April, as one of our own poets has said, is the cruellest month. Much earlier Chaucer and Langland were more cheerful. Another poet makes this the best time to talk about repeats - of which there are many sorts from 'O come, all ye faithful' (not for April) to the Hallelujah chorus, Taize and beyond. All I mean here is singing something twice.
This Sunday it was not the song slot, chorus time, or the space for some really deep worship. This was in the main flow of the service. The minister said 'As the hymn has only got two verses, we'll sing it twice'. Subdued murmur along the fifth row: 'Good job it's not God save the Queen.'
The murmurer implied a question. If the writer wanted four verses, why didn't she write them? There is a place for short hymns and she had admirably filled it. Until today, when it became medium-length. Sometimes long hymns become short, when 'Let's sing the first and last verses of number 146'. Even worse when we discover that's 'I'll praise my Maker while I've breath'; you can see why. But this is not my concern.
Repeats used to have reasons. Change of volume, mood, speed, posture, personnel, or room for a brief comment. Most of us can see the point; sometimes, to let some special lines sink in. But if everything has to be repeated, all that flies out of the chapel window. Second hearings which used to enhance the meaning now water it down. The effect now is not on taking in the words, but being stirred, roused, massaged, or hypnotised by the music. Or giving the music group a chance to show off?
Repeats in the text
This process is even odder when writers have built repeats into their texts already. 'Let all the world in every corner sing', 'Let us with a gladsome mind', 'Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me', 'I will enter his gates'. Many Psalms use the same device: 8, 19, 29, 96, 118, 150. The extreme case, 136, repeats its God-centred refrain as a counterpoint to an ever-advancing narrative.
And when a line is repeated, it may not be just to fill a gap or fit the tune but because it needs repeating. If the worship leader doubles or trebles an author's emphasis, it may have the opposite effect. Is it all too much to take in at once? If we feel we need more time, who decides when everyone has had enough? Next month, or our own reading at home, may yield more riches from the same hymn. Some songs are repeated because of their poverty, not their wealth.
'Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow', says Macbeth in a mighty phrase among 12 much-quoted lines. One 'tomorrow' would be inadequate; six would turn tragedy into comedy. In another kind of drama, we would not start another round of Communion bread because the first had been so spiritually moving or so routinely unexciting. If the song has its own repeats already, to sing them over again could indicate that we didn't mean it the first time. The comment on the National Anthem was spot on. Some great moments in hymns are great because they come exactly once.
Repetition? Sometimes, yes; automatically, no. Let the poets have the last word; why this month? 'Now that April's here', Robert Browning commends the wise thrush, who 'sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture.' Is it wise to repeat everything? Yes, if we are thrushes, and our songs imply careless raptures. Now there's a thought! Now there's a thought!
