting with a remarkable Christmas Eve event, depicted in the musical, “All is Calm: The Christmas Truce of 1914.” Here German and English soldiers on the Western Front laid down their arms, sang carols, and even played some football. How profound to think that soldiers briefly traded ammunition for hymnals, rifles for footballs, and the drums of war for a hymn of peace! Similar rituals followed throughout the Great War, following the precedent set on the first Christmas of World War 1.
The word “silent” and the phrase “all is calm” must have resonated powerfully with all who were on the front lines. Silence and calm are rare in the fog of war and offered a much-needed respite as they laid aside their arms to “sleep in heav’nly peace”—the peace that passes all understanding in Christ. The following arrangement by contemporary composer Dan Forrest captures the essence of this hymn, as performed here by the Pacific Chorale under the capable direction of Rod Istad.
“Silent Night” found a place among soldiers on both sides of the conflict during World War 1, starting with a remarkable Christmas Eve event, depicted in the musical, “All is Calm: The Christmas Truce of 1914.” Here German and English soldiers on the Western Front laid down their arms, sang carols, and even played some football. How profound to think that soldiers briefly traded ammunition for hymnals, rifles for footballs, and the drums of war for a hymn of peace! Similar rituals followed throughout the Great War, following the precedent set on the first Christmas of World War 1.
The word “silent” and the phrase “all is calm” must have resonated powerfully with all who were on the front lines. Silence and calm are rare in the fog of war and offered a much-needed respite as they laid aside their arms to “sleep in heav’nly peace”—the peace that passes all understanding in Christ. The following arrangement by contemporary composer Dan Forrest captures the essence of this hymn, as performed here by the Pacific Chorale under the capable direction of Rod Istad.
World War 2: ‘Now Thank We All Our God’
This “German Te Deum” hails from Martin Rinckart (1586–1649), with a stately tune by Johann Crüger (1598–1662). It was originally written as a mealtime prayer, based on Ecclesiasticus (the Wisdom of Jesus) 50:22–24, which begins, “And now bless the God of all, who in every way does great things” and ends with the words, “And let [God] deliver us in our days.” Unlike “Silent Night,” “Now Thank We All Our God” was born in the crucible of war, for Rinckart’s pastoral tenure in Eilenburg (1617–1649) coincided with the Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648). The thousands of deaths in Eilenburg included all but three members of the city council, many schoolchildren, a few fellow clergy, and even Rinckart’s wife. In 1637 he officiated for over 1,000 funerals, but his motto remained, “My trust is in Christ alone” (Lutheran Service Book Companion to the Hymns, 1:1418). As this hymn demonstrates, his unwavering trust was in the God who will “guide us when perplexed / And free us from all ills / In this world and the next” (LSB 895.2).
Rinckart’s hymn was sung during World War 2 for the liberation of allied countries from Germany and the horrors of the Third Reich. Here one must pause and consider the transcultural nature of church music. When Poland was liberated from German armies, for instance, those who sang this hymn did not pause to consider its German origins. (This may state the obvious, but I have seen many rehearsals stopped while the cultural revolutionaries tried to update sacred texts by adjusting pronouns or removing the name “Jesus.”) The confluence of transcultural music with transcendent truth, beauty, and goodness is evident in this and every good hymn, allowing the faithful in every time and place to praise “this bounteous God” who comes “with blessed peace to cheer us” (LSB 895.2), even should war rage around us. It seems fitting to hear it sung from Westminster Cathedral by our truest ally, Great Britain.
Rinckart’s hymn was sung during World War 2 for the liberation of allied countries from Germany and the horrors of the Third Reich. Here one must pause and consider the transcultural nature of church music. When Poland was liberated from German armies, for instance, those who sang this hymn did not pause to consider its German origins. (This may state the obvious, but I have seen many rehearsals stopped while the cultural revolutionaries tried to update sacred texts by adjusting pronouns or removing the name “Jesus.”) The confluence of transcultural music with transcendent truth, beauty, and goodness is evident in this and every good hymn, allowing the faithful in every time and place to praise “this bounteous God” who comes “with blessed peace to cheer us” (LSB 895.2), even should war rage around us. It seems fitting to hear it sung from Westminster Cathedral by our truest ally, Great Britain.
The Global War on Terror: ‘O God, Our Help in Ages Past’
Isaac Watts (1674–1748) based this hymn on Psalm 90:1–4, the only Psalm attributed to Moses. Here Moses prays to the God who is “from everlasting to everlasting,” beckoning man to number his days under the Law (v. 12), but also to take refuge in the God who will satisfy His people with steadfast love (v. 14), glorious power (v. 16), and everlasting favor (v. 17). Isaac Watts wrote this Psalm paraphrase during England’s Glorious Revolution (1688) and headed the text “Man Frail and God Eternal,” a solemn reminder that kings and governments come and go, but the Lord is God from everlasting to everlasting (The Handbook to the Lutheran Hymnal, p. 98). The hymn is sung in the United Kingdom at times of national crisis and on Remembrance Day (November 11), the equivalent of America’s Memorial Day. It is appointed in Lutheran Service Book as the Hymn of the Day for national and local tragedies.
It is no surprise, then, that this hymn has been sung at post-9/11 memorials and commemorations. I served a congregation in Queens, New York (2002–2015) and had the privilege of leading several 9/11 memorial services. This hymn was a staple for obvious reasons. In the midst of the Global War on Terror, how comforting to sing that the saints have dwelt securely under God’s throne (LSB 733.1), and that the Lord will “Be . . . our guard while troubles last” (LSB 733.6). Perhaps above all, in the wake of two towers collapsing out of the New York City skyline, the Lord remained “our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home” (LSB 733.1).
Composer Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872–1958) took a break from composing to serve in the Medical Corps from 1914 until 1918, even though at age forty-two he could have been excused from military service (see James Day, Vaughan Williams, pp. 40-41). The concepts of war and peace permeated many of his compositions for the rest of his life, including an entire cantata, Dona Nobis Pacem (“Grant Us Peace”). “Lord, Thou Hast Been Our Refuge” combines the entirety of Psalm 90 with “O God, Our Help in Ages Past.” Written for two choirs, organ, and trumpet, it must be counted among the very best of English cathedral works of the twentieth century. It opens with a simple unison plea, builds to a massive tutti, until the dam finally breaks and the majesty of God sweeps over the hearers, with the trumpet sounding the final summons to eternal life. When the last echo fades from the massive vault of the Chapel of King’s College Cambridge, the sense of homecoming is unmistakable.
It is no surprise, then, that this hymn has been sung at post-9/11 memorials and commemorations. I served a congregation in Queens, New York (2002–2015) and had the privilege of leading several 9/11 memorial services. This hymn was a staple for obvious reasons. In the midst of the Global War on Terror, how comforting to sing that the saints have dwelt securely under God’s throne (LSB 733.1), and that the Lord will “Be . . . our guard while troubles last” (LSB 733.6). Perhaps above all, in the wake of two towers collapsing out of the New York City skyline, the Lord remained “our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home” (LSB 733.1).
Composer Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872–1958) took a break from composing to serve in the Medical Corps from 1914 until 1918, even though at age forty-two he could have been excused from military service (see James Day, Vaughan Williams, pp. 40-41). The concepts of war and peace permeated many of his compositions for the rest of his life, including an entire cantata, Dona Nobis Pacem (“Grant Us Peace”). “Lord, Thou Hast Been Our Refuge” combines the entirety of Psalm 90 with “O God, Our Help in Ages Past.” Written for two choirs, organ, and trumpet, it must be counted among the very best of English cathedral works of the twentieth century. It opens with a simple unison plea, builds to a massive tutti, until the dam finally breaks and the majesty of God sweeps over the hearers, with the trumpet sounding the final summons to eternal life. When the last echo fades from the massive vault of the Chapel of King’s College Cambridge, the sense of homecoming is unmistakable.
My friend and colleague at this website, Bryan Wolfmueller, offers a helpful analogy for the peace that passes all understanding. Building on the verse quoted as the header to this article, Wolfmueller invites us to picture peace as the sentry who watches over you at all times. Suppose, for a moment, that you hear footsteps outside your residence one night and ask your spouse, “Who is out there?” And your spouse replies, “Oh, that’s Peace; he’s guarding our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord.” Amen to that! And He never abandons His post.
The peace we pray for in all three of these hymns, then, is not the absence of conflict in the world, but the presence and peace of Christ amidst the bedlam of the fray. Perhaps the following hymn stanza, written during the Thirty Years’ War, puts it best:
The peace we pray for in all three of these hymns, then, is not the absence of conflict in the world, but the presence and peace of Christ amidst the bedlam of the fray. Perhaps the following hymn stanza, written during the Thirty Years’ War, puts it best:
| | Peace in our hearts, our evil thoughts assuaging; Peace in Thy Church where brothers are engaging; Peace when the world its busy war is waging. Calm Thy foes’ raging. – The Lutheran Hymnal 258.4 |
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