Music

I have attended the funeral services of so many friends and relatives recently that I know the recipe for “Funeral Potatoes” by heart. All but one of them had lived well beyond “the age of man” as designated in the scriptures and had raised beautiful families, served faithfully in the kingdom and were remembered with great love and gratitude by their posterities.

Their funerals, while evoking a degree of parting sadness, were happy celebrations of their lives. I long ago came to look forward to these services as occasions where I would hear speakers, usually family, testify of the things that matter most in life from an eternal perspective and I have resolved to focus more on those things. It is inspiring to hear the rehearsal of a life well-lived, but almost without exception it has been the music (hymns and songs) that touched me most profoundly and comforted me. Just let the music start and healing tears come easily.

The first death I remember in my immediate family was that of my beloved grandpa, Reuben Saunders, in 1957. I was a freshman at BYU just learning about songwriting, and I went to the practice room in my dorm and wrote a song about him through my tears. I didn’t show it to anyone until after his funeral, when I showed my mother. But I will never forget the depth of my feelings as the congregation at his funeral sang the hymn “Oh My Father”—I felt my heart would burst with such powerful feelings of sadness and joy! Comfort washed over me.

            When I leave this frail existence,
            When I lay this mortal by,
            Father, mother, may I meet you
            In your royal courts on high?
            Then, at length, when I’ve completed
            All you sent me forth to do,
            With your mutual approbation
            May I come and dwell with you.

                        (v. 4, Eliza R. Snow)

More recently I attended the funeral service for my dear cousin, Wayne Saunders, a man whose life was devoted to his large family and to church service as bishop, stake president, patriarch and temple sealer. He also married my life-long dear friend Delma, so his passing was particularly poignant to me. But comfort came when family and friends joined in singing “Be Still, My Soul,” at the beginning of his memorial service.

            Be still my soul: the Lord is on thy side;
            With patience bear the cross of grief or pain.
            Leave to thy God to order and provide;
            In ev’ry change he faithful will remain.
            Be still my soul: Thy best, thy heav’nly friend
            Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

            Be still my soul: the hour is hast’ning on
            When we shall be forever with the Lord,
            When disappointment, grief and fear are gone.
            Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
            Be still my soul: When change and tears are past,
            All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.
                        (v. 1 & 3, Katharina von Schlegel)
Delma, who is a classical concert pianist who could have impressed this grand gathering with her talents, chose instead to perform a beautiful, peaceful hymn medley that brought such calm to this occasion. Once again I was moved by the beauty and spirit of simple, meaningful hymns.

A few years ago my collaborator and dear friend, John Victor Pearson, with whom I have written over eighty hymns and songs, passed away in his fifties. I felt his loss deeply as I considered him to be one of the greatest hymn text writers of our day. When my brother Jack died a few years before John did, he wrote a hymn especially to comfort me in my brother’s passing: “How Blessed Are They Who Die in Christ”

            Oh, who is like unto my God,
            My blessed Jesus, He,
            My King of Everlasting Hope,
            My perfect Prince of Peace?
            Who like my Lord makes death to flee?
            With Him all men shall rise!
            What greater gift could e’er be giv’n
            Than His eternal life.

            How blessed are they who die in Christ:
            To them death shall be sweet.
            Their cares and sorrows all shall cease;
            Their joy will be complete.
            What glorious hope this brings to me!
            What perfect peace is mine!
            Oh, who is like unto my God,
            My Savior, Jesus Christ?

                        (v 1 & 4, John V. Pearson)

This past weekend I attended the funeral service of our former Bishop, Rodney Turner, one of the great gospel scholars and teachers of our day and an Emeritus Professor of Ancient Scripture at BYU. He also had a gift for writing poetry and hymn texts and after his retirement he and I collaborated on thirty hymns.

One of his most memorable hymns, “I Will Come Unto Christ,” was beautifully sung by twelve of his granddaughters at his funeral service. Rodney, who died at 92, had been saying for several years that he was “ready to launch” and in 2008 he gave me a hymn text that he said was his own funeral hymn—“When Evening Comes.” I especially like the message of this hymn and published it in our series, “Inspirational New Hymns for Choir and Home Vol 5.”

            When evening comes we all shall rise
            To grander lands and brighter skies
            Than ever greet our mortal eyes.
            So none should fear that last farewell,
            But look unto the wondrous dawn
            Of heaven’s bright morn
            When we shall come forth whole, reborn
            When evening comes.

            When evening comes, the Lord will call
            In judgment both the great and small
            That truth might triumph over all.
            Celestial glory is our goal,
            For earthly honors and display
            Are counted only beggar’s pay
            That swiftly crumbles into clay
            When evening comes.

            When evening comes, lo, there shall be
            A harvest for eternity
            Of those we love, of family.
            For we may claim what is our our
            If we receive what Christ did gain
            For those proved worthy to attain:
            A kingdom where the God’s do reign
            When evening comes.
                        (Rodney Turner)

About a decade ago I was able to obtain from her heirs a binder containing over five hundred poems/hymn texts written by pioneer poet Emily Hill Woodmansee, with whom I collaborated over a century’s time, on the hymn, “The Sisters of Zion,” p. 309 in our current hymnbook. After studying her life I came to consider her to be of the same caliber (and generation) as Eliza R. Snow.

In an article about Emily that I wrote a few years ago I concluded with these words: “Emily and I span more than a century of time, yet our hearts beat to the same steady and eternal rhythm of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. I have felt her spirit and strength and am honored to be her collaborator.” She wrote many funeral songs and I would like to quote a verse from one of her own poems as a fitting epitaph for her life, though it was written for a friend who preceded her in death:

            Resting now from care and sorrow,
            Resting from fatigue and pain;
            Faithfully she fought life’s battle—
            Death to such is endless gain.
            God hath gathered home her spirit,
            God hath taken what He gave;
            Friend and sister, sweetly slumber
            In the quiet, peaceful grave.
                        (v. 14, Emily Hill Woodmansee)

Even one of our latter-day prophets, Gordon B. Hinckley, realized the power of a comforting hymn about death, as he penned three profoundly meaningful hymn verses on that subject some twenty years before his own passing. Through a set of serendipitous circumstances, I set his text to music for my niece, Kathy Blacker, who died just several days before President Hinckley’s own passing. His family requested that the Mormon Tabernacle Choir perform “What Is This Thing That Men Call Death” at his funeral service, to my great joy.

            What is this thing that men call death,
            This quiet passing in the night?
            ‘Tis not the end but genesis
            Of better worlds and greater light.

            O God, touch thou my aching heart
            And calm my troubled, haunting fears.
            Let hope and faith, transcendent, pure,
            Give strength and peace beyond my tears.

            There is no death, but only change,
            With recompense for vict’ry won,
            The gift of Him who loved all men
            The Son of God, the Holy One.
                        (Gordon B. Hinckley)

 (Below is the video of the funeral performance by the Tabernacle Choir)

Janice Kapp Perry: Composer, author, lecturer