Faire is the Heaven
The second sermon in a series on communion motets.
Faire is the heaven“One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple.” Ps 27:4
Edmund Spenser (1552-99)
William Henry Harris (1883-1973)
Faire is the heaven where happy soules have place
In full enjoyment of felicitie;
Whence they do still behold the glorious face
Of the Divine, Eternall Majestie;
Yet farre more faire be those bright Cherubins
Which all with golden wings are overdight.
And those eternall burning Seraphins
Which from their faces dart out fiery light;
Yet fairer than they both and much more bright
Be the Angels and Archangels
Which attend on God's owne person without rest or end.
These then in faire each other farre excelling
As to the Highest they approach more neare,
Yet is that Highest farre beyond all telling
Fairer than all the rest which there appeare
Though all their beauties joynd together were;
How then can mortal tongue hope to expresse
The image of such endlesse perfectnesse?
I’m glad I’m old enough now to be a grumpy old man – I miss buses you can jump on and off; you can’t get fish and chips in newspaper anymore; there’s no snow at Christmas; kids are too noisy; and worst of all, worst of all – when you ring a company you don’t talk to a real person anymore!
It’s that annoying electronic lady, who gives us a menu of buttons to push for services which are not quite what we want. And we know that our conversation may be recorded for training purposes. And we know that after we have push-buttoned our way through several layers of menus, we will eventually hear that, our call is very important to them, but all their operators are currently busy and we will be held in a queue.
And we will listen to Eine kleine Nacht music played on a Woolworths music centre or worse, the Spice Girls. And if we’re lucky enough not to be cut off after 30 minutes then we’ll probably end up back at the original menu again.
Which brings us on to Dionysius the Pseudo-Areopagite. These were writings, probably from the early 6th century, which claimed to have originated with the first century Christian bishop, Dionysius of Athens. (Acts 17.34)
It’s a mystical strand of theology which, in one aspect, resembles our infuriating telephone exchange. You never get straight through to God.
God is mediated to humanity through three orders of Angelic beings, each divided into three choirs. So from the top, next to God, we have Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones; then Dominations, Virtues and Powers; and finally Principalities, Archangels and Angels - and only these last two, Archangels and Angels, have a direct mission to men and women.
This sort of neo-Platonic theology had great influence in the Western church, but after the Reformation by the late 16th century, it began to lose its unspoken authority. This is the era of Edmund Spenser who wrote the words of our offertory motet, Faire is the heaven, towards the end of his life in 1596. This is the era of Richard Hooker, one of the first great Anglican theologians. It is the era of a Reformed Protestant Catholicism.
Spenser is most famously remembered for his epic work, The Faerie Queene, his great allegory of the Virgin Queen Elizabeth who ruled from when he was six until after his death. He’s buried here in Westminster Abbey.
Spenser’s Hymnes of Heavenly Love and Heavenly Beautie are a poetic reflection on what was happening in theology at this time. Heavenly Love begins in the Divine Trinity and moves toward creation, embracing humanity and drawing them into the motionless motion of the everloving Trinity.
The contemplation of Heavenly Beautie starts from the opposite end of the cosmos and through stages takes us from the earthly realm, through the heavenly spheres to arrive at the very Godhead. It is from this work, An Hymne of Heavenly Beautie, that William Harris selected these words for his motet.
Now Spenser seems deliberately to have reversed the Dionysian order of the Angelic choirs. This can be no accident, or a lapse of memory.
The Seraphim and Cherubim are furthest from God, and ‘fairer than they both and much more bright’ are the Angels and Archangels, ‘Which attend on God’s own person without rest or end.’ This was an outrageous thought to a church schooled in Dionysian thinking.
Later on in the poem (beyond the words that will be sung today) we see the thinking behind this reversal.
You see, Spenser was also deeply influenced by the Reformation rediscovery of Augustine’s theology. It is by grace that we are saved. We have immediate access to God through the mediation of Christ alone. Immediate means ‘nothing in the middle’.
Further on in the poem Spenser writes that we must
lowly fall before his mercie seate,
Close covered with the Lambes integrity
It is the Lamb who was slain, it is Christ who allows us to approach the beauty and perfection of God.
This motet expounds that great biblical truth of our faith: all may approach God through the finished work of Christ.
It is not for those who discover hidden knowledge and mystical ways. It is not for those who persevere up rungs of the celestial ladder of powers. It is not for the top of the hierarchy of Cherubim and Seraphim, of aristocracy or intelligentsia, of clerics or prelates.
It is a direct spiritual transaction: Emmanuel, God with us. This is reflected in today’s communion motet, Wherever you go.
But of course there is much more to a poem than a theological treatise, or an exposition of doctrine.
And this is why William Harris picked up these words for his motet.
Harris was born in 1883 and studied at the Royal College of Music, where he later became a professor. He was organist of New College, Oxford, Christ Church Cathedral and St. George's Chapel, Windsor, where he gave piano lessons to the young princesses, Elizabeth and Margaret.
He composed this in 1925, recovering from the horrors of the First World War and nostalgically musing on his privileged Edwardian boyhood, surrounded by beauty and optimism. The motet is full of yearning, for lost innocence and the beauty of youth; for the release of death and the ascent to Beauty beyond compare - ‘that Highest’... ‘endless perfectness’.
And here we see that Augustinian immediacy does not completely negate Dionysian hierarchy, because there is a hierarchy of longing; of longing for God. The Christian soul who seeks the Beloved, is drawn ever higher and nearer to the Cloud of Unknowing, to Dionysius’ ‘dark ray’.
Spenser wrote at great length on human beauty and love, but this was as a prelude to that consummation of beauty and love found in Christ and echoed in these words.
Harris’s setting, for double choir - perhaps reflecting the choirs of Angels & Archangels - is deliberately romantic and evocative, drawing us into the very presence of God.
It does what music and poetry is supposed to do in Christian worship: it gives voice to what is inexpressible. It takes us far beyond the rational arguments about the existence of God or the nature of the incarnation. It resonates with that deeply implanted image of God within every human being.
All sorts of music and poetry are able to rekindle our longings for God. They express our immortal longings for him who is Love, who is Beauty, whereof one cannot speak thereof one must be silent. (Wittgenstein)
Let all the music and words this morning remind you of your deepest longings for God, and as you eat bread and drink wine, let his love enfold you in the embrace of Christ.
No wonder King David was glad to go to the temple and to linger in the presence of God:
“One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple.” Ps 27:4
