HOTC #33: LSB 496, Holy Spirit Light Divine

Stained glass window, Zabrze, Poland

Our (and Lutheran Service Book’s) first Pentecost hymn is a concise, energetic plea for the assistance of the Holy Spirit. Set to the musical output of one of England’s greatest musical minds, this hymn allows us to respond to the story of the arrival of the Holy Spirit by calling upon the Holy Spirit ourselves in an appeal for the very fruits of that Spirit.

The Author

Andrew Reed

Andrew Reed was an English Congregational minister of the late Georgian and early Victorian period. His magnum opus as a hymnwriter, The Hymn Book, was preceded by several attempts at smaller collections including his work, the first of which was his Supplement to Dr. Watts’s Psalms and Hymns, published in 1817, from which the text we consider today arises.

Reed would go on to be the foundational force behind the establishment of several orphans’ homes and received a doctorate from Yale in 1834. He would pass on in 1862.

The Text

This hymn takes the form of a series of petitions to the Holy Spirit. It has been rearranged in various ways from the original in order to create a more-pleasing symmetry in these petitions - indeed, Reed’s original hymn consisted of four stanzas of eight lines each, whereas the present text forms five verses of two lines each.

The first two verses are really one thought stretched into two verses - the petition from the first verse, “Shine upon this heart of mine; / Chase the shaed of night away, / Turn the darkness into day.” is continued with “Let me see the Savior’s face, / Let me all His beauties trace; / Show those glorious truths to me / Which are only known to thee.” So, clearly, the first two verses ask for us to be led to Christ, a thing only the Holy Spirit can do.

The third verse is sort of paraphrase of Psalm 51, where the text asks plaintively that our hearts be cleansed of guilt and sin. This is counterpointed in the next verse with the request that the Holy Spirit, “…joy divine,” would make us cheerful, that we might live a life of peace in the assurance of our salvation in the saving grace of Jesus Christ.

The final verse declares the omnipotence of God the Spirit, “…all divine,” with a final request for Him to dwell in us, and, having purified us and given us a “sure and certain hope of the resurrection” (themes of the previous verses), to “Reign supreme, and reign alone.”

Curiously, this, the first Pentecost hymn in the hymnal, doesn’t mention the actual events of Pentecost at all - there is no mention of fire or wind at all, nor of any of the apostles really any mention of the account from Acts Chapter 2. Instead, this hymn is more of a reaction to that story - the Holy Spirit having been revealed through the re-telling of the events in Acts Chapter 2, we now implore the Holy Spirit, who gave the gift of prophecy to Eldad and Medad and who gave the Apostles tongues with which to preach the good news, to help us by granting us each of the listed petitions.

The Tune

Orlando Gibbons

Orlando Gibbons stands as one of the giants of what was a flourishing English musical tradition in the late Renaissance and early Baroque periods. He was born in 1583 into a very musical family, probably in Oxford, and probably the seventh of nine children. His oldest brother, Edward Gibbons, was a noteworthy composer, and had become master of the Choir of King’s College, Cambridge (the choir that features in the famous carol services at Christmas nowadays). Young Orlando duly joined that choir when he was 12 years old, and was definitely composing music by the time he left King’s in 1599. Who exactly his composition teacher was is shrouded in mystery - obviously his older brother would’ve had a significant influence, however other possibilities include the great William Byrd as well as Gibbons’ friend and contemporary John Bull (who was also a student of Byrd). The three men would later publish music jointly, and form something of a triumvirate over English music at the time, though Gibbons is the least colorful biographically, and the one about whom the least is known with any certinty (Byrd was consistently in court, most notably defending himself from recurring charges of papsitry [which were largely true], and Bull would eventually flee the country under less than auspicious circumstances [see below]).

James VI and I, in his coronation robes (by Paul van Somer, ~1620)

Gibbons drops out of history for the four years after leaving King’s College before joining the Chapel Royal in 1603. James I had recently succeeded Elizabeth I to the English throne, and it is almost certain that Gibbons sang at the coronation that year. Two years later he would become a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal, and the junior chapel organist of that organization; his close friend John Bull was the senior organist. He would remain in this position for the rest of his life.

Gibbons married in 1606, and his compositional career seems to have definitely taken off in the 1610s, possibly beginning with the publication in 1613 of the first-ever collection of English keyboard music. Titled Parthenia, the collection included works by Gibbons and the aforementioned William Byrd and John Bull, and was made in order to celebrate the wedding of King James I’s daughter Elizabeth Stuart to the Elector Frederick V of the Palatinate (the chap who would later kick off the Thirty Years’ War by claiming the Bohemian throne). It is considered likely that Gibbons actually travelled to Heidelberg for a period in the entourage of the newlyweds.

By the second half of the 1610s, Byrd had retired and Bull had gone to the Low Countries (ostensibly to study with Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck, one of the great organists of the time, but in reality Bull was fleeing charges of adultery brought by George Abbot, the Archbishop of Canterbury), leaving Gibbons as the pre-eminent musical figure in the English royal court, if not in England as a whole. While maintaining his position with the Chapel Royal, he also participated as the sole keyboardist in an elite musical ensemble employed by the Prince of Wales, the future Charles I (of later head removal fame).

Some of Gibbons’ most noteworthy compositions spring from this period, including the classic verse-anthem This is the Record of John, written at the request of Archbishop William Laud, as well as his eight-part anthem O Clap Your Hands, possibly written as a qualifying exercise for a doctorate in music from Oxford University, though we cannot be absolutely certain whether the degree was ever awarded.

In 1623, Gibbons achieved perhaps his most prominent position, that of organist at Westminster Abbey. It was around this same time that he was presumably approached by the publisher, poet, and hymnwriter George Withers regarding the possibility of including some of his tunes in a forthcoming collection that Withers was currently working on. Gibbons agreed, and the vast majority of Wither’s publication - entitled Hymnes and Songs of the Church - was in fact Gibbons’ work, musically. It is from this source that the tune we’re considering today arises - it was the thirteenth entry in Hymnes and Songs, and so gained the terribly creative name SONG 13.

Gibbons’ memorial in Canterbury Cathedral

In his capacity as organist at Westminster Abbey, Gibbons would preside over the music for the funeral of his longtime patron, King James I, on May 7, 1625. The court of the new king, Charles I, was shortly to receive the king’s new wife, Henrietta Maria of France, and departed for Canterbury for that purpose on the last day in May. Gibbons died suddenly, en route, at the age of 41, and is buried in the nave of Canterbury Cathedral. His death on June 5 is marked annually by the Choir of King’s College, Cambridge, who sing his music at evensong on that day.

Gibbons has been reckoned by the eminent musicologist and composer Frederick Ouseley as the “English Palestrina,” and while much of English music suffered during the English Civil Wars and the Cromwell regime (including the reducing of nearly all the pipe organs in England into firewood), the influence of Gibbons and his music can be detected in the music of the English Baroque. Indeed, Gibbon’s eldest son, Christopher, would go on to teach a who’s-who of English Baroque composers, including John Blow, Pelham Humfrey, and that pinnacle of English Baroque music: Henry Purcell.

As English music of the time is not given to taking up hymntunes in the way that music of the German Baroque is (German Baroque music is fairly flooded with chorale melodies), the tune was not generally composed upon until the era of modern church music. Examples are given in the list below.


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HOTC #34: LSB 504, Father Most Holy

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HOTC #32: LSB 463, Christ the Lord Is Risen Today; Alleluia