June 14, 2009

Glynn Cardy

Homily for the Haydn Mass

Kurt Vonnegut once said, “The only proof I need for the existence of God is music.”

Music does something to our spirit. It has the capacity to calm us, excite us, move us, and take us out of our thinking and into our feelings… It has the capacity to stimulate the imagination, and thus to bring change and hope into the world. Music is the natural language of spirituality.

The adaptation of John 1:1 used in our liturgy today, ‘In the beginning was the music, and the music was with God’, invites us to think deeply about our theological origins. In this verse the usual translation of the Greek logos is ‘word’ rather than ‘music’. ‘Word’ however is a limited translation.

Logos was neither an utterance of speech nor a jotting of a scribe. It was rather the Greek concept of a living divine spark merged with the Hebrew concept of wisdom [Sophia]. The writer of John’s Gospel understood this divine wisdom to be uniquely manifested in Jesus. The 16th century reformers unfortunately took the translation of logos as ‘Word’ literally to mean the writing in the Bible, and came to revere the written text. The sense of a living Jesus wisdom got lost in translation.

My use of the word ‘music’ is an attempt to reclaim that living wisdom tradition. It appeals to the senses, to our imagination, to wonder and awe rather than intellectual analysis, moral laws, and theological systems. This is what is meant in the prayer:

There is a music beyond all things on earth, beyond us all, beyond the heavens, beyond the highest heavens. This is the music that plays in our hearts. O God, open our ears that we might hear what lies in our hearts.

Franz Joseph Haydn, whom we remember today 200 years after his death, was one whose heart, and God, and music were closely aligned. One catches glimpses of this alignment not just in his beautiful compositions and amazing creativity music, but also in the way he related to others and in his humour.

Haydn was born in 1732 in a tiny Austrian village. Until he was six, his musical background consisted of folk songs and peasant dances but then his eager response to music was recognized and he was given training [as well as lots of floggings and little food!]. At eight, he went to Vienna to serve as a choirboy in the Cathedral of St. Stephen. When his voice changed, Haydn was dismissed, penniless. Like many musicians Haydn knew hardship.

He found lodging with a friend, gave music lessons to children, struggled to teach himself composition, and took odd jobs including playing violin in street bands – even the best busk! Gradually though aristocratic patrons of music began to notice his talent; and in 1761, he entered the service of the Esterhazys, the richest and most powerful of the Hungarian noble families. For nearly thirty years, most of his music was composed for performances in the palaces of the family.

As a highly skilled servant, Hayden was to compose all the music requested by his patron, conduct the orchestra, coach singers, and oversee the instruments and the music library. This entailed a staggering amount of work; there were usually two concerts and two opera performances weekly, as well as daily chamber music. While in the employ of the Esterhazys, Haydn composed eleven operas, sixty symphonies, five masses, thirty sonatas, one concerto, and hundreds of shorter pieces.

Haydn's positive attitude and sense of humor made him a favourite among musicians. Music students valued his knowledge and skill and considered it an honour to learn from him. One such musician was Mozart. Although Mozart was much younger than Haydn, the two men treated each other with a mutual respect reserved for the obviously gifted. Haydn made and kept many friends, generously gave of his time to others, and avoided the negativity that competitive relationships usually produce.

Haydn's sense of humour often came into play during his thirty-year tenure with Prince Esterhazy. The prince had become complacent when listening to Haydn's symphonies, even falling asleep during them. This was something that seared the feelings of the diligent composer, especially when the prince emitted a loud snore. Haydn decided to create a new symphony for the prince, a symphony that he hoped would "get Prince Esterhazy's attention." This particular symphony was written with a long slow movement, designed to be so soothing that the prince would surely fall asleep. On the evening of the performance, the prince did indeed drift off. Then, suddenly, a loud chord shattered the serenity of the murmuring movement. The prince awoke with a start and almost fell off his chair! Haydn adeptly gave the piece the name "Surprise Symphony."

In time Haydn’s musical fame spread and his music became immensely popular all over Europe. In 1791-1792 and again in 1794-1795, Haydn traveled to London and was wined and dined by the aristocracy, given an honorary doctorate at Oxford, and received by the royal family.

At this time, in his late sixties, he composed six masses and two oratorios, The Creation (1798) and The Seasons (1801), which were so popular that choruses and orchestras were formed for the sole purpose of performing them. He died in 1809, at seventy-seven.

Franz Joseph Haydn was a brilliantly gifted and versatile musician. He enjoyed great music, encouraged good friends, and had an impish sense of humour. These are signs of someone whose music, heart, and God are aligned. These are signs of a delightful spirituality, which in turn is reflected in his music.