The Sound of Silence

The work of the Cathedral Docents Corp is largely a silent ministry – to be "a doorkeeper in the house of our God" (Psalm 84:10). Our aim is to hold the Cathedral open each weekday from ten in the morning until four in the afternoon, for any and all who wish to stop by for prayer, for meditation, to light a candle, or simply to view the place and go back into the world with a sense of peace and possibly even exaltation.

Some several Thursdays back, during my regular 2-4 PM slot, that silence was broken for me with an experience that was truly breathtaking. A small funeral was being held in the chapel, but it was decided to keep the Cathedral open to visitors. I met at the door the several who did come in and whispered that they were welcome within the nave but to please keep silence.

It is my practice while docenting to keep the overhead lights off, with nothing lighted but the chancel, the pulpit, and the spots on the Stations of the Cross. To my eye this enhances the glorious wash of color from the stained-glass windows on our typically sunny days. That particular Thursday was cloudy, however, and the interior was dim, with something like the feel of gloomy old European cathedrals.

Near the conclusion of the funeral, when I happened to be the only one in the nave, there was played a truly awesome recording of "Nearer My God To Thee." As the music swelled from the chapel through the dim, empty, acoustically superb nave, I felt myself being totally "transported" in a way that I have seldom experienced.

Afterwards, I learned from the person directing the funeral that the arrangement was by Vocal Point, the Brigham Young University men's a cappella group. As soon as I was back home, I went searching for, and found, a YouTube link. Hearing the piece at home was not the same as that earlier experience of it but was still mightily captivating. The mood ranges from plaintive to hopeful to joyful as the traditional text is sung in a minor key by solo tenor with choral counterpoint from the Latin "In articulo mortis . . ." (at the moment of death).

Over the next several days, as the piece haunted "the backroads of my mind," there came to me the idea of creating a slideshow of the text, using photographs taken during a 2005 trip to the Great Bear Rainforest of British Columbia. After a week or so at that, I was so gratified with the results that I considered it worth the $.99 to buy the Vocal Point track from Amazon.com. Then came the even more tedious task of synchronizing the slides to the music.

I was eventually sufficiently pleased with the final video to email it to a select group of close friends - on All Souls Day. Positive responses were received from all, including one from Chris Harris that suggested I make this posting to the Cathedral blog. I do so, with all due credit for the music to Vocal Point, hoping the video may bring to others something of the thrill I felt on that Thursday in our Cathedral.


Charles Hudgins