Singing Mennonites

by Alice Parker

I will never forget my first arrival at Laurelville Mennonite Church Center for Family Music Week in July 1961. In the dining hall, after a brief grace, one voice began, without announcement, a familiar hymn. On the second note, the entire room joined in the most beautiful four-part hymn singing I had ever heard. I hear it in my mind's ear to this day. It gave me a vision of what hymn singing must have been in days past, and could be again in days to come. 

How could the singing of a group of people in the mountains of western Pennsylvania strike my ear so memorably? I think I had subconsciously assumed that there was an unbridgeable gap between what amateur singers could do (particularly church congregations) and the sound of highly trained, professional choruses. It had never occurred to me that a tradition of unaccompanied singing, along with a natural, free vocal production and a love for and understanding of the text, could add up to the kind of sound I was then hearing.

A rich sound. My first impression was confirmed in the next years, as I came to know several Mennonite congregations and was always rewarded with this same, rich sound. Of what was it composed?

1. A true function: the voices supplied all the music for worship. Each voice was needed and appreciated, young and old joining together. The congregation was literally united, bound together, in singing which expressed their deepest beliefs.
2. The strength of the tradition, in which a child grew up in the midst of part-singing. The parents taught melodies and harmonies, as well as words and beliefs, as they sang at home and in church.
3. The quality of the ensemble singing: the listening which made beginnings and endings come exactly together, the text clear and expressive, and the pitches well-tuned and in balance.
4. The frequent appearance of duets, trios, and quartets singing hymns as "special music," affording opportunities for individuals to practice carrying a voice part alone.
5. The frequent use of song leaders who, in addition to announcing and starting the hymns, provided visual and audible examples of adults who loved to sing. This also gave valuable lessons in conducting to anyone who tried it.

But first was the sound! I had read about and heard groups of shape-note singers who sounded authentically primitive: raw, even ugly voices, bursting with energy. How could these singers. sound so different? It had to be the result of unbroken tradition, sustained by truly musical leaders in each generation. Good singing begets good singing when the chain is not broken. 

Another indelible Laurelville memory pictures an evening worship time. A quartet was singing. with a beautiful blend of voices. The stairs to the balcony were crowded with children, faces intent on the singers, caught in the mood which embraced us all. They must have been thinking, "When I grow up, I'm going to sing like that " 

Consider for a moment what happens when the chain is broken. The introduction of a piano or organ divides the responsibility for the sound between the voices and the instrument, lessening the need for total congregational involvement. Keyboard instruments are not good models for singing: they produce sound very differently, not accounting for words, or breathing, or the subtle turns of phrasing natural to voices. When parents stop singing, the children don't start. When the song leader disappears, the model is gone. When a group gets used to "following" a piano or organ, the ensemble skills disappear: listening to each other is no longer important. And when choirs and soloists drain the good voices from the congregation, it cannot find its own voice--the sound the united church makes from all its people.

Beauty and belief. The scenario above is found all over the country. Our popular culture breeds a passive audience, demanding to be entertained, preferably by "professionals," in songs which reflect the lowest common denominator of words and music. Mennonites have never been noted for accepting the popular culture: knowing their own history, believing that they are a people "set apart," they have succeeded in preserving many values which the rest of the world seems to have lost. The hymn-singing congregation which combines beauty with belief is part of that heritage. That sound at Laurelville changed the direction of my life. How many others still have a chance to hear it? Those singers rejoiced daily in the fact that God gave us ears, voices, and the gift of music. May they long continue to return a worthy offering in song which opens every heart and unites every voice in prayer and praise.

Alice Parker, New York, NY, is a composer and conductor who has composed four major choral works based on Mennonite themes. She is a member of Riverside Church.

GOSPEL HERALD