Psalm 32:7
Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance.
I am not a musician, but I love music. I have the good fortune to be married to a magnificent musician. She has made music an inextricable part of our home and a constant in our life. Furthermore, it has been my experience in Church administration that nothing brings the Spirit of the Lord to a meeting more powerfully than good music, “songs of deliverance,” if you will. One of the early pieces of advice I had as a General Authority was that “we ought to have great music in the Church and more of it, coupled with great speaking in the Church and less of it.”
Music has not only the charm “to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak,”91 but it has also the power to edify and exalt the spirit that is already elevated. Indeed, I think we could postulate that the more refined the spirit is, the greater impact good music has on it. And when we are in difficulty, nothing can quite touch our heart like a melody that seems to have been sent directly from heaven. It has been said—and I personally believe it is true—that in the compendium of sacred expression in the Church, the hymns of Zion take their rightful place following the scriptures and the teachings of the living prophets. Whether it is the grandeur of a marvelous Tabernacle Choir performance or the heartfelt musical testimony from a frightened soloist in the most distant unit of the Church, the “songs of deliverance” have always been an encouragement to the troubled, a comfort to those who are burdened. It should not surprise us that when both trouble and burdens faced our pioneer ancestors, they sang, “Gird up your loins, fresh courage take. Our God will never us forsake; and soon we’ll have this tale to tell—all is well! All is well!”92 We thank the Lord for good music of every kind—from folk ballads to Bach and Beethoven to the hymns of Zion. We rejoice in melody, in harmony, in orchestrated eloquence that “songs of deliverance” employ in speaking to the soul.
Apparently the Savior of the world understood the great blessing of music as well, for in His hour of eternal “deliverance,” He introduced the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, sang a hymn with His brethren, and moved resolutely toward the sorrow of Gethsemane and the pain of Calvary.93 We would all like to believe that singing that hymn provided additional strength for this most troubling moment in human history. Uplifting music can do the same for us in our times of need.
Notes
^91. William Congreve, The Mourning Bride, act 1, scene 1, lines 1–2.