**Language Translation in Localizing Religious Musical Practice**

Editors

**John MacInnis Jeremy Perigo**

MDPI • Basel • Beijing • Wuhan • Barcelona • Belgrade • Manchester • Tokyo • Cluj • Tianjin

*Editors* John MacInnis Dordt University USA

Jeremy Perigo Dordt University USA

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This is a reprint of articles from the Special Issue published online in the open access journal *Religions* (ISSN 2077-1444) (available at: https://www.mdpi.com/journal/religions/special\_issues/ Language\_Practice).

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## **Contents**


## **About the Editors**

#### **John MacInnis**

John MacInnis serves as a Professor of Music, Music Department Chair, and Division Chair for Fine Arts at Dordt University. At Dordt, John's teaching responsibilities include teaching courses in music history and literature, world music, and music theory. John has presented and published research regarding church music, music history pedagogy, music and medieval philosophy, music in the liberal arts tradition from Antiquity through the Middle Ages, C. S. Lewis and music, Canadian music, and the music appreciation movement. John holds degrees in Musicology (Ph.D., Florida State University, M.Mus., Florida State University) with additional graduate study in church music, organ, and piano. As a pianist, John performs solo literature in recitals and collaborates in chamber ensembles. Additionally, John has performed as a pianist with the Northwest Iowa Symphony Orchestra. As an organist, John holds certification as a Colleague of the American Guild of Organists (CAGO) and has performed as a continuo organist with Renaissance and Baroque vocal and instrumental ensembles. As a leader in the arts, John has held offices with the Midwest Chapter of the American Musicological Society, American Guild of Organists, Iowa Musicology Day, and the Northwest Iowa Symphony Orchestra Board.

#### **Jeremy Perigo**

Jeremy Perigo has taught and trained on worship and mission in diverse global contexts for the past two decades. In addition, Jeremy is Director of Worship Arts and Campus Ministries at Dordt University and is a visiting lecturer at Regent University, Northern Seminary, and London School of Theology. Perigo served at LST as head of theology, music, and worship programs for six years. He has a Doctor of Worship Studies focused on the contextualization of Christian worship in Middle Eastern contexts. His current scholarly research centers on the intersection of worship, theology, and culture. Jeremy ministers internationally as a worship leader, preacher, and theological educator and is an ordained gospel minister with One Focus Network. He is also an accomplished saxophonist, and his most recent project London Christmas Session features jazz and gospel arrangements of Advent hymns & Christmas carols recorded in London.

## *Editorial* **Introduction to Special Issue "Language Translation in Localizing Religious Musical Practice"**

**John MacInnis**

Music Department, Dordt University, Sioux Center, IA 51250, USA; john.macinnis@dordt.edu

The inspiration and starting place for this Special Issue was the book *Making Congregational Music Local in Christian Communities Worldwide* (Routledge 2018), edited by Monique Ingalls, Muriel Swijghuisen Reigersberg, and Zoe Sherinian. In their introduction, the editors present the concept of "musical localization" in this way:

"Musical localization is the process by which Christian communities take a variety of musical practices—some considered 'indigenous,' some 'foreign,' some shared across spatial and cultural divides; some linked to past practice, some innovative and make them locally meaningful and useful in the construction of Christian beliefs, theology, practice, and identity." (Ingalls et al. 2018, p. 3)

Described thusly, the concept of localization acknowledges that one's practices, especially musical practices, contribute to how one constructs what it means to be Christian and the living out of that vision in a local context.

Ingalls et al. theorize musical localization to offer something different from related concepts like inculturation, contextualization, and indigenization. At heart, each of these terms, including localization, seeks to describe divergent local realities for Christians worldwide and to safeguard room for these differences to exist. In addition to preserving space for Christians to practice their faith differently, these terms also variously encourage the development of local distinctions.

Inculturation is a concept that has been employed within Roman Catholicism, especially in the late-twentieth century. With inculturation, some of the established and authoritative practices of the Church are translated for a local context and some are left untranslated, considered to be timeless and universal. Here, the local is considered a potential container or vehicle for the Gospel, which is itself gradually transformed by the Gospel message.

Contextualization is a similar concept that was popular among confessional Protestants, in the late-twentieth century, to describe the expression of Christian beliefs in a local context. With contextualization, the authority which judges what elements of a local culture are worthy to express Christian beliefs is not an institutional church, but the Christian scriptures. In both these concepts, inculturation and contextualization, there is an essential Christian core, an orthodoxy, which is assumed and which both transcends and transforms the local.

Indigenization is a term used in the discipline of Anthropology to describe the adoption of beliefs and practices once considered foreign into a local context. If inculturation and contextualization can be considered a sort of translation, then, using a different metaphor, indigenization can be considered as grafting.

Each of these terms offers something helpful in understanding how local Christians borrow from and share with other believers, but there can be great complexity to how these things happen, especially when considering musical practices. Ingalls and her colleagues make a case for localization as a descriptive and comparative theoretical tool because it purposely avoids ethnocentrism and because it privileges the agency of the local.

**Citation:** MacInnis, John. 2022. Introduction to Special Issue "Language Translation in Localizing Religious Musical Practice". *Religions* 13: 787. https://doi.org/10.3390/ rel13090787

Received: 11 July 2022 Accepted: 24 August 2022 Published: 26 August 2022

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2022 by the author. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

In relation to Ingalls' book, which sets forth the idea of localization with a wideranging set of case studies, this Special Issue develops the concept of musical localization in one specific area, language translation. That is, the articles collected here each explore aspects of musical localization that involve the translation of language, the words that are sung in worship by a congregation.

Remarkably, language translation has remained central to Christianity, from its beginning. By the Spirit's power, in Acts 2, the wonders of God were declared broadly, and a norm was instituted: The faith is translated so that others may know it. From Jerome to Luther to Eugene Peterson, the Bible has been profitably translated in every era. Likewise, from John Mason Neal and Catherine Winkworth to I-to Loh, Christian songs have been translated out to other cultures, as gifts to share, and translated in, as gifts received. Umberto Eco is popularly understood to have once said, "The language of Europe is translation." (See Cassin 2017) Be that as it may, the diverse articles collected here demonstrate that translation is, indeed, the language of Christianity.

The topics explored in these articles show the balance of translation priorities that local congregations can weigh as they work: between externally prescribed guidelines, as with Roman Catholicism (see the instruction *Liturgiam authenticam*), and exclusively local realities; between translations more oriented to the source language and culture, making that reality more plain, or to the recipients, ensuring that the meaning is adequately transferred to a new context; between even the decision to translate or not, perhaps choosing to sing the songs of another culture and language as they are, while risking appropriation.

To add more complexity to these concerns, Jorge Luis Borges' satirical short story "On the Exactitude of Science" suggests a further caution for all translators within the traditions of Christianity (Hurley 1999). The story's narrator describes a culture so obsessed with cartography that their maps eventually grow to a 1:1 scale. The map of an Empire was the size of the Empire, and, understandably, succeeding generations were not impressed with this inheritance and abandoned it. In like manner, the culture and mores of a source language could be translated and then imposed on the recipients. A translation can become a burden.

When done well, though, translated songs share the best, most crucial aspects of what it means to know God in one place, time, and language with people in another, so that those who hear may find new wisdom to live the truth, beauty, and goodness of the Christian faith in their own way, as themselves. That is, songs of faith from fellow believers, can bring to us a spiritual understanding, even an ontology, and we may be the richer for it. The translators of the King James Bible put it well, long ago:

"Translation it is that openeth the window, to let in the light; that breaketh the shell, that we may eat the kernel; that putteth aside the curtain, that we may look into the most holy place; that removeth the cover of the well, that we may come by the water . . . ." (Smith 1935)

This project has been blessed by the many authors who have participated. These scholars together show forth a rich diversity, in terms of where they are from and the work they do. Likewise, this Special Issue showcases a diversity of localities, languages, and Christian traditions.

Glenn Stallsmith's article "Protestant Congregational Song in the Philippines: Localization through Translation and Hybridization" presents three case studies, which explore the development of local musical practices in worship that reflect the complicated history of colonialism in the Philippines by Spain and then the United States.

Marcell Silva Steuernagel's article "Transnational and Translational Aspects of Global Christian Congregational Musicking" explores what happens when congregational songs travel along transnational networks and are transformed in localization processes. He shows how language translation is taken as an opportunity to reinterpret theology. His primary example is the Australian song "Mighty to Save" which is translated and localized for Brazilian churches.

Aminta Arrington's article "Translated or Transformed: The Use of Western Hymns in the Evangelization of the Lisu of Southwest China" presents her research among the Lisu people of southwest China. Lisu churches are completely independent of Western influence and support, and, yet, because of activity in their region by China Inland Missions, in the 1920s and 30s, one of the primary ways the Lisu practice their faith is in singing translated Western Protestant hymns, a cappella in four-part harmony. Dr. Arrington explains how, in translation, the sense of many of these hymns shifts from abstract theology to concrete physical realities of local believers.

Matt Connor and Matt Menger collaborated on their article "Strengthening Christian Identity through Scripture Songwriting in Indonesia." Their article relays how their work translating the Bible has influenced the development of local musical practices in congregational worship. Together they have hosted thirty-nine scripture songwriting workshops over the last six years. In these workshops, local songwriters use the translated scriptures to create new locally meaningful songs for congregational worship. Their article highlights the role of local agency, the importance of fusion genres, and the creation of unique Christian identities through the localization of music.

Daniel Thornton's article "A 'Sloppy Wet Kiss'? Intralingual Translation and Meaning-Making in Contemporary Congregational Songs" explores the translation that happens within an ostensibly homogeneous language and culture. In a study of popular contemporary congregational songs listed by CCLI, he shows how lyrics are altered and reinterpreted to define local church worship and identity. Drawing upon semiology, he shows how the same lyrics can be sung in different English contexts, with different meanings, and sometimes necessitating lyric changes in a local context, what he calls intralingual translation.

Jeremy Perigo, co-editor for this Special Issue, contributed the article "Beyond Translated vs. Indigenous: Turkish Protestant Christian Hymnody as Global and Local Identity." In it, he explains a debate among Turkish Christians between some who preferred singing contemporary songs in current Western styles and those who favored singing with traditional Turkish styles. He draws upon his research among Turkish Protestants in eighteen churches to describe the cultural and musical environment of contemporary Turkish Protestant worship.

Eun Young Cho, Hayoung Wong, and Zong Woo Geem contributed "The Liturgical Usage of Translated Gregorian Chant in the Korean Catholic Church." In this article, the authors explore how Korean Catholics, from the nineteenth century through today, navigate both the instructions for the use of Latin Gregorian Chant in *Sacrosanctum Concilium*, one of the constitutions of Vatican II, and their general preference for singing the historic repertoire of Gregorian Chants in local translation.

Eric Sarwar's article "Sur-Sangam and Punjabi Zabur (Psalms 24: 7–10): Messianic and Missiological Perspective in the Indian Subcontinent" explores how Psalm 24 resonates with Pakistani people worldwide, especially when it is translated into the Punjabi vernacular and sung with a traditional raga-based musical system. He explains how the singing of Psalms can serve to establish interfaith connections between Christians and followers of Islam.

Maria Monteiro's article, "Singing the Wondrous Story in Portuguese: The First Official Brazilian Baptist Hymnal, *Cantor Cristão*" shares the history of *Cantor Cristão*, published in 1891, and reveals important aspects of the development of Protestant hymnody in Brazil. She describes a web of long-distance linguistic and cultural connections that include English speaking Baptists in the US and the work of Solomon Ginsburg, the primary translator, a converted Baptist with roots in Poland. She shares how singing a specific repertoire of songs has been held to as a definitive faith practice for local Brazilian believers for over a hundred years.

Adán Alejándro Fernández's article "Liberationist Perspectives on the *Misa Criolla* by Ariél Ramírez" examines the *Misa Criolla* by Ariél Ramírez as a musical and liturgical symbol of liberation theology in South America. Written between 1963–1964, the *Misa Criolla* became popular around the world and helped bring attention to the indigenous poor of South America through its distinct presentation of the Roman Catholic Mass text after the Second Vatican Council. From a liberationist perspective, it represents a compromise between the liturgical and theological openness of Vatican II and more conservative movements afterwards, through the localization of the Catholic Mass liturgy.

It has been a distinct privilege to work with all these scholars. As followers of Jesus, our family truly spans the globe, and it has been a joy in this work to learn more about brothers and sisters around the world, how they live and worship. Indeed, the team of editors at *Religions* deserve special thanks for their patience, professionalism, and care for this project, from start to finish. May this Special Issue provide a helpful resource for all who read it.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The author declares no conflict of interest.

#### **References**

Cassin, Barbara. 2017. La langue de l'Europe? In *PO&SIE*. No. 160–161. Paris: Belin. [CrossRef]

Hurley, Andrew, trans. 1999. *Jorge Luis Borges: Collected Fictions*. New York: Penguin.


## *Article* **Transnational and Translational Aspects of Global Christian Congregational Musicking**

**Marcell Silva Steuernagel 1,2**

<sup>1</sup> Perkins School of Theology, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX 75205, USA; marcells@mail.smu.edu

<sup>2</sup> Meadows School of the Arts, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX 75205, USA

**Abstract:** What happens to a worship song as it crosses geographical, cultural, and theological borders? How does this reallocation modify the role a song performs—and is performed—in context? This essay examines how religious songs that flow along transnational networks are transformed in the process of localization. It focuses particularly on how translation, conceived of broadly to encompass verbal and non-verbal aspects, happens within these processes. I argue that, while lyric translation remains a core component of these phenomena, it is but one of the multiple processes of localization that occur when a song travels. Throughout such processes, theology is (re)interpreted and songs are performed differently even as local congregations perceive their engagement with these repertoires as a type of connection to broader worshiping networks. Towards this end, it follows "Mighty to Save", an Australian worship song, on its transnational path to re-localization within the context of Brazilian *gospel*. Analyses of the lyrical and musical translations and transformations the song is subjected to can shed further light upon the complex dynamic of transnational flows of religious repertoires in today's interconnected world.

**Keywords:** Brazilian Christian music; Christian congregational music making; church music studies; global Christian music; translation; transnationalization

#### **1. Introduction**

The year is 2015. I am leading worship at the Encontrão Jovem Nacional, an event that has gathered about 2500 Lutheran youth in Joinvile, in the southern state of Santa Catarina, Brazil. All participants have converged to a sports gymnasium for an evening of song and preaching. Backstage in the green room, we go through the setlist and check our gear. After a word of prayer, we make our way to the stage, grab our instruments, and launch into a rendition of "Poder pra salvar", a Portuguese translation of the Hillsong hit "Mighty to Save". Without hesitation, the youth pick up the song and quickly overwhelm the band; "Poder pra salvar" is a current favorite in youth gatherings throughout the Lutheran world, and most attendees are familiar not only with one or more of the Brazilian versions, but with the English-language original as well.

Along with two other worship leaders, I had been preparing for this event for well over a year. Before rehearsing, we spent a significant amount of time curating the conference repertoire and carefully revising Portuguese translations of worship songs from abroad, which are sometimes clunky either in content or poetry. As we revised the lyrics and retranslated a significant portion of our repertoire, certain questions kept resurfacing. What happens to a worship song as it crosses geographical, cultural, and theological borders? How does this reallocation modify the role a song performs–and is performed–in context? Or, as Helen Julia Minors (2014, p. xx) asks in the introduction to *Music, Text and Translation*, "how is music affected by text translation? And how does music influence the translation of the text it sets?".

**Citation:** Silva Steuernagel, Marcell. 2021. Transnational and Translational Aspects of Global Christian Congregational Musicking. *Religions* 12: 732. https://doi.org/10.3390/ rel12090732

Academic Editors: John MacInnis and Jeremy Perigo

Received: 2 August 2021 Accepted: 27 August 2021 Published: 7 September 2021

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2021 by the author. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

The information revolution of the twentieth century, further exacerbated by the increased digital mediation elicited by the COVID-19 pandemic, make such questions as relevant today as they have ever been. Mediated exchanges of religious musical artifacts have intensified across the globe to the point where we can often take for granted "the interconnectedness of music, media and Christianity" (Nekola and Wagner 2015, p. 1). At this intersection between music, media, and Christianity, two interrelated aspects related to the global flow of worship repertoires stand out: those of transnationalization and translation.

In this essay, I seek to examine how songs that flow along transnational networks are transformed in the process. I examine the underlying dynamics of transnational adaptations of contemporary worship music, asking what these transformations elicit for those engaging in congregational music-making, which Ingalls et al. (2018, p. 15) define as "a multidimensional social activity encompassing a wide range of materials to interpret, including creative practices, social practices, social processes, institutional dynamics, beliefs, and values, and elements of material culture". Recent scholarship has shed light upon these transformations in broad terms. Ingalls et al. (2018, p. 4), for instance, revisit the terminology used to describe "how Christian beliefs and practices are generated, circulate, and become embodied in diverse Christian communities"; terms such as inculturation, indigenization, and others. Here, I use the term "transformations" to indicate in general terms the dynamics of "musical localization" that they offer as a descriptor that encompasses both the "changing circumstances and shifting relationships between various groups and their Others [that] are themselves constants of all cultural life" (Ingalls et al. 2018, p. 14).

My goal is to provide, in a sense, a closer look "under the hood" of these processes whereby songs are transmitted, transplanted, adapted, and otherwise modified as they flow from context to context. While lyric translation remains a core component of these phenomena, it is but one of the multiple processes of localization that occur when a song travels. Other texts are bundled into songs: style, performance aspects, musical rearrangements, genre considerations (both in terms of market and identity), and mediation. As a consequence of the shifts that such aspects undergo along transnational networks, theology is (re)interpreted and performed differently in the context of music localization, as well as the terms in which local congregations perceive their engagement with these repertoires as a type of connection to broader worshiping networks.

My discussion focuses particularly on how notions of translation populate transnational flows. I rely here on Lucile Desblache's work at the intersection of musicology and translation theory. For Desblache, while for most people "translation involves some linguistic transfer", it also involves "cultural transformation, political mediation or other content transposition–from one genre into another for instance" (Desblache 2019, p. 67). Desblache's investigation is not focused on religious musicking, but can undergird our discussion of translation, particularly because of its hospitality to other aspects and texts of religious musicking that, while foundational to music making as an activity, remain underexamined, especially from the theological perspective.

If translation involves both transfer and transformation, it is both a notion and a process. While translators frequently strive under expectations of clarity and preservation of content from one language to another, the idea of a translator as a neutral mediator enabling a pure transmission of content has long been debunked. As Willis Barnstone (1993, p. 3) writes in the introduction to *The Poetics of Translation: History, Theory, Practice*, the act of translation is another Babel: "the eye glances back an instant, uncertain, through time's distorting glass and then glares ahead, in a new distorting mirror, to see the ever-changing places where new Babels will temporarily be reconstructed". For Barnstone, translation is an exercise in transformation, and one should acknowledge it as such. This re-examination of notions of translation is especially important in the case of music, according to Desblache: "the fluidity of translation as a notion is particularly necessary in relation to music, and relates to two notions which differ but do not conflict with each other: transfer, which allows existing content to move; and transformation, which brings forth linguistic, cultural, sensorial, aesthetic, and/or social changes" (Desblache 2019, p. 71). In other words, while some transfer of sense and content does occur, transformations (whether intended or not) also do.

I will examine these dynamics in one example, following a song as it travels along a particular transnational stream from Australia to Brazil: "Mighty to Save" (Hillsong Music 2006), released by the well-known Christian worship powerhouse Hillsong Australia. The song has been performed by various artists in Brazil, and different versions present unique variations that have arisen as Brazilian *evangélicos* incorporate it into their own worship cultures.<sup>1</sup> My comparison of these versions to the original and to each other, based on this broad concept of translation, are followed by considerations on how the particular transformations seen in this case help shed light upon the dynamics of translation and transnationalization of worship repertoires. Let me clarify from the outset that this essay is as much about transnationalization and translation as it is about any particular song. Thus, before proceeding with an of analysis of "Mighty to Save" and its Brazilian versions, we must establish the connection between the texts of congregational song, transnationalization, and the role of translation (again, broadly speaking) within this phenomenon.

#### **2. Texts, Transnationalization and Translation in Global Christian Music**

Much of Christian theology's study of the music of the church has focused on words. But there is more to a song (whether religious or not) than the lyrics.2 It is a composite, a tapestry of interwoven strands of lyrical content, stylistic choices, and performative aspects (among other texts). Furthermore, texts are more than words; they are discursive protagonists in the construction of meaning, anything that can be read. They are found beyond the lyrics in melody, arrangement elements, musical texture, delivery and vocality, gestures, and other elements interwoven in performance. Or, as Desblache (2019, p. 65) says, "musical texts generally comprise musical elements, such as notes, chord annotations, music transcription, and performed music and non-musical elements (verbal and visual content as well as performative content linked to the way a piece is played, sung, and/or produced)". Further–and it is important to acknowledge this–the distinction between text and context is diffuse, and the categorization of certain aspects of congregational musicking as *text* or as *context* is, in itself, a decision that reflects on the values of a researcher.

In order to understand how songs change, we must be able to analyze them both musically and theologically as these many texts combine and interact. Mark Parsons (2005, p. 54) argues that "part of the reason for [different approaches in analysis] is the manifold nature of song itself. It is not a monolithic form, but a composite of aspects consisting of text, tone and context". Parsons reviews various models for the analysis of songs, but concludes that "there will continue to be ambiguity concerning music and its theological significance until theology finds a way to reconcile these approaches" (Parsons 2005, p. 54). Parson's mention of text, tone, and context resonates with Desblache's previous description and with Simon Frith's terminology of words, rhetoric, and voices:

In listening to the lyrics of pop songs we actually hear three things at once: *words*, which appear to give songs and independent source of semantic meaning; *rhetoric*, words being used in a special, musical way, a way which draws attention to features and problems of speech; and *voices*, words being spoken or sung in human tones which are themselves 'meaningful', signs of persons and personality. (Frith 1996, p. 159)

From the perspectives of Parsons and Frith, even lyrical analysis itself cannot rely solely on words. Frith recognizes that "once we grasp that the issue in lyrical analysis is not words, but words in performance, then various new analytical possibilities open up" (Frith 1996, p. 166). Moreover, current scholarship pursues the analytical possibilities of sung music beyond the lyrics and into the social realm. As Nina Sun Eidsheim argues, "the broader phenomena of voice, vocal timbre, and timbre are not knowable entities but processes". Therefore, perceiving vocal timbre entails "dealing with slices of a thick event—a multitude of intermingling phenomena set within a complex dynamic of power and deferral over who gets to assign the meaning that ultimately affects the very medium it seeks to define" (Eidsheim 2019, p. 10). While we will not deal with power dynamics or many of these broader social implications here, it becomes clear that, if performance is a reality in congregational music making, lyrics, style, and other aspects of musicking are bundled into an activity that encompasses but also extends beyond the musical artifact itself.

Furthermore, certain phenomenological dynamics beyond the texts of song itself shape the way participants experience music in context. Elizabeth Margulis, in her examination of musical repetition, describes an affordance to "think along with the music" (Margulis 2013, p. 144), which I combine with Edwin Gordon's concept of audiation as a descriptor of the ability to function musically within the comprehension of musical meaning (Gordon 2007, p. 4). By combining Margulis' description with Gordon's concept, I converge upon the idea of theologization, defining it as a "process whereby congregants weave musical, lyrical, aural, and other texts into webs of meaning through the performance of church music". From this perspective, theologization "is not passive reception; it is conversational interaction with the texts of church music" (Silva Steuernagel 2021b, p. 68). If this is the case, how does theologization occur in the context of music localization across transnationalized networks? Is a worshiper in Brazil, singing a translated version of "Mighty to Save", sharing a theological performance with an Australian churchgoer at Hillsong headquarters? Before answering that question (and a few others), we must examine in more detail the phenomenon of transnationalization itself.

Transnationalization, along with other processes of cultural flow and interaction described by terms such as acculturation and indigenization, has received significant attention throughout the humanities. Ethnomusicologists, anthropologists, liturgical scholars, media scholars, and cultural studies scholars have become increasingly interested in how the cross-fertilization of religious musical repertoires has developed, especially within the context of global networks brought about by the information revolution (Chupungco 2016; Harkness 2014; Ingalls 2016; Johnson 2005; Perkins 2015; Wagner 2014).<sup>3</sup> The issue is further complicated by the question of mediation, particularly digital mediation; Wagner and Nekola are among the scholars who have taken the issue of mediation into account (Nekola and Wagner 2015).

Through the ebb and flow of migrations, diasporas, and other events that transplant people and cultural artifacts from place to place, and considering the waves of missionary efforts ingrained in the history of Western Christianity, it seems only natural to look at the issue of how bodies of Christian song proliferate, are adapted and appropriated, and become localized. In relation to religious practices, transnationalization can be defined as a process of de- and re-territorialization aided by the production of origin discourses that afford the re-anchoring of what was deterritorialized in new spaces that may be real or symbolic (Capone 2004, p. 11). Manéli Faramahnd argues that the phenomenon implies a dynamic of deterritorialization and reterritorialization, "and the relationships of governance that cross 'the transnational social field' and its networks of actors" (Farahmand 2016, p. 10). Further, according to Thomas Csordas, this process of transnationalization generates "modalities of religious intersubjectivity that are both experientially compelling and transcend cultural borders and boundaries (while in some cases forging new ones)" (Csordas 2009, p. 1). These modalities are experientially compelling and cross borders because inasmuch as "traversing boundaries is an aspiration to the universal, intersubjectivity is an aspiration to the sacred" (Farahmand 2016, p. 10).

Within the dynamics described by Faramahnd, Csordas, and Capone, transnationalized worship songs are compelling precisely because of these aspirations to the universal and to the sacred; they serve as windows into an imagined (and universal) community of faith that, by sharing in the performance of the song, sings and imagines their way into heaven together. I offer that this is true in the case of the Hillsong project discussed here, which seeks to "practically shape the lives of people in communities around the world" (Hillsong Church n.d.). Roberta King describes the interconnected repertoires that arise from these movements as a Global Christian Music (GCM) which would encompass "any

music found in the Christian Church worldwide" (King 2006, p. 6). Although her discussion focuses primarily on the incorporation of traditional musical elements from around the world into new contexts of worship (most of her examples come from the Global South), King's terminology of GCM can include songs that travel across borders and become part of transnationalized repertoires shared across denominational and geographical lines.

The question that surfaces then is if, in the process of transnationalization of musical repertoire, these projected aspirations to shared intersubjectivities and the universal are preserved (and if so, to what extent), especially in regards to the way translation modifies the kind of theologization that is actuated in the performance itself. As a song is reconfigured and recontextualized, what remains of the originally stated congregational and theological project of its creators? Overall, how do these texts and the context into which they are translated and performed shape the experience, interpretation and construction of meaning in re-localized contexts?

As I mentioned before, my operating concept of translation in this essay is broad and acknowledges texts other than the lyrics. In fact, in the case of music, acknowledging these other texts is an essential part of a wholistic investigation of how songs perform and are performed in context. For Desblache (2019, p. 4), "verbal and rational expressions can and often are complemented by other forms of communication". Drawing from the work of Edouard Glissant, she points to what he calls the "opacity" of non-verbal forms of expression "that frequently defy logic" and are therefore "not tied to one point of view" (Desblache 2019, p. 5). While Western Christianity and its theology–strongly primed towards the attraction of orthodoxies and the apparent clarity of the word–may become uneasy in the presence of such opacity, it nevertheless persists and thrives in Christian congregational musicking, because music is an "art of transformation and communication" that "draws its creative dynamism from tensions between imitation and innovative interpretation or mutation" (Desblache 2019, p. 6). Here, an inherent characteristic of any song form comes to light: that of being a function not exclusively of sound or lyric, but as a composite of both that (in the best cases) becomes something more than the sum of its parts. If that is so, the analysis of a song must factor for the interaction between the parts. From this perspective, acknowledging the opacity inherent to music, which defies the alluring temptation of supposed purity and clarity in translation, frees us to consider the complexity of the task at hand. Once accepted, this premise opens up myriad possibilities. Desblache argues:

Once the premise that music translation goes beyond the transfer of lyrics and words relating to music is accepted, the breadth of ways in which music can and is translated is astounding: a composer can mediate a waltz for the twenty-first century, a musicologist transcribe a medieval score into the tonal system, an audio describer set the visual context for a radio concert, a performer improvise on an established piece, a pianist adapt a salsa rhythm for a dance class, a team of engineers work on which technologies would be most effective for deaf people to perceive music through colours and vibrations, a conductor edit pieces for a concert aimed at children, a music lover with synaesthesia explains how sounds translate into colours, and a choir master arrange a song for a four part chorus. All of these and more relate to the notion of translation. As it moves across cultures and is thought out for different audiences, music is translated. (Desblache 2019, p. 114)

Desblache's description of music "moving across cultures" aligns with the dynamics of transnational flows of worship music in the formation of the GCM networks that King mentions. Desblache (2019, p. 251) argues that in popular music, "singable translations tend to take more distance from the original, musically and semantically". In transnational music networks, the translation of lyrics and music localization are matters of constant concern. Because of the requirement of the other texts involved, especially those connected to tempo and meter, these singable translations end up being adaptations much more than word-for-word content transfers from the original. Desblache calls the resulting artifacts "transcreations" in which new words deliver new semantic and poetic messages that "may or may not be in line with the original text" (Desblache 2019, p. 248).

Further, as we shall see in the case of "Mighty to Save", the process of translation results in stylistic modifications that position new versions in alignment or in contrast with the original release. These negotiations include "adopting social or personal trends and loosening some of the more flexible musical parameters such as tempo or timbre" while, at the same time, preserving other traces of the original, such as melody and rhythm, in order to prevent the dissolution of the connection between the two resulting songs" (Desblache 2019, p. 135). Finally, throughout the process, and given the transformations that occur during translation, it is important to acknowledge the shifts in theologization that accompany and result from these changes. Desblache (2019, p. 6) puts it thus: "Music translation can be limited to the transfer of lyrics, but music can influence the interpretation of a text much more broadly". She acknowledges that modifications in the musical texture, form, style, and others in fact shape how the lyrics are interpreted and engaged with in context.

Having established these three conceptual elements of our discussion: text, transnationalization, and translation, we now turn to Hillsong's "Mighty to Save" to further nuance how translation processes unfold within the context of transnational worship projects.

#### **3. "Mighty to Save" (Re)contextualized: The Brazilian** *gospel* **Movement and "Poder pra Salvar"**

Hillsong is a Christian Pentecostal church founded in 1983 by Brian and Bobbie Houston, previously affiliated with Australian Christian Churches (ACC), a member of the World Assemblies of God Fellowship. In 2018, Hillsong announced an amicable departure from ACC. As Hillsong grew from a church plant in the 1980s into an international worship influencer, it has re-branded itself as a "global movement positioned at the intersection of Christianity and culture" and has opened campuses in Australia, South and North America, South Africa, and several locations in Europe; the church's website describes churches in thirty countries spanning six continents (Hillsong Church n.d.). As of July 2021, Hillsong's website claimed that more than 150,000 weekly worshippers gather at a Hillsong venue each week. It is important to note that these worldwide congregations are not independent, but intimately connected to the Australian mother church. Karl Inge Tangen describes how these connections configure Hillsong and its many satellite churches as a "trans-local church", making it impossible to draw a sharp line between Sydney and its subsidiaries (Tangen 2012, p. 54).4

Hillsong Worship, described on the organization's website as "the legacy worship expression of Hillsong Church" (Hillsong Church n.d.) was established in 1992 and has released twenty-six albums as well as several singles and EPs. The musical branch of the church also includes Hillsong United and Hillsong Young & Free, focused towards a younger audience. The creation, production, and distribution of worship music and worship music-related digital content is arguably on of Hillsong's flagship strategies for growth. The church's musical catalogue is integral to the worshiping life of Hillsong congregations and is supported by albums, tours, conferences, online content, and other media initiatives. As *Christianity Today* contributor Ed Stetzer puts it, "even churches that are not like Hillsong Church—or even dislike the church—use and love their music. That's a key part of the global growing influence of Hillsong" (Stetzer 2014).

Tanya Riches and Tom Wagner have investigated Hillsong's development from an Australian megachurch to a global brand, and argue that "as the Australian megachurch Hillsong evolved, it developed a highly sophisticated and responsive method of branding that communicates its theological emphasis, corporate identity, and target audience" (Riches and Wagner 2012, p. 18). The nature of Hillsong's organization is one of the reasons why "Mighty to Save" was chosen for this investigation. Overall, the organizational structure of Hillsong, its attention to branding, its control over its subsidiaries, along with its aspirations to global influence, frame the transnationalization of their music in a unique way.

The success of Hillsong's "Mighty to Save" is part of the narrative Riches is describing. Written by Reuben Morgan and Ben Fielding, the song is the title track for Hillsong's fifteenth live worship album, eponymously titled *Mighty To Save* (Hillsong Music 2006). The album won "Worship Song of the Year" at the GMA Dove Awards in 2009 (Dove Awards n.d.). By some estimations, in 2010 approximately 45 million people were singing "Mighty to Save" on any given Sunday (Sherman 2010). In an interview with Matt Maher on WorshipTogether.com (Worship Together 2016), Fielding shared the song's origin story: "And then out of nowhere came this melody, and so we sat on that for a bit, and formed this chorus ..." In the interview, Maher identifies the lyrics of the chorus in a passage in the book of Zephaniah.5

The song's authors have also suggested in interviews that they were surprised by the song's success. Such commentary establishes the authenticity of the author's intentions by connecting the lyrics to the Bible, and by emphasize the non-intentionality behind the song's international success. This stance, in turn helps frame Hillsong's transnational project in a positive light, a narrative of success that is born out of God's will instead of the aspirations of individual musicians or industry executives. The Hillsong project, and the story of "Mighty to Save" within it, incorporate a number of tropes found in the scholarship I interact with here: the role of media, the globalization of Christianity, and the creation shared, imagined communities of worshipers in transnational networks. A deeper examination of the transnationalization of "Mighty to Save" into the context of Brazilian Christianity can help us understand the translation dynamics that characterize such cultural flows.

Since the late 1980s, the Christian music industry in Brazil has developed into a full-blown phenomenon, with the term *gospel* serving as "an umbrella term to designed 'Christian' music tailored for consumption by *evangélicos*" (Silva Steuernagel 2021a, p. 139). Hillsong's insertion into the Brazilian *gospel* scene can be considered a rather recent development, given that Brazil's modern Christian music industry can be traced to the mid-twentieth century. Although Hillsong opened a church in São Paulo in 2016, their foray into the Brazilian Christian music scene began with a partnership with what is arguably Brazil's most well-known music ministry, *Diante do Trono* (DT). An initiative of Igreja Batista da Lagoinha, a charismatic Baptist church that is one of the largest in the country (Rosas and de Castro 2014, p. 219), DT became widely known throughout Brazil and internationally through a series of well-received worship albums. They appeal to Brazilian *evangélicos* across denominational boundaries and gather hundreds of thousands, and sometimes millions, at their events (Rosas 2015, p. 77). Ana Paula Valadão, the ministry's frontwoman, has partnered with "churches and ecclesiastical projects outside Brazil such as the Gateway Church (Texas/U.S.), the Australian musical group Hillsong and Global Kingdom" (Rosas and de Castro 2014, p. 220).

The partnership between Hillsong and DT began in 2000, when Ana Paula Valadão, *Diante do Trono's* lead vocalist and most public figure, recorded Darlene Zech's "Shout to The Lord" (Hillsong Music 1996) in Portuguese. In 2012, Hillsong and DT collaborated within the context of Hillsong's Global Project, an initiative aimed at translating and releasing Hillsong music in nine different languages (Neves n.d.). The Portuguese version of the album, released in 2012, included "Poder pra salvar", the official translation of "Mighty to Save". The project was described on the Diante do Trono website as an attempt to "break linguistic and cultural barriers" between nations (Neves n.d.).

Nevertheless, this was not the first recording of "Mighty to Save" in Portuguese.<sup>6</sup> In 2007, Aline Barros, another major female singer in the *gospel* scene in Brazil, recorded the song on her album *Caminho de Milagres.* In both cases, the instrumentation and arrangement remain faithful to Hillsong's original release.

In order to give a fully developed sense of how translation occurs within the context of music localization of worship songs, three other Brazilian versions of "Mighty to Save" are presented here. These renditions will help to give us a broader panorama of how the song has "travelled" throughout Brazil. Radicais Livres is a youth ministry belonging

to Igreja da Videira, based in the state of Goiânia. Established in 2000, the church relies heavily on music to drive its message, and founded the Radicais Livres music ministry in 2007 to headline its annual conferences, which usually gathers around fifty thousand worshippers and features other national and international attractions from the Christian music scene. The band's goal is to "manifest God's glory in our generation". (Livres 2007). In 2007, the band released a live album entitled *Fome de Ti* that featured a version of "Poder Pra Salvar".

Another Brazilian artist that incorporated "Poder pra salvar" into his repertoire is Thiago Grulha. Representing a younger generation of *gospel* artists, Grulha included the song in his album *Meus Passos no Tempo* (Grulha 2010). Produced by Paulo César Baruk, another leading figure in the *gospel* scene, Grulha's version was also included in *Somos Iguais*, a live album (Grulha 2013). The arrangement in both cases is nearly identical, and the live version will be analyzed here in order to preserve parallels with the majority of other recordings, which are also live.

The last version included in this investigation was recorded by União Coral (Choral Union), an interdenominational group based in the state of São Paulo. União Coral is primarily composed of amateurs who rehearse, record, and perform on the *gospel* circuit of churches and events. The inclusion of the União Coral rendition can be taken as an attempt to demonstrate how "Mighty to Save" has arrived at a grassroots level in Brazilian *evangélico* culture; while the other recordings come from well-established or up-and-coming artists on the national scene, the version presented by União Coral represents an effort by a group operating locally and/orregionally. The version analyzed here is featured on the group's YouTube channel.

We have traced the history of how "Mighty to Save" became "Poder pra salvar" and was introduced to Brazilian audiences. It is now time to turn to the comparative analysis of Hillsong's original release with its Brazilian counterparts in orde to understand the impact of transnationalization and the dynamics of translation in this particular case.

#### **4. Comparative Analyses of "Mighty to Save"/"Poder pra Salvar"**

I will analyze a number of the song's texts separately, beginning with a comparative analysis of the lyrics. I will then move on to other non-verbal components which have undergone transformations to varying degrees. A framework is needed for the comparative analysis of the song's translated lyrics, which I draw from the work of Peter Low. While I agree with Desblaches that Peter Low's typology of lyrical transformations is of limited use outside the context of song translation practice, I will refer to it in my lyrical analysis of "Poder pra salvar" because his distinction between translation, adaptation and replacement text can help us understand the challenges of translating lyrics to be sung in another language. Low also acknowledges what has already been argued here: that a song is a "verbal-musical hybrid" (Low 2013, p. 229). Further, he recognizes the challenges of translating song lyrics:

because a good song lyric is a complex and poetic text, a good singable translation requires skilful handing of non-semantic aspects, such as rhythm and singability, in order to satisfy its particular *skopos.* Indeed, a semantically exact [translation] would fail to do its job. This juggling of several criteria means that song translations score less highly on semantic transfer than do informative translations. (Low 2013, p. 230)

Low then offers a typology for the classification of such artifacts. The first type is a translation, which from his perspective would present a faithful transfer of content between languages. The second, adaptation, sports some deviation from the original meaning. Finally, a replacement includes new lyrical content. While Low offers an alternative typology that argues for a narrower definition of a song translation and the recognition of adaptations as the normative practice in song translations, he acknowledges, with Desblache and Barnstone, that "a translation dwells in imperfection, using equivalents and shunning mechanical replicas–which is the dream of literalists who believe in truth. It

gives us the other. Or under another name it gives us itself" (Barnstone 1993, p. 266). In other words, while translation is an attempt at conservation during the transfer of content, it gives birth to itself by the inevitability of mutation inherent to it.

This dynamic becomes evident in Table 1, which presents three sets of lyrics for "Mighty To Save". In the first column, the original English version is presented. The middle column features the standard Portuguese version. This is the most frequently sung version of "Poder pra salvar" in Brazil, although different congregations or ensembles might perform minute variations/modifications on the words. The third column offers a literal translation of the Portuguese version back into English.


**Table 1.** Comparison of lyrics of "Mighty to Save" in English and "Poder pra salvar" in Portuguese.

All three of Low's types appear in a comparison of the versified Brazilian version to its literal translation into English. In select passages, lyrics are preserved or translated (in Low's sense of translation as the faithful transfer of content). This is the case in verse 3. While minute variations in meaning between the English and the Portuguese do exist, the overall sense and lyrical distribution of the words is similar. The main differences are the exclusion of "so" and "again" in the Portuguese, and the inclusion of two words that equate to the English "fear": "medos" and "temores". Otherwise, the translation adheres quite closely to the original. The same argument can be made for the translation of the chorus, with the main variation being between the English "conquered the grave" and the Portuguese "a morte venceu", which would translate literally as Jesus having "won over death".

Conversely, there are a number of translation strategies that would fall under Low's category of adaptation. I will subdivide them here into modification and summarization. A good example of the modification strategy is the choice of descriptor to indicate persons of the Trinity; in the English version, God is referred to as "Savior"; in the Brazilian translation, this is modified to "Christ". Although it could be argued that these two words refer to the

same person in the Godhead, I suggest that a different word will emphasize a different aspect of the deity, and that choice of emphasis influences theologization. Such minute modifications are found throughout the translated lyrics. Thus, modification can be taken to signify variations that, while attempting to preserve the immediate meaning of a phrase or term, are transformed to accommodate the resistances across different languages.

Another common adaptation strategy used here is summarization: a group of concepts, words, or ideas is summarized into a condensed statement, making space for other elements (or a different number of syllables, to accommodate proper prosody and hymnic meter). In this process, certain nuances of the original lyrics might be lost. Consider, for example, the idea of the Savior as a "hope of nations" in the second verse. In the Brazilian version, while the idea of a Savior is preserved, the specific reference to the nations does not appear; there is no space for it. The emphasis in Portuguese is on a God of grace that forgives, but the global aspect of that saving work is not emphasized in the same way. If the meaning is there, it is simply implied.

Finally, the strategy of substitution illustrates Low's category of replacement. Although this might seem quite similar to modification (one could argue that the difference is one of degree and not of genre) substitution is in fact the removal of a word, phrase, or idea and the inclusion of another in its place. This is illustrated in the same passage we have just examined in verse two. The original reads: "Everyone needs forgiveness/The kindness of a Savior". In the translation, this becomes: "Everyone needs/Grace and forgiveness". In the Brazilian version, the idea of "grace" substitutes the original evocation of "kindness", even as "forgiveness" is preserved. We will come back to the question of the impact of these strategies in my conclusion, where the question of the theological impact of the substitution of "kindness" with "grace" will be addressed. For now, it is sufficient to highlight that procedures of modification, summarization, and substitution illustrate the elusiveness of any notion of a direct transmission or transfer of lyrical content from English to Portuguese.

One final dynamic has further impact on the translation of songs. Poet and academic H. L. Hix speaks of "translation inertia" in his preface to *The Gospel* (Hix 2020). He describes it as "the tendency, strongest in often-translated and widely-read texts" to "replicate in later translations word choices from earlier translations because they are now familiar, rather than because they are still apt" (Hix 2020, p. xix). I suggest that a similar dynamic influences the translation of worship songs into other languages. As in the gospel translation issues that Hix is referencing, one might speak of a jargon of worship that develops within a religious context. In Brazil, this jargon may include vocabulary from bible translations such as the one by João Ferreira de Almeida, a sixteenth-century Dutch Reformed pastor from Portugal. Almeida's work has been revised and re-revised numerous times, but continues to shape the way Brazilian *evangélicos* speak of God and the Christian faith.

The translation of "Mighty to Save" demonstrates this inertia in several spots. One example occurs in the bridge (Table 1). The English version invites worshipers to "shine your light and let the whole world see". One interpretation of these verses is that it is an encouragement to Christian witness; this interpretation is further reinforced by the next verse, which states that the reason for worshipers to sing the song is to glorify God. Here, witness and worship are gathered in a congregational invitation that focuses on the worshipers and not on God. A comparison with the Portuguese version seems to point towards an analogy of Jesus being the light that is being sung about. For Brazilian worshipers, this is a common thematic and poetic trope in worship because of the strength of the rhyme between "luz" and "Jesus". It is a combination that appears in multiple other songs, and this association shines through in the act of translation. It is an example of Hix's idea of translation inertia: as certain thematic and poetic combinations proliferate in and between worship contexts, they also surface in new translations, feeding back into the inertia itself. In the process, the theological senses that are being performed by participants change because of these translational dynamics.

In summary, our analysis of the lyrical translation of "Mighty to Save" into Portuguese demonstrates that it is a process of compromise that includes the interpretation of ideas, lyrical demands of language, rhythm, prose, and personal choices of the translator. Such choices respond to a language's particular resistances and to the cultural and theological context in which the translation is performed. This is a dynamic that scholars have identified elsewhere; Jadwiga Suwaj, analyzing Polish translations of Hillsong music, describes how in most cases translators strive to preserve the sense of the lyrics instead of preserving word-for-word patterns (Suwaj 2014, p. 340). In any case, lyric translation remains one of the main concerns in studying transnationalized repertoire: whatever theologization might in fact be occurring in a new context, lyrical modifications illustrate how varied this process takes shape across borders and cultural circumscriptions. The question, then, is not "if" something changes in the lyrics; it is, in fact, what these changes mean and what impact they might have in the performance and reception of songs that have been re-localized.

We now turn to the non-verbal performative aspects of translation in transnationalized worship music, focusing on a comparison of the form of each arrangement over and against the Hillsong version. Tables 2–7 outline the sections of "Mighty to Save"/"Poder pra salvar" in all versions examined in this essay. The left column identifies the section of the song, while the right column outlines arrangement notes, stylistic observations, and instrumentation. When no modification occurs between sections, the right column remains blank. Meter, tempo, and key are given for each version.


**Table 2.** Form and arrangement outline of "Mighty to Save" in its original version.

A comparative analysis of these versions yields a plethora of considerations. The first is that there is not a significant amount of variation between the versions, especially in terms of key and tempo. Although variations do occur, they are mostly related to form and texture. Form varies based the number of repetitions of choruses and bridges performed. in each version, and the texture changes because of the way each ensemble manages the contrast between full band sections and more transparent sections, in which voices (either congregational, harmonized, or featuring a choir) are evidenced. It is important to note that all these elements are present in Hillsong's original arrangement. Also worthy of note is the strong resemblance between Hillsong Australia's original version, Aline Barros' version, and the Hillsong Brasil/Diante do Trono release. The only variation in form is the

repetition (or lack thereof) of the first appearance of the chorus. All three of these versions rely on the same guitar riff in the introduction, similar full band/a capella contrast sections, and end in similar fashion.

**Table 3.** Form and arrangement outline of Aline Barro's version of "Poder pra salvar".


**Table 4.** Form and arrangement outline of Radicais Livres' version of "Poder pra salvar".



**Table 5.** Form and arrangement outline of Hillsong Brasil/Diante do Trono's version of "Poder pra salvar".

**Table 6.** Form and arrangement outline of Thiago Grulha's version of "Poder pra salvar".


The second consideration is that variation appears more explicit in later versions of the song. Although the Radicais Livres version (Livres 2007) is rather succinct compared to its contemporaries (it came out the same year Aline Barros' version did, a year after the original album was released in English), its arrangement does not deviate significantly from the original in terms of form. But there is a variation of texture brought about through the addition of a heavier electric guitar sound in certain sections. On the other hand, Thiago Grulha's version (Grulha 2013) varies the introductory guitar riff, adds a countermelody in the interlude, leaves out a significant number of repetitions, and substitutes the ending for an instrumental coda. The União Coral version (Coral 2014) features even more variation. The melody is heavily harmonized, the meter is altered in the first half of the song, and the ending is similar to Grulha's. A possible conclusion is that, as time goes by, artists and groups feel more comfortable in deviating from the original arrangement as they further localize the song. Such processes of appropriation afford liberties that might have been frowned upon in early versions.


**Table 7.** Form and arrangement outline of União Coral's version of "Poder pra salvar".

Finally, we arrive at considerations of style and performance, focusing on instrumentation, vocal delivery (vocality) and vocal harmonization. Interestingly, there is very little variation in tempo between the various versions presented here, both in relation to the original and to each other. While Hillsong's original version is performed at 72 bpm, the fastest of the Brazilian versions is played at 75 bpm. This is also the case in relation to tonality. Most versions remain in A Major, the original key, except for Aline Barros', which is performed a whole tone up in B Major, and União Coral's version in D Major. It is my view that the tonality is determined by the vocal range of the melody, which ranges from E4 to E5 in the original version (an octave). This extension falls significantly out of congregational range if raised drastically; likewise, transposing the song down more than 3 whole steps would place most of it in a lower register, removing the clarity and brightness, especially, of the chorus and bridge. So, while Aline Barros' variation does not significantly impact the vocal delivery in performance, I suggest that the reason União Coral's version is a perfect fourth above the original is because of the need to accommodate more complex vocal harmonies, stacked as it is with three or four notes at a time.

Another characteristic that appears in several of the Brazilian versions is the use of overdriven guitars (both lead and rhythmic). While the Radicais Livres version is the "heaviest" of the renditions, Grulha's and União Coral's versions also make use of similar timbres. While overdriven guitars are present in the original arrangement, they are mixed with the rest of the band in a blended, polished mix. But in these three versions, the guitar is enhanced in the mix, suggesting a preference towards this particular timbre. While it is difficult to explain precisely why, one possibility is the close ties between the development of Brazil's *gospel* sound, the rise of Christian rock within this context,<sup>7</sup> and the preference for the sound of "modern worship" that resulted from what Ingalls calls the "British Invasion" of worship music in the United States (Ingalls 2016), making its way into Brazil from there.

My final consideration refers specifically to the use of the voice in the Brazilian renditions of "Poder Pra Salvar". Tracing the characteristics of vocal delivery, of what Allan Moore calls the "vocality" of the singer (Moore 1998, 2012), it is possible to identify a string of variations that attest, at the same time, to the integrative nature of Brazilian *gospel* and to the establishment of explicit cultural markers within the performance of transnationalized repertoire (at least to the listener trained to identify these markers).

While I agree with Eidsheim that "there is no unified or stable voice" (Eidsheim 2019, p. 9) and that we must acknowledge collective and cultural aspects in any examination of the voice, as well as be aware of what she calls "the micropolitics of listening (Eidsheim 2019, p. 33), it

may be possible to investigate in further detail the vocal dynamics that reflect the localization process in the case of "Poder pra salvar". Brazilian *gospel* reflects, in a sense, what many Brazilians would perceive to be their intense, embodied, quasi-visceral engagement with music and with worship (Burdick 2013). Brazilian culture emphasizes engagement, contact, and intensity within the context of music making (and in many other dimensions as well).

The way in which this particular idea has influenced the vocality of Brazilian *gospel* is clear in the analysis of these renditions of "Poder pra salvar", and demonstrates how the process of transnationalization affords generative affective combinations of texts, context, and theologization. John Burdick (2013, p. 137) describes how black *gospel* generates hyperattention to the physical organs of the vocal apparatus. The distinctions between Darlene Zschech's and Reuben Morgan's vocal delivery in the live recording of the *Mighty To Save* and the vocality of Aline Barros are immediately discernible. Similar characteristics are found in the voice of Ana Paula and André Valadão in the Hillsong Global Project (n.d.) recording (to a slightly lesser degree). These particular characteristics include a slightly over-exaggeration of certain phonetic combinations (particularly the "s" and "t" sounds, which are delivered with a fuller sound than in spoken Portuguese), the deliberate straining of the vocal chords and tensing of the neck muscles to evidence emotional engagement, and frequent use of ornamentation, appended melodic fragments, and spontaneous vocal interjections interspersed with the original melody. This particular combination of traits is stylistically characteristic of Brazilian *gospel* which, besides inevitably being rooted in the African heritage of the slave trade, also inherited the pop-romantic sensibilities of North American popular music (Reck 2011, p. 49).

Burdick's argument about vocality appears more explicitly in Grulha and União Coral's versions. While Grulha begins his rendition with a light, highly technical (and ornamented) approach, he progressively incorporates the characteristics described here, combining the African American preference for vocal virtuosity with similar traits as demonstrated by other *gospel* singers like Barros and Valadão. União Coral's version goes even further. We have already seen how the option to harmonize many portions of their arrangement necessitated a transposition to a different key. The arrangement features highly ornamented solo vocal sections, two-part harmonies heavily laden with vocal flourishes, and three- and four-part harmonies that connect their arrangement directly to the tradition Burdick is describing in his study. From this perspective, "Mighty to Save" goes from Australian Pentecostal to Brazilian *gospel* featuring variations that connect it to a musical heritage (and practice tradition) diverse from that of its original context. Other elements in the arrangement, such as the use of congas in the chorus and a compound (12/8) "swing" in the first half of the arrangement, coupled with ensemble vocalizations that directly evoke the sound of the work of artists such as Kirk Franklin, support this idea.

In summary, in the process of localization of "Mighty to Save" as "Poder pra salvar" in Brazil, transformations occur in various aspects of the song. They appear in the translation issues identified here, and result in theological variations that are not explicit in the original version. In addition, while the musical arrangements themselves seem to adhere to the original in early versions, they become increasingly diverse as time goes by and the song is incorporated into regional and local contexts. Consequently, interpretations of the song begin to reflect performative characteristics of these contexts. Such transformations appear in the vocal delivery of the song, as well as in several other musical aspects.

#### **5. Conclusions**

The goal of this investigation was to examine how transnationalized musical repertoire changes in a new context, focusing on how translation, theological reinterpretation, and musical rearrangement modify the place these songs occupy in the process of music localization. Tracing the variations of "Mighty to Save", appropriated into the Brazilian *gospel* scene as "Poder Pra Salvar", I offer three final considerations.

The first consideration refers to modes of analysis. In his discussion of complex and increasing interaction between cultures, Appadurai (1996, p. 47) argues that "the relationship of these various flows to one another as they constellate into particular events and social forms will be radically context-dependent". Within such a scenario, monotextual analysis does not seem to respond to the multi-layered, ever-shifting constellations of imagined realities that characterize practices of Christian worship. A factor that further complicates this issue is the ever-increasing speed with which these interactions take place, and also with which modifications and variations occur to any musical artifact embroiled in such interactions. Therefore, any scholarly investigation of transnationalized worship music necessarily happens at a crossroads between different modes of expression, appropriation, and other forms of cultural/economic/social/political interaction.

A second consideration derives directly from the first: as new investigations are performed, their findings can help researchers understand what *types* of theologization are being performed in different contexts. If previous scholarship relied heavily on assumptions of the inviolability of the colonial project to justify its findings, contemporary scholarship must understand the construction of meaning in context to legitimize its conclusion. In other words, it is not safe to presume any kind of transmission or transfer of religious meaning from originating context to (re)localized context, especially given the elusive nature of translation. One must look at the musical artifact within its new context as a new ecology for theologization; a context in which theological ideas edited into the transnationalized artifact elicit responses that are indigenous in their reaction to said ideas. The idea of "grace" in "Poder pra salvar" serves as an example. The term itself is not part of the original lyrics of "Mighty To Save", but its incorporation into the song's Portuguese version results in the creation of new theological sense. To put it another way: there are significant differences in the way a Pentecostal, a Presbyterian, a Baptist, a Charismatic or a Brazilian Lutheran *sing* about grace and conceive it theologically. Any of these imagined singers can easily relate to Brazilian *gospel* culture in one way or another, but what they are theologizing into the experience of imagined community is vastly diverse. The result is a kaleidoscope of theologized worshipscapes.

A final consideration refers to the very concept of transnationalization. As we have seen, as a musical artifact develops over time and is further localized, it creates its own space, depending less and less on its original transnationalized narrative along with that narrative's non-verbal accoutrements. While I agree with Csordas' parsing of *how* religion travels (Csordas 2009), I believe that the question of time needs to be reflected more clearly in the analysis of transnationalized, translated worship songs. As time goes by, it seems that musical artifacts move beyond from the function of being a portal into their original imagined communities of worship. They contribute to the establishment of new ecologies of theologization that feature fresh, localized connections, and that incorporate local expressions of musical piety that do not rely on the reputation (or theological perspective) of their originating proponents.

Anna Nekola says that "music functions in congregational worship in many ways: as a vehicle for content, a site of sensory engagement, a means of connection to tradition, a place for personal expression and a channel for emotion" (Nekola 2015, p. 2). All these dimensions are addressed in the multi-textual configuration analyzed here: while songs are certainly vehicles for content (and we have seen how translation modifies this content even as it contextualizes it), they also connect congregations to their tradition even as they dialogue with congregational comprehensions of what it means to be a Brazilian *evangélico*. In this sense, a multimodal analysis of the texts involved appears to be a more comprehensive approach to investigate the phenomenon of congregational song as an act of theologization, informed by the texts that constitute the very phenomenology of the experience.

This examination of how "Mighty to Save" has crossed boundaries into Brazil, becoming "Poder Pra Salvar", can thus contribute to scholarly discussions about the transnationalization, translation, and music localization of religious repertoires across the globe. In the context of the increased transportability of cultural artifacts in today's world, and in connection with the complex realities of interactions between countries, cultures, religions, ideologies, and people groups in a broad sense, such discussions shed light on the ever-shifting constellations of Christian worship music.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The author declares no conflict of interest.

#### **Notes**


#### **References**

Appadurai, Arjun. 1996. *Modernity at Large Cultural Dimensions of Globalization*. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Barnstone, Willis. 1993. *The Poetics of Translation: History, Theory, Practice*. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Barros, Aline. 2007. Poder pra salvar. In *Track #6 on Caminho de Milagres*. Rio de Janeiro: MK Music, Compact Disc.

Burdick, John. 2013. *The Color of Sound: Race, Religion, and Music in Brazil*. New York: NYU Press.


Coral, Uniao. 2014. União Coral-Mighty to Save (Poder Pra Salvar Cover). Available online: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6 5aPTGW0qU (accessed on 4 February 2017).

Csordas, Thomas J. 2009. *Transnational Transcendence: Essays on Religion and Globalization*. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Desblache, Lucile. 2019. *Music and Translation: New Mediations in the Digital Age*. London: Palgrave Macmillan.

Diante do Trono. 2012. Poder pra salvar. In *Track #13 on Hillsong Global Project Com Diante Do Trono*. São Paulo: Hillsong Music Australia/Sparrow Records/Canzion Brasil, Compact Disc.


Hillsong Global Project. n.d. Available online: http://hillsongglobalproject.com/ (accessed on 3 February 2017).

Hillsong Music. 1996. Shout To The Lord. In *Track #12 on Hillsongs—Shout To The Lord*. Nashville: Integrity/Hosanna! Music, compact disc.


## *Article* **Singing the "Wondrous Story" in Portuguese: The First Official Brazilian Baptist Hymnal,** *Cantor Cristão*

#### **Maria Monteiro**

Church Music Department, Baylor University, Waco, TX 76798, USA; Maria\_Monteiro@baylor.edu

**Abstract:** This paper discusses the history of *Cantor Cristão*, the first official Brazilian Baptist hymnal, published in 1891, revealing important aspects of the development of Protestant hymnody in Brazil. It also exposes a web of long-distance connections, multiple linguistic and cultural elements, and distinct perspectives of those who chose to do missionary work and those who chose to welcome them. More specifically, I describe and reflect on the contributions of Solomon L. Ginsburg, an Orthodox Jew from Poland, converted to Christianity in England, and turned Evangelical missionary, who played a crucial role in the history of *Cantor Cristão* as publisher, author, and translator of hymns. In my analysis, I adopt a historical ethnomusicological perspective and utilize the concept of musical localization, as well as the complementary notions of negotiation of proximity and ethics of style as interpretative lenses. I am drawn to a more nuanced view of the legacy of the mission enterprise, one that is not blind to issues of power, ethnocentrism, and wealth, but makes room for a robust examination of all sorts of capital transfers and investments (economic, cultural, and social), and the real phenomena of musical localization and individual agency.

**Keywords:** mission hymnody; Brazilian Baptist hymnody; gospel hymns in translation; musical localization

#### **1. Introduction**

The publication of *Cantor Cristão* in 1891 by missionary Solomon L. Ginsburg (1867–1927) marked the beginning of a lasting and meaningful relationship between Baptists in Brazil and their hymnal. Over the years, *Cantor Cristão* ("Christian Singer") has been revised and expanded—the thirty-seventh edition was published in 2007—but it remained the only official Baptist hymnal for 100 years.1 Although a second Brazilian Baptist hymnal, *Hinário para o Culto Cristão* was published in 1991, *Cantor Cristão* is still in use today. More than a collection of hymn texts in Portuguese, *Cantor*—as the hymnal is sometimes called comprises the core hymnic repertoire embraced by Baptist congregations all over Brazil, past and present. This paper discusses the creation and changing nature of *Cantor Cristão* throughout its long and influential history, and reflects on the impact of the hymnal's repertoire on the very identity of Brazilian Baptists.

My interest in this topic arises from my personal, academic, and church ministry experiences. I was born in Brazil and grew up as a religious minority, a Baptist. Although most of my maternal relatives were Baptist, my father's side of the family was Roman Catholic, as were my neighbors and school mates. In a city of over a million inhabitants, I was an invisible minority. Despite the fact that there were no missionaries serving in any capacity at my home church—First Baptist Church of Recife, a fiercely independent Brazilian Baptist congregation2—I grew up singing from a hymnal comprised of mostly American hymns translated into Portuguese; singing in church choirs (translations of American choir pieces); and participating in missions education classes for children, youth groups, and Sunday School, typical elements of American Baptist congregations. It is worth noting that my church was just a few city blocks away from North Brazil Baptist Theological Seminary, the oldest Baptist theological seminary in Latin America, led and supported by the then powerful Southern Baptist Foreign Mission Board.

**Citation:** Monteiro, Maria. 2022. Singing the "Wondrous Story" in Portuguese: The First Official Brazilian Baptist Hymnal, *Cantor Cristão*. *Religions* 13: 18. https:// doi.org/10.3390/rel13010018

Academic Editors: John MacInnis and Jeremy Perigo

Received: 15 October 2021 Accepted: 11 December 2021 Published: 25 December 2021

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2021 by the author. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

In my early twenties, I moved to the United States and joined a Baptist church. Despite my limited English, I attended services, sang in the choir, and played in a handbell ensemble. When I started college a few months later, I attended Baylor University (a Baptist school) and was taught by many professors who, like me, were Baptist, or at least Protestant. Compared to my life in Brazil, in terms of religion, I was now in the mainstream.

Finally, for the past eighteen years, I have lived and worked immersed in the Mexican and Mexican-American communities of San Antonio, Texas. From 2003 to 2020, I taught music and worship courses at a small Hispanic Baptist college and since 2008, I have been a member of a bilingual Baptist church and use the Spanish language on a regular basis, directing both the church's congregational music and its choirs. Here again, my Baptist identity is central to my day to day living but so is my experience as a member of a religious minority in Brazil. Although there are many Baptists in San Antonio, most Mexican immigrants and the Mexican Americans here are Roman Catholic.

One common thread linking all these experiences is congregational music: the hymns I learned in Brazil I now sing in the United States, both in English and in Spanish. The North American missionaries who established the Baptist denomination in Brazil did take their music along with their doctrines. Baptists in Mexico, around the same time, were taught the same repertoire by the American missionaries who crossed the Southern board of the United States.

Interestingly, the members of my congregation in San Antonio do not question the origin of the music we sing in our worship services; neither did my fellow church members in Brazil. To the members of both communities, the hymns and songs that comprise their congregational music may indeed have been written by foreign authors and composers, but that does not prevent them from claiming those hymns as "their own." The repertoire of *Cantor Cristão* played a vital part in my formation and development in a Portuguesespeaking Baptist church in Brazil; this same repertoire, sung in English or Spanish, continues to be a part of my congregational life in the United States today.

Three particular concepts helped me in my consideration of the place of *Cantor Cristão* in the life and identity of Brazilian Baptist congregations: musical localization, "negotiation of proximity," and "the ethics of style."

In *Making Congregational Music Local in Christian Communities Worldwide*, editors Ingalls, Reigersberg, and Sherinian define musical localization as "the process whereby Christian communities take a variety of musical practices—some considered 'indigenous,' some 'foreign,' some shared across spatial and cultural divides; some linked to past practices, some innovative—and make them locally meaningful and useful in the construction of Christian beliefs, theology, practice, and identity."3 This concept suggests a dynamic approach to understanding the very complex interactions that occur in transnational musical encounters and exchanges.

Ethnomusicologist Timothy Rommen's complementary notions of "negotiation of proximity" and "the ethics of style" provide a helpful framework for our discussion of *Cantor Cristão*'s significant place in Brazilian Baptist life, as well as for our understanding of the history of mission hymnody.4 Missionaries introduced new elements in Brazilian cultic life such as graded choir programs and the use of hymnals, along with an organizational behavior framework that contrasted with the local culture. These practices are connected to what Kimberly Jenkins Marshal refers to as Protestant moral modernity and Webb Keane terms the "moral narrative of modernity," practices that "highly value the written word, order, cleanliness, and other material manifestations of modernity."<sup>5</sup> This characterization resonates with the Protestant ethos I was taught growing up as a member of a Baptist community in Brazil, which valued orderliness, purity, self-improvement, and individual responsibility.

Rommen's "ethics of style" and "negotiation of proximity" concepts are particularly useful in explaining many of the congregational music choices in my past and present cultural contexts. His "ethics of style" "focus attention on the process by which style becomes the vehicle for a multifaceted discourse about value and meaning, but also identity formation."6 He also suggests that embracing a repertoire with foreign, far-away origins (in the case of Brazilian Baptists, mission hymnody translated into Portuguese), allows the locals to sidestep immediate and potentially problematic associations while also connecting the local congregation with the invisible, universal church.

These concepts foreground the phenomenon of individual agency, which is central to my view of the missionary enterprise: a view that is not blind to issues of power, ethnocentrism, and wealth, but makes room for a robust examination of all capital transfers and investments (economic, cultural, and social).<sup>7</sup>

I organize the paper into three sections. First, I describe the Brazilian context surrounding the origins of the hymnal; next, I provide a brief history of the hymnal including information on content, editions, editors, writers, translators, and composers. In the final section, I apply the concepts proposed by Ingalls et al. and Rommen to explore possible reasons for the acceptance of *Cantor Cristão*'s imported repertoire by Brazilian Baptists.

#### **2. Historical Background**

In order to understand the history of *Cantor Cristão*, it is first necessary to consider the historical context in which this hymnal was published in the last decade of the nineteenth century in the city of Recife in Northeast Brazil. Following the short-lived presence of the Huguenots in Rio de Janeiro (1555–1560) and the frustrated attempt of the Dutch to establish a colony in Northeast Brazil (1630–1654), Protestantism began to take root in Brazil during the reign of Dom Pedro II (1825–1891).<sup>8</sup> Especially after 1850, political and economic reforms, immigration policy, and the tight control that the state exerted on the Catholic Church (interfering "even with the Church's most basic functions such as formation and maintenance of a competent clergy and the effective religious instruction needed to guarantee the doctrinal orthodoxy and doctrinal purity in the country") together formed the context in which Protestant groups began their work in Brazil.9

During that period, the country actively recruited immigrants from Europe and North America, even offering to pay for their travel expenses. As a result, whereas only an estimated 2072 immigrants arrived in Brazil around 1850, in 1888 alone, their number increased to 133,253. Furthermore, between 1891 and 1900, an average of 112,500 immigrants arrived in Brazil every year.<sup>10</sup> Only a small number of the new immigrants were Protestant; protected by imperial laws, these few Protestants were free to practice their particular form of Christianity in their new home country of Brazil.11

This was the South American field that Robert Reid Kalley (1809–1888) and his wife Sarah Poulton Kalley (1825–1907) entered in 1855.<sup>12</sup> A self-financed Scottish medical doctor, Kalley was an experienced missionary who had already served on the Island of Madeira (where he had learned Portuguese), in Ireland, Malta, Palestine, the United States, and England.13 His first wife died while they were in Palestine (she was buried in Beirut), and soon after he married Sarah Poulton, a wealthy "linguist, musician, painter, poetess, and Sunday School teacher."<sup>14</sup> In 1858, they established the *Igreja Evangélica Fluminense*<sup>15</sup> ("Fluminense Evangelical Church") in Rio de Janeiro, the first Portuguese-speaking Protestant church in Brazil.16

Foremost among the many accomplishments of the Kalleys in Brazil is the preparation and 1861 publication of the first Brazilian Evangelical hymnal, *Salmos e Hinos* ("Psalms and Hymns"), followed by an 1863 edition with music, *Salmos e Hinos com Músicas Sacras* ("Psalms and Hymns with Sacred Music").<sup>17</sup> These volumes were used by most Portuguesespeaking Protestant groups in Brazil until the publication of *Cantor Cristão* thirty years later in 1891.18

It was also in the second half of the nineteenth century that American immigrants founded the first Baptist church in Brazil in 1871, in Santa Barbara d'Oeste, in the state of São Paulo. That church, however, was established by and for American immigrants (also known as "Confederate exiles") who had established a colony in Brazil after the American Civil War.<sup>19</sup> Only ten years later did the Foreign Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention decide to send missionaries to work among the Brazilian people outside the American immigrant colony. In 1882, the first Baptist church "for Brazilians" was founded in Salvador, Bahia, with five members: Southern Baptist missionaries William Buck (1855–1939) and Anne Bagby (1859–1942), Zachary Clay (1851–1919) and Kate Taylor (1862–1892) and one Brazilian convert, Antonio Teixeira de Albuquerque (1840–1887).20 By the end of the nineteenth century, Brazilian Baptist work had reached multiple regions in the country, comprising fifty-eight congregations (twenty-three of them fully established churches), with a total of 1524 members.21 Similar to the United States, today there are several Baptist denominations in Brazil. The largest is the Brazilian Baptist Convention, founded in 1907, comprising 1,682,278 members in 9941 established churches and 4905 congregations.22

From the beginning of Baptist work in Brazil, hymn singing has been used not only as a central tool in missions and evangelization, but also as a resource for Christian education and devotion. In his doctoral dissertation titled "Early Hymnody in Brazilian Baptist Churches: Its Sources and Development," Isidoro Lessa de Paula discusses the importance early missionaries and Brazilian writers and pastors gave to hymnody.23 Both Anne Bagby and Kate Taylor translated and consistently used hymns as part of their missionary efforts.<sup>24</sup> Hymn singing often served as the means to connect with the Brazilian people and in some cases, to diffuse hostility among the people when they incited trouble against the missionaries, especially in rural regions of Brazil.<sup>25</sup> The significance of hymn writing, translating, and singing is evident in the lives and work of eminent missionaries such as Solomon Ginsburg, author or translator of over one hundred hymns, and William Edwin Entzminger (1859–1930), an American who, in the early 1900s, led the Brazilian Baptist publishing house responsible for the edition and dissemination of *Cantor Cristão*, and who translated or authored seventy-two hymn texts.<sup>26</sup> Likewise, Manuel Avelino de Souza (1887–1962), an early Brazilian pastor, educator, poet, and denominational leader, contributed twenty-six original hymn texts and three adaptations to the hymnal.<sup>27</sup>

#### **3. The Changing Nature of** *Cantor Cristão*

The successful trajectory of *Cantor Cristão* began with Solomon Ginsburg (1867–1927),<sup>28</sup> a cosmopolitan figure and world citizen, who was an Orthodox Jew turned Christian convert whose path traversed Poland, England, and Portugal before he arrived in Brazil.

Born to Orthodox Jewish parents, Ginsburg fled his home in Poland—escaping an arranged marriage planned by his father—and went to England. He was then only fourteen years old. There he lived with his uncle, who also hired him as an assistant bookkeeper.29 However, when Ginsburg converted to Christianity, his uncle made him leave his house and fired him, refusing to recognize him as family.<sup>30</sup> He found shelter in a place called the Home of Jewish Converts, where he learned the art of printing—which turned out to be essential to the work he would eventually do as a missionary in Brazil.<sup>31</sup> After a few years at that institution, Ginsburg felt the need for further Christian education. He attended Cliff College, a branch of the Regions Beyond Missionary Training College, and started working among the Jews. It did not take long for Ginsburg to realize that his calling was to preach "not to the lost tribes of Israel, but to those who know not God, the true God and his Saviour Jesus Christ."32 Soon after, he accepted an invitation from the Congregational Mission to work in Brazil as a self-supporting missionary. On his way to South America, he spent the early part of 1890 in Portugal studying Portuguese. He supported himself by writing and selling tracts against the Roman Catholic Church with incendiary titles such as "Saint Peter Was Never a Pope," and "The Religion of Rags, Bones and Flour."33

Ginsburg arrived in Rio de Janeiro in June of 1890. Once in Brazil, he moved several times around the country and eventually decided to "throw [in his] lot with the Baptists," as he put it. He was baptized again, this time by immersion, and soon after was ordained into the ministry.34 In 1891, he moved to Recife, the capital city of the northeastern state of

Pernambuco, where he published a collection of sixteen hymn texts that became the first edition of *Cantor Cristão*. 35

Although there are no known extant copies of the first three editions of the hymnal, contemporary sources announced their publication and described their contents.36 The monthly Evangelical Newspaper *O Bíblia*, for example, jointly published by Ginsburg and Fernandes Braga in Rio de Janeiro, made reference to the first edition of *Cantor Cristão* (1891) in both its September and October issues. Based on his archival research, Rolando de Nassau speculated that *Cantor Cristão* was published in either July or August of that year.<sup>37</sup> (See Table A1 in the Appendix A section, indicating the contents of the inaugural edition of the hymnal).

The issuing of each subsequent edition of the hymnal, along with its contents, was recorded in *O Bíblia* (later renamed *O Christao)*, <sup>38</sup> and later in the Brazilian Baptist newspaper, *O Jornal Batista*. Nassau, a contributing writer to the denominational paper, published a series of articles listing the various editions of *Cantor Cristão.* He composed those helpful lists based on his own examinations of a variety of sources such as Antonio Neves de Mesquita's *História dos Batistas do Brasil,* Ginsburg's autobiography, *O Bíblia, O Christao,* records from the Brazilian Baptist Publishing House (Casa Publicadora Batista), *O Jornal Batista*, and the writings of Henriqueta Braga.39

The first edition of *Cantor Cristão* contained three hymns that Ginsburg had written in Portuguese; the other thirteen were his translations of hymns written by Fanny Crosby ("Tell Me the Story of Jesus"), Daniel Webster Whittle ("Showers of Blessings"), and Francis H. Rowley ("I Will Sing the Wondrous Story"), for example.<sup>40</sup> The second edition, published in the same year, contained twenty-three hymns, suggesting that the demand for such a publication was high.<sup>41</sup>

The use of *Cantor Cristão* was not limited to Brazil, and sources attest to its transnational influence among Portuguese-speaking Christians. Copies of the third edition were brought to the United States by Methodist Episcopal missionary George Benjamin Nind (1860–1932) to be used by the Portuguese-speaking immigrant communities in New Bedford, Massachusetts.42 Nind had worked for ten years in Brazil as a self-supporting evangelist and teacher; he returned to the United States in 1892.43

Within ten years of its first printing this evangelism-aid booklet with sixteen hymns grew to include 225 hymns. By 1915, *Cantor Cristão* included 450 hymns and in the following decade it grew to 578 hymns. In its 36th edition, in 1971, the hymnal comprised 581 hymns.

Ginsburg himself was responsible for the publication of the earliest editions of *Cantor Cristão,* sometimes using his personal printing press and on other occasions contracting with a local publishing house to produce the hymnal. Thus, the place of publication frequently depended on where Ginsburg was working at the time: Recife, Salvador, Niterói, or Campos, for example. He continued to serve as its editor even after *Casa Publicadora Batista* (Baptist Publishing House), began publishing *Cantor Cristão* in 1903.44 In 1911, The Brazilian Baptist Convention adopted *Cantor Cristão* as the official Brazilian Baptist hymnal, a position it would hold until the advent of a second Baptist hymnal, *Hinário para o Culto Cristão,* in 1991.45

Although the Brazilian Baptist Convention had planned to release the first edition of the hymnal with music in 1915, World War I prevented Ginsburg from making that deadline.46 In 1917, he resigned from his position on the editorial committee due to disagreements with fellow missionary Entzminger, director of the Baptist Publishing House, about the planning for the music edition of the hymnal.47 Despite his dissatisfaction with the manner in which the hymnal's edition was being conducted, Ginsburg continued to work at the *Casa Publicadora Batista* until 1920.48

Preparations for the edition with music finally began in 1922, and in 1923, the Brazilian Baptist Publishing House issued a sampler containing the first fifty-one hymns of *Cantor Cristão.* This was certainly a momentous occasion, given that already in 1907, missionary A.B. Deter included the following paragraph in his report of the Publishing House

submitted to the Southern Baptist Convention: "Brother S. L. Ginsburg has revised and enlarged our Baptist hymn book, the 'Cantor Christao' (Christian Singer), adding over fifty new hymns to it, making it one of the best, if not the best, hymn book in the Portuguese language. We are printing a 10,000-word edition and are praying that the Lord may send us money to print a music edition."49

A comparison between the contents of this sampler and a copy of the eighteenth edition of *Cantor* indicates that the order of these hymns is the same in both publications. I have been able to examine both personally: Seminário Teológico Batista do Norte do Brasil (North Brazil Baptist Theological Seminary) owns a copy of the sampler and A. B. Deter's great grandson, Paul Oliver, lent me Deter's personal copy of the eighteenth edition of *Cantor Cristão*. <sup>50</sup> Furthermore, the 1971 edition I used as I was growing up in Brazil still maintains the same order of hymns. This detail has significant consequences for the connection Brazilian Baptists of many generations have to their hymnal. To this day, in more traditional Baptist circles identifying hymns by their numbers is as common as identifying scripture passages by their chapter and verse: those who are deeply involved in the community will understand; those numbers are ingrained in their memories.

The first complete edition of *Cantor Cristão* with music was finally published in 1924 under the supervision of Ricardo Pitrowsky. This edition also incorporated the textual revisions included in the eighteenth edition of *Cantor* and was labeled as the "definitive text."<sup>51</sup>

Nassau indicates that it is sometimes unclear whether a new publication was in fact a new edition or simply a reprint.<sup>52</sup> Nevertheless, he continues his chronology as follows: 2nd and 3rd editions with music, 1930 and 1935, respectively; 28th in 1941, and 29th in 1954; 30th edition, 1956, with 578 hymns. The next edition available to the public (the 34th) was issued in 1964 and contained 580 hymns. Interestingly, the 31st, 32nd, and 33rd editions circulated only among the Baptist Convention leaders; the 35th edition may simply have been a reprint of an earlier edition.53

In 1971, the 4th edition with music (the 36th edition overall) was published under the direction of missionary Bill H. Ichter. This edition stood out in the long history of *Cantor*. It contained numerous improvements, including corrections in the harmony of hymns, textual revisions incorporating official orthographic changes to the Portuguese language required by a 1971 law, eight indexes (the previous edition had four), and expanded documentation. Ichter was then the director of the Music Department of JUERP (*Junta de Educação Religiosa e Publicações* or Board of Religious Education and Publications, the publishing arm of the Brazilian Baptist Convention, formerly known as the *Casa Publicadora Batista*).54 Several people assisted him with this project, including the Brazilian hymnologist Henriqueta Braga, and music students from the South Brazil Baptist Theological Seminary, under the guidance of missionary Joan Sutton, among others.55

As noted by Carlos Ichter in 1987, "[e]ven if a new hymnal is published, the 1971 edition of the *Cantor Cristão* marked an entirely new direction in Brazilian Baptist Hymnody. The documentation found in its pages will be extremely valuable for any committee wishing to devise a new hymnal. Although [Bill] Ichter made many contributions to church music in Brazil, perhaps none is quite as lasting and significant as the revision of the *Cantor Cristão*."56

In 2007, thirty-six years after Ichter's edition, in commemoration of the centennial of the Brazilian Baptist Convention, a new edition of *Cantor* came out, officially called the "thirty-seventh edition of *Cantor Cristão,* revised".<sup>57</sup> The preface to the hymnal opens with the following quotation: "*Cantor Cristão* is a rich inheritance that belongs to Brazilian Baptists. The hymnal, the second of Evangelical Brazilians (the first, Salmos e Hinos, was published in 1861), appeared in 1891 and its initial edition contained only sixteen hymns."<sup>58</sup> These are the same opening words used in the preface of the 1971 edition, and written by Bill Ichter.<sup>59</sup> The 2007 edition's editors also explained the reason why the Publishing House decided to mark the hundredth anniversary of the Convention by preparing a new, revised edition of the hymnal: "the way we see it, there is no publication by JUERP, in all of its hundred years of existence, that is closer to the heart of our people than this hymnal which, having been edited sixteen years before [JUERP's] creation, has become, since then, one of JUERP's main trademarks."<sup>60</sup> It should be noted that, in describing the revisions adopted in 2007, the editors point specifically to the editorial work done for the second Brazilian Baptist Hymnal, *Hinário para o Culto Cristão*, published in 1991 and seen by some as a threat to the hegemony of *Cantor*. In reality, *Cantor Cristão* has not been replaced by *Hinário*; if anything, it has been renewed by it. Moreover, the 581 hymns from the 1971 edition are all found in the 2007 edition, in the exact same order and with the same numbering.

Commenting on the 1971 edition, De Paula points out that *Cantor Cristão* "contains more than 200 translations or adaptations of American gospel songs by approximately 123 American authors. In addition, there is a considerable body of original hymn texts written by Portuguese-speaking authors set to gospel song tunes. This means that Brazilian Baptist hymnody is almost totally based on the American Gospel song!"<sup>61</sup> This is not surprising if one considers the strong influence of the revivalist styles of Ira D. Sankey on both sides of the Atlantic, which coincides with the work of early Southern Baptist missionaries in Brazil.<sup>62</sup> Brazilian hymnody is not unique in this respect. As noted by Robert Stevenson, "Gospel melodies of the Sankey-Bliss-Stebbins-Doane type have been the staple of evangelical hymnals published for use in mission areas"63, hence the similarities between the content of *Cantor Cristão* and the repertoire I have encountered in congregations of Mexican Baptist immigrants in Texas.

In my ongoing examination of the changing nature and history of *Cantor Cristão*, I have engaged with a variety of sources and perspectives, considering rationales and processes that assured the production and distribution of various editions of the hymnal over a period of more than a century, including the role of publishing houses, national and international initiatives, and institutions. In the following section, I attempt to interpret the facts and events presented thus far, through the lens of musical localization, and the complementary notions of "negotiation of proximity" and "the ethics of style." By keeping an ethnomusicological focus on the interplay of human agency, I hope to shed some light on our understanding of the significant place of *Cantor Cristão* in Brazilian Baptist life.

#### **4. "This Is My Story, This Is My Song"**

In *O Celeste Porvir: A Inserção do Protestantismo no Brasil*, Brazilian historian Antônio Gouvêa de Mendonça indicates that pioneer pastors, evangelists, and missionaries frequently had to settle for sporadic contacts with their congregations given the size of the country, the available means of transportation, and the small number of workers in the "field."<sup>64</sup> In the period between these visits—which could be months, in some cases—these congregations would continue to practice their new faith in spite of the lack of formal religious leadership to instruct and guide them.<sup>65</sup> Mendonça proposes that, in the absence of written liturgies, prayers, creeds, and sermons, hymnals and song collections used by these congregants are in fact indispensable documents in our quest to learn about the history of these early Brazilian Protestants. In the specific case of Brazilian Baptists, there is no better source than *Cantor Cristão* which, in spite of its 130-year history, remains near to heart of the Brazilian people. My ethnographic research in Recife uncovered a number of deep connections between this old hymnal and fellow Brazilian Baptists who readily shared with me their memories of singing hymns from *Cantor Cristão* with relatives at home and with other Christians at church, of reading hymn texts as a way to learn about their new-found faith, of finding comfort when, in a strange place, they recognized familiar melodies. I have also heard testimonies about the importance of the hymnal from Brazilian Baptists from other regions. Recently, a man in his mid-fifties shared that when he first joined a Baptist church in São Paulo, Brazil, he used to read his words-only edition of *Cantor Cristão* while riding the bus to and from work, as a way of exploring both the doctrines and the faith vocabulary of his new church. Being unfamiliar with the melodies of those hymns did not prevent him from engaging this repertoire. On the contrary, he recognizes that his "studying" of hymn texts contributed greatly to his faith formation.

As mentioned above, De Paula stated that "[t]he hymnody of Brazilian Baptist churches, despite contemporary contributions, has remained basically static since 1924, when the first edition with music of the hymnal *Cantor Cristão* was published. The decision not to add new hymns in subsequent editions of the official denominational hymnal has resulted in a partial stagnation of Brazilian Baptist Hymnody and its limitation to a single basic style."66 Given his choice of words—"static," "stagnation," and "limitation"—De Paula's evaluation strikes me as tinged by a certain degree of pessimism. From my perspective, *Cantor Cristão*'s lasting influence is directly related to these features, which could also be described in positive terms: stability, familiarity, consistency. The adoption of *Cantor Cristão* as the official Baptist hymnal in 1911 by the Brazilian Baptist Convention created the conditions for this repertoire to become deeply connected to Baptist life in Brazil.67 With each new edition, more and more foreign hymns were introduced to Brazilian congregations who in turn would embrace them as their own. Even when Brazilian authors did write an original text, it would usually be set to a readily available American hymn tune. This phenomenon is explained by the concept of musical localization, a model that acknowledges that much congregational music that is considered "foreign" or of nonindigenous origins can become locally useful. Recent examination of ethnographic case studies of Christian music-making "show the complex interweaving of political, ethical, aesthetic, and theological rationales in the localization of congregational music, and how musical styles marked as 'foreign' help communities achieve their goals, often of local power negotiation, more effectively than styles understood to be 'indigenous.'"68

For instance, in her research among the Yolngu in Northern Australia, Fiona Magowan has examined the way in which hymns and evangelical songs introduced in the 1920s by Methodist missionaries remain a meaningful element for the Yolngu to this day. Magowan suggests that the musical exchange that took place between the missionaries and the local people could be explained by a series of interrelated processes—encounter, reorientation, reception/agency, and leadership/independence—handled with cultural sensitivity and appropriateness, over a significant amount of time.<sup>69</sup> She concludes that "the practice of hymn-singing has facilitated collectivizing principles of care, concern, and respect for one another, by embodying long-lasting principles or relational continuity between missionaries and Yolngu. Methodist hymns have thus acquired an ongoing significance within Yolngu generations because singing hymn texts evokes personal and spiritual efficacy through emotional relationships of the past[.]"<sup>70</sup>

Similarly, for Brazilian Baptists, the repertoire of imported hymns contained in *Cantor Cristão* was not considered foreign for long; through musical localization these alien melodies and translated texts found in the hearts and minds of Brazilian converts an inviting soil to thrive. "Inviting" is a crucial term here, one that expresses the agency of those who chose to embrace this repertoire and much more. For, along with gospel hymns they chose to accept behaviors, vocabularies, schedules, and the priorities involved in becoming a Protestant, a "*nova seita"* (literally, "new sect"), a "Bibleman," or even a "goat," as some have been called at different times and places.71

In my assessment of this process of transplantation of mission hymnody into the Brazilian Baptist context, I wish to stress three important points. First, Protestant missionaries, Baptist or otherwise, did not displace an "untouched" indigenous culture when they arrived in Brazil in mid-nineteenth century. By then, Brazil had been a colony of Portugal from the 1500 to 1822, when it became an independent empire; Brazilians spoke Portuguese, and Roman Catholicism was the religion of the land. Thus, the goal was not converting Brazilians from "paganism" to Christianity but rather from Roman Catholicism to Protestantism.72 Second, Protestants did not form a homogenous block. For example, Ginsburg's decision to leave the Congregationalist denomination and become a Baptist was not made lightly. His description of this change reads almost like a new conversion experience,73 hence the importance of *Cantor Cristão*'s status as the first official hymnal of Brazilian Baptists, and the only one for 100 years. In this role, *Cantor Cristão* not only preserved a highly stable repertoire but also functioned as an emblem of the Baptist denomination in Brazil. Third, because Brazilian churches do not have hymnals available to those attending services; each person purchases his or her own copy. My research has confirmed the significance of personally owned copies of *Cantor Cristão* that hold great value for their owners, where names of family members and dates of important events are recorded, lovely dedicatory notes are handwritten, and pictures are kept, so that the book itself functions as a keepsake. As noted by Christopher N. Philips, personal copies of a hymnal could "have a talismanic power for many owners, creating a bond through hand, eye, and voice to God, to worshiping communities, to friends and neighbors, and to family and departed loved ones."<sup>74</sup>

Considering mission hymnody in the context of mission history is also instrumental in providing a more nuanced view of this repertoire. As noted by Dana L. Robert, "mission history is the story of those who spread the gospel message, and those who respond to it. The missionaries and converts are like the two sides of a bridge, the anchors for the span across which faith travels."<sup>75</sup> Lamin Sanneh's distinction between proselytes and converts also highlights local agency in the process of conversion: "Converts were not cultural orphans or undiscriminating neophytes; rather, by virtue of the choice they made, converts were involved in judgement and discernment at the same time that they were involved in appropriation and assimilation."<sup>76</sup> Missionized Brazilian Baptists embraced Christ's command to "go into all the world," understanding that no Christian was exempt from the work of missions. They sent their first home missionary in 1899 and, in 1911, their first international missionary was sent to Portugal.<sup>77</sup> In this context then, examining "the forces on the ground," as suggested by Sanneh,<sup>78</sup> may help us calibrate the characterization of Christianity as a "henchman of colonialism," and Christian missions as "a tool of Western domination."79 Successive generations of converts as well as those brought up within the Brazilian Baptist tradition have affirmed again and again that the hymns contained in *Cantor Cristão* were eminently useful for their individual and corporate spiritual lives.

Timothy Rommen's complementary notions of "negotiation of proximity" and "the ethics of style" are also connected to the process of musical localization, and I believe these concepts may shed some light on the lasting appeal of mission hymnody to contemporary Brazilian Baptists. To explain the widespread appeal of North American gospel music among Protestants in Trinidad, Rommen describes the "negotiation of proximity" as "an exercise in deflection and disfiguration whereby the near is made far and the far becomes immanent and useful."<sup>80</sup> Styles that are local have problematic associations that lead to division within and among churches, who do not agree on local styles' acceptability or appropriateness for worship; however, styles and songs coming from a geographical and cultural distance are embraced because they lack these problematic associations. Thus, the North American origin (far) of the predominantly gospel hymnody that comprises the repertoire of *Cantor Cristão* made it automatically "superior" to, or "holier" than, any indigenous songs produced locally (near). Because missionaries, evangelists, and pastors were the ones introducing this repertoire in the context of a worship service, Bible study meeting, or an evangelistic campaign, the only association Brazilians had with this repertoire was exactly that. As missionaries, evangelists, and pastors baptized believers into Protestant communities, their songs were "baptized" as well.

In addition, according to Rommen "[s]tyle [ ... ] is an important vehicle through which individuals reaffirm or change (articulate) the status of their relationship to community. The ethics of style is thus intended to focus attention on the process by which style becomes the vehicle for the multifaceted discourse about value and meaning, but also about identity formation."81 The appeal to make a decision to accept Christ's salvation, the "altar call," so characteristic of Baptist services, included the understanding that in order to follow Jesus one needed to abandon the "things of this world" (*coisas mundanas*), adopting a radically different way of living. In the case of Brazil, among the most obvious changes in behavior would be the allegiance to a close-knit congregation, consistent church attendance, the serious study of scriptures, hymn singing, and the rejection of drinking, smoking, and dancing. Witnessing would also be encouraged and one of the simplest ways to do so

would be to adopt the visible signs of carrying a Bible—and frequently a copy of *Cantor Cristão*—in public.

#### **5. Conclusions**

In 1891, pioneering missionary Solomon Ginsburg used his printing skills and emergent knowledge of Portuguese to compile and publish a booklet containing sixteen hymns he titled "*Cantor Christão*."82 This modest collection eventually became the first official Brazilian Baptist hymnal, and the only one for the next one hundred years. For most of the twentieth century, the Bible and *Cantor Cristão* stood as the two essential religious artifacts in the lives of devoted Brazilian Baptists, and although only one of those books had the word "sacred" written on its cover—*Bíblia Sagrada* (literally, sacred Bible)—in practice these volumes shared a similar status.

The immensely popular nineteenth-century North American hymnody, already embraced by Ginsburg even before his arrival in Brazil from England via Portugal (thanks to the Moody–Sankey evangelistic campaigns), represented the preferred style to which Baptists would subscribe as yet another sign of their distinct religious identity. That this music came from afar lent it this "otherworldly" quality and set it apart from the "secular" music of the predominantly Catholic social context from which Baptist converts walked away. Consequently, it is essential that anyone attempting to evaluate this particular repertoire consider, in addition to any of its textual-musical-theological features, the specific religious minority context in which it has been used in Brazil for over 130 years.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Institutional Review Board Statement:** Not applicable.

**Informed Consent Statement:** Not applicable.

**Data Availability Statement:** Not applicable.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The author declares no conflict of interest.

#### **Appendix A**

**Table A1.** Hymns in the first edition (1891) of *Cantor Cristão83*.



#### **Table A1.** *Cont.*

#### **Notes**


#### **References**

Anderson, Justice C. 2005. *An Evangelical Saga: Baptists and Their Precursors in Latin America*. Longwood: Xulon Press.

Blackburn, William M. 1860. *The Exiles of Madeira*. Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication.


Courier Journal Job Printing Company. 1889. Fifty-Fourth Annual Report of the Foreign Mission Board—Southern Baptist Convention. In *Annual of the Southern Baptist Convention*. Louisville: Courier Journal Job Printing Company.

Crabtree, Asa Routh. 1937. *História dos Baptistas do Brasil: Até o Anno de 1906*. Rio de Janeiro: Casa Publicadora Baptista.


Ginsburg, Solomon L. 1922. *A Wandering Jew in Brazil*. Nashville: Sunday School Board of the SBC.


## *Article* **Beyond Translated vs. Indigenous: Turkish Protestant Christian Hymnody as Global and Local Identity**

**Jeremy Perigo**

Worship Arts Department, Dordt University, Sioux Center, IA 51250, USA; jeremy.perigo@dordt.edu

**Abstract:** At Turkey's first national worship conferences in 2011, a passionate debate arose on whether Western music or indigenous Turkish music was most appropriate for worship. Some Turks felt that the Western missionaries were imposing indigenous musics on Turks as a type of "reverse colonization". They felt that the current Western musical styles were best for worship. One Turk stated, "the saz is being forced down our throats". Other Turks felt liberated to sing and play songs in traditional Turkish musical styles. The debate at the conference highlights the desire of missionaries and Turks to see renewal in congregational hymnody. Nevertheless, the Western vs. indigenous Turkish music debate reduces complex historical, musical, and liturgical issues into a divisive binarism. Using hymns sung in corporate worship in Turkey as a source, I will analyze here the quantity of musical localization in Turkish Protestant worship seeking to present musical localization as a lens to examine Turkish Christian liturgical identity.

**Keywords:** Turkish Christianity; musical translation; contemporary Christian worship music; hymnody; missiology; liturgical identity

In late 2011, a passionate discussion arose at one of the first national worship conferences in Turkey. The debate considered musical styles and genres appropriate for Turkish worship. A breakout seminar entitled "Expressing Our Heart to God, Using Turkish Instruments and Music Styles" was held. During the discussion, a tense debate arose on whether Western music or indigenous Turkish music was most appropriate for worship.1 Some Turks felt that the Western missionaries were imposing indigenous and traditional music on Turks as a type of reverse colonization. They felt that the current Western musical styles were best for worship. One Turk stated, "The saz is being forced down our throats".<sup>2</sup> Other Turks felt liberated to sing and play songs in traditional Turkish musical styles "for the first time in their life".<sup>3</sup> The debate at the conference highlights the desire of missionaries and Turks to see renewal in congregational hymnody. Nevertheless, the debate of Western translations vs. indigenous Turkish music lacks historical analysis critical for understanding Turkish liturgical identity.4

#### **1. Localization, Identity, and Contemporary Christian Worship**

Though some recent scholarship has focused on localization of Contemporary Christian Worship in local Christian communities, limited studies on Christian worship music and identity in the Turkish Protestant context exist (Whittaker 2019; Clark 2012). The interplay of Western hymnody and indigenous worship identity featured in this volume, "Language Translation in Localizing Religious Musical Practice", is gaining interest from ethnographers, ethnomusicologists, and theologians. Broadly, Ingalls, Landau, and Wagner highlight that "(m)usic often serves a central role in processes of identification within religious communities because collective music-making allows for the negotiation of religious identities in dialogue with those of race/ethnicity, national and religious affiliations, generational difference and denominational or parachurch affiliations".<sup>5</sup> In his research on formation and congregational song in China, Swee Hong Lim observes an "interdependent relationship" between musicking and community. He states, "In this relationship, the

**Citation:** Perigo, Jeremy. 2021. Beyond Translated vs. Indigenous: Turkish Protestant Christian Hymnody as Global and Local Identity. *Religions* 12: 905. https:// doi.org/10.3390/rel12110905

Academic Editor: Edward Foley

Received: 16 August 2021 Accepted: 15 October 2021 Published: 20 October 2021

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2021 by the author. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

community relies on musicking for its construction, while the relevance of musicking is authenticated by the community's continued use" (Lim 2017). A local community's expression of belief and identity through the singing of songs from outside their context may not fit into tidy geopolitical or regional identifiers, such as Western vs. indigenous; instead, the localization of congregational song reflects what Marcell Steuernagel calls "messiness" (Steuernagel 2021, p. 155). In viewing congregational song as a performance ritual within cultural contexts, Steuernagel uses "messiness" to "recognize the fluidity of the cultural flows that result from play in the context of church music" (Steuernagel 2021, p. 155). Ingalls, Reigersberg, and Sherinian propose "musical localization" as a category to view the diverse "process Christian communities worldwide adapt, adopt, create, perform, and share congregational music" (Ingalls et al. 2018, p. 13). They define musical localization as "the process whereby Christian communities take a variety of musical practices—some considered ''indigenous", some ''foreign", some shared across spatial and cultural divides; some linked to past practice, some innovative—and make them locally meaningful and useful in the construction of Christian beliefs, theology, practice, and identity" (Ingalls et al. 2018, p. 13). Taxonomies such as Western or indigenous or even hybridity are inadequate in characterizing the relationship between the origins of songs sung and the worship identities within a local congregation.

Resonating with this research, Fiona Magowan's study of Yolngu in the northeast Arnhem Land of Australia reveals that though the Yolngu's musical worship emerged from the hymnody and liturgy of Methodist missions, a charismatic revival in 1979 on Galiwin'ku significantly altered the style of worship and hymnody of this indigenous people (Magowan 2007). Influenced by these circumstances, the songs presented by Yolngu at worship rallies embody both local and global identities. Magowan points out:

On the one hand, many of the songs performed come from a non-Indigenous charismatic tradition and present universal and generic ideas of Christian love, belonging to community, and care for one another. These songs are positioned beside a translocal tradition of Indigenous Christian composition that is shared across communities of the Arnhem Land region. (Magowan 2007, p. 471)

A dichotomy of Western vs. indigenous hymnody seems to be minimized in the postrevival Yolgnu context, where Yolngu find identity and meaning through local worship music and music from outside their community. Magowan writes, "The absorption of a universalist body of contemporary Christian music by Indigenous Christians means that they can participate in a worldwide arena that offers the potential for reconciliation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous groups and that speaks to their own experience of charismatic song" (Magowan 2007, p. 478). Yolgnu participate in the songs and sentiments of a global Christian worship movement, yet simultaneously, they find local expressions of worship identity through localized hymnody.

Studies of Turkish Protestant hymnody and identity are scant; therefore, this article is an initial inquiry into the negotiation of worship identities within Turkish Protestant churches investigating the origins of congregational song in local churches. In recent scholarship, liturgical scholars and historians examined popular worship songs to elucidate theological beliefs and liturgical theologies through UK and USA CCLI lists.(Wood and Walrath 2007; Thornton 2021) Within the Turkish context, no such copyright administrator or relevant data exists. Instead, data from a 2011 survey of eighteen churches' songs sung in corporate worship along with data from *Worship Leader (Turkish)* electronic hymnal, served as sources to analyze musical localization. This paper serves as an extension of the study of contemporary praise and worship music and identity to aid in locating the cultural flows related to congregation song within Turkish Protestant Christianity.

Using hymns sung corporate worship in Turkey as a source, I will analyze here the quantity of localized songs in Turkish Protestant worship in eighteen churches in 2011. Interviews with Turkish worship leaders and foreign ministers serving in Turkey will illustrate and refine the character of localization in this song analysis. Through a historical review of the multi-faceted tensions in musical style and identity during the musical

"reforms" at the founding of the Turkish Republic, along with discussion on the cultural and musical environment of Turkish Protestant worship, I will establish "localization" as a viable lens for viewing Turkish hymnody.

#### **2. Identity Reform or Repression? Musical Tensions at the Birth of the Turkish Republic**

Western music has influenced traditional Turkish music for the past two centuries as Western performers were invited to play for the Sultans. Sufi Dervishes experimented with the piano in the Sema, and Turks quickly adapted operetta, tango, and jazz during the late Ottoman period (Stokes 2011, pp. 18–19; Öncel n.d., pp. 25, 30 and 82). However, the most striking reforms in traditional Turkish music occurred in the 1920s and 1930s as part of the cultural reforms during the birth of the modern Turkish Republic. As the new Turkish Republic was being formed, radical reforms in Turkish culture were instituted to modernize what was left of the Ottoman Empire. Under Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the founder and first president of Turkey, political, cultural, religious, and economic reforms were quickly instituted to create a secular, modern nation. Modern Sufi musician, Kudsi Erguner, writes, "This very new Republic was trying to involve itself in new cultural forms, and to take European culture as a model" (Erguner 2005, pp. 38–39). The attempts to Westernize and Europeanize Turkey were swift. Erguner continues, "We Turks did not have the time to go through all these stages of evolution (at least this is what was commonly claimed by the elite). We had to catch up and assimilate at once to obtain the beneficial effects of progress" (Erguner 2005, p. 39). Ataturk's reforms were extended to Turkish music, as he and Ziya Gökalp attempted to define and create a new national music (Bates 2011, p. 75).

As part of the musical reforms, by 1925, Ottoman art music and the Islamic Sufi music of the Dervish lodges were officially banned (Bates 2011, p. 34). The reformers desired to adapt Ottoman classical music to resemble Western music. In a 1934 address to Parliament, Ataturk stated:

A measure of the change undergone by a nation is its capacity to absorb and grasp a change in music. The music that they are trying to get people to listen to today is not our music, so it can hardly fill the bill. We must not lose sight of this fact. What is required is the collection of national expression that conveys fine thoughts and feelings, and without delay, putting it to music, along the lines of the most modern of rules. Only in this way can Turkish music rise to take its place among the music of the world.<sup>6</sup>

The reforms aimed to create a Turkish national musical expression that would be respected by the world. Gökalp stated, "If only our national culture welds with our new civilization (the West) can one speak of a national music".<sup>7</sup> This desire led to a twentymonth radio ban of Turkish music from 1934-1935, where only Westernized Turkish music could be played.8 Of the new music, Bates writes, "In contrast to the music's traditional small-ensemble aesthetic, new government-sponsored performances and radio broadcast involved large, heterogeneous ensembles of Turkish and Western art-music instruments" (Bates 2011, p. 34). In addition to the changes of art music and the banning of the Dervish lodge, Turkish folk tunes were collected, reharmonized, and notated according to Western musical conventions. Erguner criticizes the reforms stating that "this solution meant denying the whole of our true cultural, literary and musical heritage" (Erguner 2005, pp. 38–39). While some Turks resonated with Ataturk's reforms identifying Turkishness with these Westernized forms, many did not embrace the musical reforms and continued to listen to and perform traditional Turkish music while others began listening to Arabic music.9

A 2008 Turkish satirical short film directed by Sinan Çetin entitled *Mutlu Ol! Bu Bir Emirdir!*<sup>10</sup> highlights this deep-rooted musical tension within Turkish culture as Turkish soldiers break into a traditional home where musicians are performing traditional music. At gunpoint, they force the musicians to stop playing *halk türküsü*, a style of Turkish music. The Turkish soldiers then proceed to demand that the musicians can only play compositions by Western composers. The soldiers humorously mispronounce the names of the composers Chopin, Verdi, Wagner, and others as they read a list of government-approved music. The saz player proceeds to play Beethoven's *Ode to Joy* as a *halk türküsü.* The singers join in, and the soldiers begin dancing and singing in traditional forms. The film ends by stating, "The political authorities that forbid people's music, culture and lifestyles have always fallen into an awkward position against life itself".11 The film highlights the tension in Turkish culture. Many perceived these actions as important reforms in Turkish music and cultural identity, while others felt the actions were a repression of genuine Turkishness. Nonetheless, from within this tension of Western vs. indigenous, new musical forms have emerged that, for many Turks, are deeply embedded into their Turkish identity.

#### **3. Turkish Musical Fusion, Localization, and Cultural Identity**

Although not fully embraced, the musical reforms of Ataturk and Gökalp have had a strong impact on Turkish music today, Tekeliogul writes:

On the one hand, the cultural policies of the young republic that had been imposed by the political powers, and, on the other, a handful of skilled musicians and their listeners from a traditional background that resisted the policies imposed from above. It is within these politico-cultural dynamics that the modern popular music of Turkey has developed.12

Today's Turkish music includes every popular style and genre of the world. Stokes does not see this adaption and embrace of popular music as a Western vs. Turkish musical dichotomy but asserts, "(m)ass–mediated popular culture, and popular music in particular, has played an important role in sustaining public life in Turkey" (Stokes 2011, p. 3). He states, "To create a Turkish jazz (or tango, or hip-hop, or electronica) is not simply to import something (and thus recognize a lack), but to exercise and enjoy mastery in rendering it Turkish" (Stokes 2011, p. 20). Similarly, Bates writes:

Ever since the first recordings were made in Turkey in the early 1900s (and perhaps much earlier), musical styles influenced by foreign popular musics of the time have thrived in urban Turkey. However, musicians in Turkey have rarely simply imitated foreign musical styles, but instead create fusions of Anatolian traditions and/or art musics with foreign musical elements. (Bates 2011, p. 73)

Musical styles originating in the West, such as pop, jazz, hip hop, and rock, are popular in Turkey and cannot be fully considered "foreign" or "Western" anymore. As music is localized, these styles of music become central in defining and expressing Turkish identity.

For over a hundred years, Western music styles have been a part of the musical context of Turkey and have been adapted, rearranged, and fused with traditional Turkish music. Although similarities exist between the Western and Turkish counterparts, the Turkish styles are also unique in their language, metaphors, instrumentation, melody, harmony, and rhythm. For example, Turkish pop is often quite distinct from American pop in instrumentation and rhythm. Frequently, traditional Turkish melodic motifs are included in Turkish pop that would not suit American pop.13 A Turkish fusion of musical genres does not neglect traditional Turkish music but adapts it to Western conventions or adapts Western styles to Turkish styles.

Traditional Turkish music, both *sanat müzi ˘gi* (Turkish urban art music) and *halk müzi ˘gi* (Turkish folk music), continues to be popular. However even these traditional styles have been influenced by Western and Eastern music. Historically, these influences have not primarily been a result of colonization or foreign importation but through the localization of Western musical conventions introduced by Turkish leaders and musicians. The debate in 2011 between missionaries and Turkish church leaders about Western translations vs. indigenous hymnody reduces multifaceted issues into a binarism and rarely takes into account the musical reforms of Ataturk or the cultural significance of localization. Within this complex cultural reformation, the Turkish Protestant Church has begun to emerge with its own translated and original hymnody.

#### **4. Translations and Identity in Turkish Protestant Worship Music**

Turkey is a modern secular state with a Muslim majority, and less than 0.1% of the population is Christian (Alliance of Protestant Churches Turkey 2010). Although Protestant missionaries were active within the Ottoman empire, they focused on working with and sometimes converting Armenians and Greeks to become Protestant (Akgün 1989). The modern Turkish Protestant Church is young and relatively small. James Bultema estimates that there are 4000 Turkish Protestant believers in 115 churches with two-thirds of these Christians being Muslim-background believers and one-third coming from historic Christian traditions (Bultema 2013, pp. 4752–54). Although growing, a movement of fewer than 1500 believers from a Muslim background can easily go unnoticed in a nation of nearly eighty-million people. Within the Islamic socio-religious milieu and growing Turkish nationalism, where the mantra "to be a Turk is to be a Muslim", questions of cultural belonging exist as these new Christians attempt to live out their faith (Stiller 2018, p. 188; See also Ça ˘gaptay 2006).

Bultema traces the translation of the Bible as key to understanding the rapid growth in the Turkish Protestant Church where the New Testament was translated into modern Turkish in 1988 and the entire Bible in 2000 (Bultema 2013, p. 4779). Although this movement's growth rate has, at times, even surpassed the population growth rate of the country, Turkish Protestant Christianity has not yet been embraced by many within Turkish society, which is primarily identified as secular, nationalistic, and Islamic. According to, Soner Ça ˘gaptay, " ... Christianity is viewed as alien by the larger Turkish society" and is "a painful situation for the country's small Christian communities" (Ça ˘gaptay 2006, p. 1). Within public media, there is often little recognition that there are Christians or pastors, from a Turkish background; instead, Christianity is seen as a foreign import. In Esra Özyürek's view, "there is a national campaign against Christian missionaries and Turkish Christians in Turkey" where a fear of converts to Christianity is fueled by radical nationalist (Özyürek 2009, p. 102). She states, "Nationalist political leaders and activists have accused the Christian/Western powers of trying to conquer Turkey from within by converting its people away from their religion and culture, and from without by annexing Turkey and making it part of the (European) Union" (Özyürek 2009, p. 112). Even with a national "anti-missionary campaign" attempting to prevent foreign missionary activity and conversion, Turkish Christians seem to find meaning and identity in the translation and localization of worship songs from foreign writers.

The first officially published Turkish hymnal, *Tanrı'yı Yüceltelim* ("Let us Glorify God")*,* was produced in 1986 and contained a mix of original Turkish hymns, worship songs imported from other Middle Eastern and Eurasian nations, translated traditional hymns, and translated praise songs from the recent Charismatic renewal sweeping American and Europe.<sup>14</sup> Although multiple updated versions of the hymnal have been published over the past two decades, the hymnal can no longer keep up with the growing number of Western translated songs, and there are no future plans to update the hymnal. In 2010, an electronic Turkish hymnal called *Worship Leader (Turkish)* was introduced as a free app for computers, tablets, and smartphones.

Several Turkish worship CDs have been produced over the past two decades. Some of these CDs are even in traditional Turkish music styles of *sanat müzi˘gi* and *halk müzi˘gi*, yet the worship songs on these projects are rarely utilized in worship services outside of the churches that produced them. Two of the most popular projects, *Seninle Babam* and *Sözlerin Bitti˘gi Yer*, feature Western rock music styles with some traditional Turkish instrumentation. The original Turkish hymns from these two CDs are sung in some of the worship services across the country, but more often, as we will show below, translated contemporary worship songs from England and America are sung.

More than one hundred weekly Evangelical worship gatherings occur in Turkey. Although numerous original Turkish worship songs are published on CDs and in the hymnal, the congregational songs used in these Turkish churches are most often Western translated worship songs with guitar and keyboard-driven music. In recent years, the

prevalence and availability of global Christian worship music on YouTube and iTunes have increased the use of Western translated songs in Turkey. New worship songs released by Australia's Hillsong United, the UK's Tim Hughes, America's Bethel Music, and other popular worship bands are available in Turkey the moment they are uploaded to the Internet. Songs are then immediately translated and available for use in Turkish worship services. No longer having to wait for a missionary's furlough or a "bootlegged" copy of a new worship CD, Turkish worship leaders have instant access to the most popular worship songs.

In 2011 a survey of eighteen churches was conducted by a major bookstore to determine the most-sung worship songs.<sup>15</sup> Of these eighteen churches, the top five songs sung originated in USA or the UK and were written in the 1980s or later. Many of the top songs include translations of Integrity Music classics such as "Hosanna",<sup>16</sup> "My Life is In You Lord",<sup>17</sup> and "As the Deer".<sup>18</sup> Of the top seventeen songs utilized, there was only one original Turkish hymn and one traditional Middle Eastern setting of the Lord's Prayer. All the rest were Western worship songs. Three of the top seventeen songs sung came from *Sonsuzluklar Boyunca*, a joint Turkish and Vineyard CD project featuring Turkish worship leaders singing translations of popular Vineyard songs that emerged from the West.<sup>19</sup> The few churches surveyed that did utilize original Turkish hymnody most often sang songs that they had written themselves. Although original Turkish songs exist, these local churches most often chose to sing translated Western worship songs.

Data from the *Worship Leader (Turkish)* electronic hymnal have been collected since late 2012. Although the app cannot measure if a song has been sung in a local Turkish church, data is available for the number of individual devices viewing each song. In 2014, the app had around six hundred users who used the app more than three times per month.20 Of the top twenty worship songs viewed in 2014,<sup>21</sup> ten were originally Western worship songs translated from English to Turkish, while nine were originally written in Turkish though sometimes by non-Turks. The final song was the same version of the Lord's Prayer as mentioned above. This data reveals that the users of this app are viewing both Western and original Turkish worship songs.

Based on the data from the *Worship Leader (Turkish)* app, there is a growing interest in original Turkish hymnody. Still, the data from the 2011 survey of songs sung reveal that many congregations chose to sing Western songs translated into Turkish. In his doctoral research, Douglas Clark found, "Many believers ... seem comfortable singing mostly Western worship songs translated into Turkish" (Clark 2012, p. 107) Those who desire to incorporate local musical styles find it difficult to recruit musicians able to play traditional instruments inside and outside of the Christian community (Clark 2012, p. 148) Both Western and local worship hymnodies seem to have an important role in the worshiping life of Turkish churches. For many Turks, Turkish fusion of global genres is the "music of their heart" finding liturgical identity in the localization of "foreign" hymns.22 Nonetheless, at the same time, other Turks sense God by the Spirit is "giving a new song to Turkey" that is truly "Turkish".23

The tension heightens as many Turkish believers connect the meaning of the styles of music with their performance contexts. For example, some believers object to using the Turkish folk music style because it is associated with the drinking culture experienced in the Turkish bars in which it is performed.<sup>24</sup> Some believers object to Turkish classical music because it is closely related to Islamic Sufi music. Many of these believers see Western translations as neutral and the only appropriate musical style for worship. Some have even indicated that the music of UK Songwriter, Graham Kendrick, is "more anointed" than other worship music.25 Concurrently, a few Turkish pastors such as ˙ Ihsan Özbek and Turgay Üçal are writing songs and releasing new worship albums in these traditional styles.

The complex historical and cultural issues in Turkish music cannot be easily reduced to a divisive binarism of Western translation vs. indigenous. Nevertheless, at the same time, genuine questions that are important to Turkish churches' identity and worshiping life exist.

#### **5. Beyond the Translation vs. Indigenous Hymnody Debate**

The violent metaphor stated by a Turkish believer, who felt that a missionary was shoving a Turkish instrument down his throat, reveals the seriousness of issues in identity and musical worship in the Turkish context. The feelings of another Turk who felt that he had never been able to express his Turkishness in worship highlights a need for more discernment and imagination in local Turkish musical forms.

Attempting to determine a single genuinely indigenous Turkish worship music does not reflect the multi-layered identity of this minority group nor does it recognize the surrounding historical and musical complexities. Clark writes:

Particularly for Turkish MBBs (Muslim Background Believers), 'What shall we sing?' has become an awkward question to answer. Traditional sanat (art) music is urban and elitist. Traditional halk music can be, variously, nationalistic, Alevi, rural, shamanistic, or all four at the same time. The global musics of the Christian world can be too Western in their worldview and expression of Christian faith to be relevant for the Turkish MBB Church. (Clark 2012, p. 106)

The musical worship of this socially persecuted minority reflects a global Christian identity via adapted and translated songs, while also expressing local traditions and musical styles through original songs.

As an important expression of worship, congregational hymnody is an occasion for local communities to identify with and express culture and context. Best states, "Song, almost without exception, is the main musical identifier in any culture" (Best 2003, p. 144). Culture, context, and song are interrelated. Musical styles are often linked with specific cultures and contexts. Moreover, a musical identity of a local church may reflect a global identity finding enormous value and meaning from translocal songs that are localized.26 Viewing Turkish musical worship through the lens of musical localization, rather than the translated vs. indigenous binarism, clarifies Turkish Christianity identity within the larger historical, cultural, and musical contexts. For Christians living in a Muslim-majority context, Turks may find religious identification through musical styles and lyrics originating from outside their local context. In the hymnody utilized in Turkish churches in 2011 and viewed on the *Worship Leader (Turkish)* app in 2014, translated Western worship songs are a fundamental part of a public, corporate expression of Turkish Christian identity in many churches. Musical localization is an essential process that, in the Turkish context, enables a richer understanding of the role. What seems to be foreign musical imports are essential local expressions of corporate religious devotion. Researchers and practitioners should expect that many congregations in Turkey would have a fusion of musical styles and a multiplicity of musical identities consistent with the larger historic musical and cultural trends.

#### **6. Conclusions**

Suggesting that translated contemporary worship songs are not a part of the religious identity of modern Turkish believers ignores the recent musical history of Turkey and the importance of musical localization within a Christian community. This inquiry and song analysis provide a broader scope of the worship identity of Turkish Protestant Christians. Seeing Turkish hymnody through the lens of localization, enables a fuller view of hymns from the other parts of the globe as carriers of meaning and identity within a local community. The use of both global and local worship songs has notable value in Turkish Christian's liturgical identity and musical expression. Adapted and translated worship songs have been a key expression of worship for Turkish believers for decades. Even with a release of new songs written by Turkish believers, one expression of Turkish Christian identity is a common repertoire of translated worship songs shared by believers around the globe.

Within the study of the localization of contemporary Christian worship song, the Protestant church in Turkey provides a unique perspective. Where skepticism of foreign influences is embedded within popular media and public policy, the localization of Western contemporary worship song continues. As a developing movement in a minority context, Turkish Protestant Christians express their Turkishness and their Protestant Christian identity through worship song. In their public Christian worship through the use of localized contemporary songs and original hymns, Turks reflect both a global and local liturgical identity.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Institutional Review Board Statement:** Not applicable.

**Informed Consent Statement:** Informed consent was obtained from all subjects involved in the study.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The authors declare no conflict of interest.


#### **Appendix A. Top Worship Songs from 2011 Bookstore Survey**


#### **Appendix B. Top Songs Viewed on Worship Leader (Turkish) in 2014**



#### **Notes**


#### **References**


Ça ˘gaptay, Soner. 2006. *Islam, Secularism, and Nationalism in Modern Turkey*. New York: Routledge.


Ellis, Christopher J. 2004. *Gathering: A Theology and Spirituality of Worship in Free Church Tradition*. London: SCM Press.

Erguner, Kudsi. 2005. *Journeys of a Sufi Musician*. Translated by Annette Courtenay Mayers. London: Saqi.

Ingalls, Monique M. 2008. Awesome in This Place: Sound Space, and Identity in Contemporary North American Evangelical Worship. Ph.D. thesis, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, PA, USA.

Ingalls, Monique M., Carolyn Landau, and Tom Wagner, eds. 2013. *Christian Congregational Music: Performance, Identity, and Experience*. Surrey: Ashgate.


Lim, Swee Hong. 2017. Forming Christians through Musicking in China. *Religions* 8: 50. Available online: http://www.mdpi.com/20 77-1444/8/4/50/pdf (accessed on 7 October 2021). [CrossRef]

Magowan, Fiona. 2007. Globalisation and Indigenous Christianity: Translocal Sentiments in Australian Aboriginal Christian Songs. *Identities: Global Studies in Culture and Power* 14: 469–70. [CrossRef]

Öncel, Mısra. n.d. *Ottoman Sounds*. Translated by Attilla Eröncel. Istanbul: Boyut Publishing Group.

Özdalga, Elisabeth. 2004. *Sufism, Music and Society in Turkey and the Middle East*. Swedish Research Institute in Istanbul Transactions. Istanbul: Taylor & Francis e-Library, vol. 10.

Özyürek, Esra. 2009. Convert Alert: German Muslims and Turkish Christians as Threats to Security in the New Europe. *Comparative Studies in Society and History* 51: 91–116. [CrossRef]

Redman, Robb. 2002. *The Great Worship Awakening: Sing a New Song in the Postmodern Church*. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Ross, Melanie C. 2014. *Evangelical Versus Liturgical?: Defying a Dichotomy*. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans.

Steuernagel, Marcell Silva. 2021. *Church Music Through the Lens of Performance*. London: Routledge.

Stiller, Brian C. 2018. *From Jerusalem to Timbuktu: A World Tour of the Spread of Christianity*. Downers Grove: IVP.

Stokes, Martin. 2011. *The Republic of Love: Cultural Intimacy in Turkish Popular Music*. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Thornton, Daniel. 2021. *Meaning-Making in the Contemporary Congregational Song Genre*. London: Palgrave Macmillan.

Whittaker, Sue. 2019. A Turkish Musical Insider Case Study: Liturgy, Self-Identity and Spiritual Formation. Available online: https://www.academia.edu/40219633/\_Dissertation\_A\_TURKISH\_MUSICAL\_INSIDER\_CASE\_STUDY\_LITURGY\_SELF\_ IDENTITY\_AND\_SPIRITUAL\_FORMATION?auto=download (accessed on 7 October 2021).

Wood, Robert, and Brian Walrath, eds. 2007. *The Message in the Music: Studying Contemporary Praise and Worship*. Nashville: Abingdon.

## *Article* **A "Sloppy Wet Kiss"? Intralingual Translation and Meaning-Making in Contemporary Congregational Songs**

**Daniel Thornton**

School of Arts and Busienss, Alphacrucis College, Parramatta, NSW 2124, Australia; daniel.thornton@ac.edu.au

**Abstract:** Translation as a form of music localization does not only occur in diverse cultural or lingual contexts, it also occurs within an ostensibly homogenous culture and language. The global genre of contemporary congregational songs (CCS) is written and performed through a variety of theological lenses. Sometimes a theological position conveyed in, or ascribed to, CCS can be problematic for certain local expressions of the Christian faith to replicate without needing to alter lyrics, and/or musical content, or at least reinterpret those lyrics in a way which aligns with their theological understanding. This article explores popular CCS, as measured by Christian Copyright Licensing International (CCLI) which have been either accepted, rejected, reinterpreted, or otherwise altered in order to play their part in defining local (English-speaking) church worship and identity. Translation studies and music semiology are applied to selected CCS to demonstrate this nuanced interpretation of "translation" in the localizing of religious musical practice

**Keywords:** contemporary congregational songs; localization; intralingual translation; music semiology; CCLI

#### **1. Introduction**

The theme of this special issue of *Religions* Journal is "Language Translation in Localizing Religious Musical Practice." Translation proper is understood as requiring a change in language between the source text and the target text, which I expect the bulk of the articles contributing to this special issue will address. However, even within the same language, a form of translation can be necessary. Anyone who has travelled widely would have experienced that the same words in English may convey subtly or substantially different meanings in different settings or cultures or depending upon who, or with whom one is communicating (Brower 2013, p. 3). It is this issue, of intralingual translation and meaning-making with which this paper is concerned.

Some English-language contemporary congregational songs have required either translation or reinterpretation in order to be meaningful and useful within the Englishspeaking context of a local Christian community's worship. Such communities may engage in intralingual translation, although more common is an internal process of what music semiology terms as 'esthesic' meaning-making. The relationship between these two forms of semiotics will be discussed in the methodology section.

These processes of localization are particularly noticeable in contemporary congregational songs (CCS) that contain controversial lyrics, or distinct musical stylings. While this is the case for the examples analyzed in this paper, it should also be noted that more broadly, translation of songs for worship has been driven by missional effectiveness and theological accuracy rather than controversial lyrics. This lens of translation and esthesic meaningmaking regarding English-language CCS within English-speaking churches brings a unique and important contribution to this issue by questioning some of the presuppositions we may have about the difference in localization practices between contexts with an ostensibly homogeneous language/culture and those with different languages/cultures.

**Citation:** Thornton, Daniel. 2021. A "Sloppy Wet Kiss"? Intralingual Translation and Meaning-Making in Contemporary Congregational Songs. *Religions* 12: 874. https://doi.org/ 10.3390/rel12100874

Academic Editors: John MacInnis and Jeremy Perigo

Received: 24 September 2021 Accepted: 9 October 2021 Published: 13 October 2021

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2021 by the author. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

#### **2. Literature Review and Methodology**

Intralingual translation has had a complicated history within translation studies, often being excluded or ignored. However, recent scholarship has begun to re-engage with this facet of translation (Korning Zethsen and Hill-Madsen 2016, p. 693). Korning Zethsen (2009) argues that, " ... the difference in strategies between intralingual and interlingual translation is *a question of degree and motivation rather than kind*" (original emphasis), further stating that "comprehension is a central aim in both kinds of translation" (pp. 808–9). The problem with including intralingual translation within translation studies has been in the definition of translation itself. Korning Zethsen and Hill-Madsen (2016) propose that a concrete but not limiting definition of translation comprises a "source text", a "target text" derived from the source text, and a resulting relationship of "relevant similarity" (p. 705). Such a definition can be applied to the contemporary congregational songs examined below. This definition could even extend to musical alterations in localization practices; however, non-lingual source texts (such as music) are not considered a part of the field of translation studies. It should be noted however that Jakobson's (2004) description of intersemiotic translation does provide for translation from a lingual text to some other form, which could be musical.

Lim and Ruth's (2017) work on the history of contemporary worship notes that one of its defining qualities is "using contemporary, nonarchaic English" (p. 2). Often, that was about creating new texts for liturgical use. However, it was also about a form of intralingual translation, between older, more formal forms of liturgical language and the vernacular forms embedded in the evolution of contemporary congregational songs. While methods relating to intralingual translation frame the initial section of this article, we proceed to a situation where the "target text" is never externalized. In other words, the translation (or perhaps more accurately, the proto-translation) is done internally by the individual or community and does not result in a tangible, or realized derivation of the source text. This is where the field of translation studies is no longer useful. An internal (proto-)translation or interpretation is a meaning-making process and is therefore better connected to the larger field of semiotics.

Music semiology, as conceived by Nattiez (1990), is a three-part dialogical analytical framework. The three meaning-making centers are those of the production milieu (the "poeitic" perspective), the texts themselves (recorded, written, and/or performed), and the individuals who engage with the music as an audience or in this case, congregation (the "esthesic" perspective) (see Thornton 2021, pp. 15–19). It is the esthesic sphere of meaningmaking which might be described as a form of internalized intralingual translation. It is this component of Nattiez' semiological framework that is the focus of the second part of this research, although the other two centers are given some attention. Such an approach is a demonstrable contradiction to Salgar's (2016) assertion that "assessing the poietic or aesthetic levels (of meaning-making) is practically impossible". People, in this case Christians, listen to and/or sing the poetic lyrics of CCS and internally process their meaning according to their own presuppositions, history, education, culture, community and experience in such a way as to arrive at the song's purported theological position. If asked to create a target text, or to externalize their 'translation', there would be a variety of renderings based on multifarious factors feeding into the meaning-making process. Nevertheless, investigation would still be possible.

Among both scholars and popular authors, CCS lyrics have often been negatively evaluated. Two of the most common critiques are that CCS are too 'me-focused' (Dawn 1995, p. 109), and that many of them fall into the category of 'Jesus is my boyfriend' songs (Hussey 2019; Dueck 2017). Empirical analysis of CCS lyrics, however, indicates that over 80% of CCS lyrics contain more references to God than to the worshiper (Thornton 2021, p. 165), and only half the most popular CCS utilize only first-person singular pronouns (I, me, my) (ibid., p. 162), while the other half use either first-person plural pronouns (we, us, our) or a combination. Furthermore, 59% of popular CCS are in the category of Praise/Thanksgiving and 22% are primarily Prophetic/Declarative (ibid., p. 161), neither of

which are oriented towards romantic or intimate lyrics. However, such empirical analysis is irrelevant to a local congregation who instinctively react positively or negatively to a particular lyric or song. The inferred motive or theological frame projected upon the CCS producer from the performer's/congregation's (esthesic) perspective has a greater impact than the poietic intent of the writer/producer, at least in terms of whether the song is meaningful and useful for congregational worship in a local context.

Thus, two facets of translation are explored in relation to CCS below; the externalized intralingual translation (translation studies), and the internalized esthesic meaning-making (music semiology). These are not mutually exclusive. In fact, the esthesic process always precedes any external or formal translation. Before we can utilize alternative language to explain an original text, we must determine what the original text means. Furthermore, when applied to CCS, if a meaning can be established through internal processes that satisfies the theological orientation of the local worship context, then no external translation is required. In other words, the lyrics can remain unchanged. We will commence, however, with the clearest expression of translation, altered lyrics.

#### **3. Intralingual Translation of CCS Lyrics**

One of the highest profile examples of a CCS that underwent an intralingual translation is "How He Loves", written and recorded by John Mark McMillan in 2005, and released on his album, *The Song Inside the Sounds of Breaking Down* (2005). It is worth tracing the history and public discussion surrounding this song to demonstrate the ways in which CCS might ultimately warrant such a translation. In addition, from a semiological perspective, it provides insight into the poietic forces at work in the creation and adaptation of the song.

The original recording contained a final verse, referencing the sudden death of McMillan's friend (Stephen), in which McMillan breaks down in tears which is purposefully captured in the recording. Such publicized vulnerability on a studio sound recording is rare. Normally, the artist would keep re-recording until the vocal is as close to 'perfect' as possible. This is more typical of the capture of a live performance, but even then, it is rare for an experienced performer to break down in tears while singing; so noteworthy, that it became the subject of a Reddit thread (Leahmerone 2017). It was possibly this heart-breaking vulnerability that first engendered the song to the worship band, Jesus Culture, who have celebrated and fostered emotional responses in their worship recordings. McMillan's original recording is the only version which includes the final verse. All future recordings, by Jesus Culture, the David Crowder Band and even McMillan himself, did not contain this very personal, and certainly not congregational-friendly verse.

For this song to have eventually featured so strongly in congregational worship, according to the Christian Copyright Licensing International (CCLI) charts, is confirmation of the porous boundaries between Contemporary Christian Music (CCM) and CCS (Mall 2012, pp. 13–14; Nekola 2009, p. 327). CCM has traditionally been defined as performance-oriented songs in contrast to congregationally oriented songs. Additionally, while various CCM artists have created worship albums, such as Newboys' *God's Not Dead* (2011), these have been acknowledged as a form of genre-crossing, rather than a typical output of the artist/band. That being said, the increasing presence of CCS on Christian (CCM) radio over the past couple of decades has created a conflation of the terms in some recent scholarship (MacLachlan et al. 2021). This is problematic, as it dissolves the distinction between songs intended for enjoyment and engagement by an audience (CCM), and songs which from their outset are intended for co-performance by the congregation (CCS) (Thornton 2021, p. 32). The Christian Music Industry has traditionally maintained these distinctions, signing CCM artists to different labels than worship music producers. However, the distinction is increasingly blurring with more and more artists, like John Mark MacMillan, writing both CCM and CCS, or recording songs that could possibly sit in either or both genres.

Jesus Culture, the worship music band that emerged from the youth ministry of Bethel Church, Redding, California, in the mid-2000s, released their second live worship album in

2007, *We Cry Out.* "How He Loves" led by Kim Walker-Smith, was the seventh track on that album and contained McMillan's original "sloppy wet kiss" lyric (but, as mentioned above, not the final verse). This was the recording that initially popularized the song across many Pentecostal-charismatic churches. It was also the very first video Jesus Culture released on their official YouTube, uploaded on 5 April 2008 (https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=JoC1ec-lYps, accessed on 15 September 2021). YouTube was only beginning to gain a substantial audience by this time, and the early upload of worship songs, especially recordings of the 'live' worship context, to YouTube cannot be underestimated. This video remains one of their highest-viewed songs at 24 million. "Your Love Never Fails", uploaded almost a year later, eclipsed it with almost 40 million views, and "Rooftops", uploaded a couple of years after that, hit 30 million.1 Nothing they have uploaded in the last 10 years, among scores of videos, has achieved anywhere near this level of interaction. The point to be made here is how significant "How He Loves" was for Jesus Culture as a worship ministry, and how their rendition of the song gave it exposure to a much larger audience than McMillan's fan base at the time, while still containing the controversial lyric.

Despite the popularity of Jesus Culture's cover, "How He Loves" did not appear in the CCLI Top 25 (Church Copyright License) charts of the USA, however, until 2010. It reached its highest position of No. 13 in 2012. It was evidently the David Crowder Band (DCB) version recorded in 2009, with a revised lyric, or intralingual translation, from "sloppy wet kiss" to "unforeseen kiss" that finally brought the song to its broadest Christian audience. It is this version, with the translated lyric that is recorded in SongSelect, CCLI's sheet music and lyric repository of represented songs, and thus, the version that is officially licensed to local churches for inclusion in their musical worship.

DCB's ninth studio album *Church Music* (2009), which included "How He Loves", reached No. 1 on the Billboard Christian Album Charts. "How He Loves" was also the first single released from that album. It ascended to No. 8 on the Billboard Christian Song Charts in 2009 and was nominated for Rock/Contemporary Recorded Song of the Year at the 41st GMA Dove Awards. Additionally, it was uploaded to DCB's official YouTube channel on 14 October 2009, and reached 12 million views (https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=TCunuL58odQ, accessed on 15 September 2021). Note that that is still only half the views of Jesus Culture's version. Nevertheless, with the translated lyric, not from one language to another, but from one expression of Christianity to another, the song found a new audience representing a larger portion of CCLI license holders.

In a video interview entitled "David Crowder Explains Why He Changed 'Sloppy Wet Kiss' in 'How He Loves'" (C-Pop Clips 2017), Crowder says he did not change the lyric, but rather asked McMillan to consider changing it from "sloppy wet kiss" to "unforeseen kiss". Crowder's rationale was that, "I want to sing this song at my church", the implication being that with the existing lyric, he could not. He posited that the original lyric caused people to think about a dog's 'kiss' or a baby's kiss, with the inference that for some Christians these have undesirable connotations for worship. Crowder recalls that McMillan did not want to change it at first. The song was already circulating in churches for three years before this translation was mooted. Crowder did not blame McMillan for a 'limiting' original lyric, pointing out that McMillan did not originally write it as a congregational song (but as CCM).

To further understand the poietic processes we turn to McMillan's Blog Post entitled "How He Loves, David Crowder, and Sloppy Wet Kisses ... " (McMillan 2009). McMillan opens by stating "I honestly kind of hate that I even have to write this blog." He goes on to say, "I'm sorry if I let you down by allowing the words to be changed in David's version". In corroboration of Crowder's version of the story, McMillan recalls, "David contacted me and very sincerely asked if it would be cool to change a couple words in his version, because he knew that there are literally thousands of people who would never hear the song the way it was." In other words, the original lyrics required intralingual translation for a large portion of English-speaking Christians to understand and accept the song. Further on, he acknowledges that, "I knew it was only a matter of time before

someone recorded a version with a different line, and honestly, I was glad for David to be the one to do it". The rest of the blog post focuses on how incensed he is that this one line—"Heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss"—would need to be changed in the first place. His final line states, "I applaud David for changing the line to serve his people, and at the same time I boo the machinery that would cause him to have to do so." This is a common catchcry of the 'authentic' rock artist, "let me write the songs I want to write, with the lyrics I choose". There is, of course, an irony in this as the very machinery that such artists eschew is the same machinery that allows them to make a living from their craft and reach their audience. McMillan would have made more royalties from "How He Loves" than any of his other songs, and a good deal of that is due to the "machinery" that brought about this translated version. Furthermore, had he been requested to consent to the song being translated into a foreign language, I doubt it would come with any of the angst associated with this intralingual translation.

McMillan also released his own 'song story' video (https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=M6wl3uqfbYQ, accessed on 15 September 2021), produced eight years after the original writing (although before Crowder's interview documented above). McMillan's video makes no mention of the controversial lyric at all. Rather, he tries to re-orient the song around its initial impetus, the sudden loss of his good friend, and the need for an ongoing fresh revelation of "Love". This video was also released after Jesus Culture and Crowder's cover versions. As mentioned, McMillan additionally released his own official YouTube version of the song on 23 January 2013, maintaining the original "sloppy wet kiss" lyric, although it still did not include the final verse from his initial 2005 audio release. Interestingly, it is also the first video to be uploaded to his YouTube Channel, followed by the "song story" video, clearly acknowledging the significance of this song in his repertoire as a writer and artist, and the public interest in its origins and evolution.

As mentioned, "How He Loves" in its various iterations only ever ascended to the rank of No. 13 on the CCLI charts, which is undoubtedly still a significant achievement. However, it was always unlikely to go much higher, given its emotive and highly poetic language, even ignoring the "sloppy wet kiss" lyric. Furthermore, it never mentions any of the Godhead by name, only the divine "He" and "You". This approach to CCS lyric writing tends to have a limited scope of adoption compared to those that more explicitly acknowledge one or more of the Godhead with common terms such as "God", "Lord", and "Jesus". In fact, only very rarely have songs that do not use some name of the Godhead, entered the Top 25. The only other example of this in recent times has been "One Thing Remains" (Johnson et al. 2010), also popularized by Jesus Culture (Thornton 2021, p. 151).

#### **4. Proto-Translation in Esthesic Meaning-Making**

Controversial lyrics, per se, do not preclude a song from ranking even higher on the CCLI charts than "How He Loves". "Reckless Love", composed by Caleb Culver, Cory Asbury, and Ran Jackson in 2017 reached all the way to No. 1. In Andre Henry's article for Relevant Magazine (Henry 2018), he explicitly links these songs, stating, "Reckless Love" is "2018's *How He Loves*". The controversial lyric this time is in the title itself and appears in the song's Chorus, "Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God". The most-viewed version of this song on YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v= 6xx0d3R2LoU, with 52 million views, accessed on 15 September 2021), posted on Bethel Music's official channel, comes from a live worship recording during their "Heaven Come Conference" in 2017. Asbury, towards the end of leading this song, stops to talk about this particular lyric, clearly in response to comments that had been made regarding its (non-)orthodoxy. While he makes the point that he was not calling God reckless, or even God's love reckless, but rather observing that God's love might look reckless from a human standpoint, the lyric itself does not make that distinction. The influence of the Bethel platform to promote CCS has been growing over the past decade, with at least seven of the current Top 25 songs on the USA CCL charts promoted from that stable. It should perhaps come as no surprise that a potentially controversial song would be promoted from this

platform. As mentioned, it was Jesus Culture who brought the "sloppy wet kiss" lyric to congregational worship.

In this case, however, the popularity of the song despite or perhaps because of its controversy meant that Asbury never needed to consider an intralingual translation of the equivocal lyric. As established, "How He Loves" did not rate in the Top 25 CCLI charts until after David Crowder had released the alternative lyric recording four years after the original. "Reckless Love", on the other hand, debuted at No. 17 in the October, 2017 report, and then surged to No. 1 in the following (April, 2018) report. Churches choosing to localize this song into their worship had to engage in a meaning-making process which resulted in an acceptable theological interpretation of the lyrics.

There are still local congregations who have changed the Chorus lyric, in other words engaged in an intralingual translation of the lyric. A recent Reddit thread included a number of respondents describing various song lyrics they had 'quietly' changed for their local context, including this one (Datxako 2019). Some of the alterations included changing first-person singular pronouns (I, me, my) to first-person plural pronouns (We, us, our). Others were about leaving words out, such as the "yet" at the end of the phrase "For You have never failed me yet" from Elevation Church's "Do It Again" (Brown et al. 2017).

Whether CCS are accepted, rejected, or altered, it is perhaps controversial lyrics that are sometimes most helpful to a Christian community (or individual) to force them to consider and then articulate their theology. Well-worn Christian tropes and re-used worship lyrics, or even sometimes lyrics lifted easily from scripture, may well be meaningful to Christians, but they can also be unreflective. If they sound 'orthodox' then they might be accepted with little further consideration. However, controversial lyrics while initially engendering a possibly negative gut reaction from the congregational singer, also then have the chance to be considered, wrestled with, debated, and ultimately rejected or accepted, or translated, not because they were immediately 'orthodox', but because they were thoughtfully and personally theologically resonant/dissonant.

Of course, it is not only controversial lyrics that might require internal or external translation. It may simply be theologically ambiguous lyrics that require an esthesic meaning-making process to determine if they will be accepted, rejected or translated within a local context.

"Blessed Be Your Name" (Redman and Redman 2002), has been one of the most enduring CCS among churches globally, and staying in the Top 25 of the USA CCLI (Church Copyright License) charts for over 15 years. However, while I was on the advisory council of CCLI Asia Pacific, I had access to denominational reports which indicated "Blessed Be Your Name" had not featured in the Top Songs lists for Pentecostal churches. This was consistent with my own experience as a worship pastor in an Assemblies of God (now Australia Christian Churches) church during this same period where "Blessed Be Your Name" was expressly resisted by senior leadership because of the Bridge lyric "You give and take away". The lyrics are centered around Job 1:21, with the idea of worshiping God through the various circumstances, good and bad, of life. While the Bridge lyric is a direct adaptation of the verse "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away" (NKJV), the theological implications of God 'taking away' was difficult for many Pentecostal churches to reconcile. In many Pentecostal circles it was felt that this lyrical quote from the Old Testament was without due reference to the 'finished work of Christ'. Critics would quote such scriptures as, 'in Christ all of God's promises are Yes, and Amen' (2 Cor 1:20); or that 'whatever we ask in His name, He will do' (John 14:13). For such congregations, the option was either to reject the song, translate the lyrics, or theologically reinterpret the lyrics to align with their beliefs.

In a recent forum post, Phil Williams questions the changing of CCS lyrics, citing two examples (Williams n.d.). One example is the one just discussed, where some churches changed "You give and take away" to "You give and bless the day". The other, is the change of "Heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss" to "Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss" as we have discussed earlier in this paper. Of course, there is one substantial difference

between these two examples, the first was never approved by the song writer, the second, was.<sup>2</sup>

Despite these examples, most local congregations approach CCS lyrics with a generous hermeneutic, interpreting them to suit their theological leanings, without having to change the lyrics themselves. This position is further justified because before a song enters the repertoire of a local church, someone, with authority to do so, has already made the initial decision to accept or reject the song based on its musical and/or lyrical content, or perhaps also sometimes based on its origins. An example of the latter would be congregations who refuse to sing anything by Hillsong (Malm 2014; Aigner 2016; Pastor Explains Why after Researching, He No Longer Allows Hillsong, Bethel, or Elevation Music in His Church 2020). As Ingalls et al. (2018) affirm, musical positioning can take the form of "outright rejection of the musical practices of various Others" (p. 4). If rejection is a primary response to localization, satisfactory internal interpretation is a secondary level of localization, with translation through the alteration of song lyrics being a tertiary, or final, level of localization, if required.

#### **5. Further Poietic Perspective**

While individual song writers may sometimes want to use lyrics that are more ambiguous, poetic, or even controversial, in order to make a particular point, or express an old idea in a new way, it is not the practice of most CCS producers to intentionally include controversial lyrics. There are often vetting systems in place to ensure a contemporary congregational song will reach the widest audience possible (Thornton 2021, pp. 79–80). Some of these 'theological gatekeepers' are officially designated, as Hillsong have done so for Robert and Amanda Fergusson. Others are brought about by the natural production pathways that exist before a song is finally released to the public. Mia Fieldes, a prolific CCS writer with Hillsong, who has also co-written with many of the key CCS writers internationally, noted that before her songs were ever recorded, they had been through myriad vetting channels including other writers, worship leaders, pastors, publishers, and producers (ibid., p. 80). Darlene Zschech, the famous former Hillsong worship leader/pastor, and writer of "Shout To The Lord" (1993), in the same research notes that testing with the local church is the ultimate arbiter of whether a song moves forward into production and broader release (ibid., p. 64).

Ben Fielding, writer of some of the most popular CCS emerging from Hillsong, recalls a story regarding a change in the lyrics of "Mighty to Save" before it was released. He says the original opening lyric was, "Everyone needs compassion, more than just religion". Additionally, he says "Reuben [Morgan] and I thought it was brilliant, it was genius!". However, when presented to Robert Fergusson, he said "I understand what you're saying, but not everyone's going to understand it. And you potentially limit the scope of the song" (ibid., p. 79). The writers relented, and rewrote the lyric as, "Everyone needs compassion, the kindness of a Saviour". Would this extremely popular CCS have been hampered by an opening lyric that said, people need "more than just religion"? We will never know. Certainly, within the context of the contemporary Pentecostal-charismatic church that Hillsong is, the phrase would be clearly understood. In fact, Fielding and Morgan did not invent this language. The idea that 'religion is not what people need' is commonly articulated in such churches. The parallel idea is that only a personal relationship with Jesus Christ is what makes the difference in an individual's life, in other words, not the adherence to a code or set of rules or beliefs (as religion is defined in that setting). In that sense, a lyric that states that people need more than religion is deeply meaningful to the Hillsong congregation. It is a positive lyric, encouraging people to a personal and vital faith. However, it may not have been interpreted in that same way by Christians in other places and contexts and was therefore changed before it could become a 'controversial' lyric that churches might reject or alter.

#### **6. Music Requiring Translation**

Intralingual translation of lyrics, or esthesic meaning-making practices relating to lyrics are not the only form of (proto-)translation in the localizing of musical worship practices. Musical elements are also translated to be meaningful and useful to local congregations. This is most notable with faster CCS. Recent research found that the average tempo for the top CCS was 75 bpm (Thornton 2021, p. 138). In contrast, secular songs charting on Billboard over the past six decades have had an average tempo of 120 bpm (Minardi 2011). Why should substantially slower songs be charting in church's musical worship? Faster CCS often have more defining musical characteristics than slower CCS. For example, the drums of a faster song are likely to be core to its 'sound' and, hence, reproduction. A faster song with no drums, does not sound like it did in the recording. It may no longer have the energy or, for example, capture the essence of the riff that defines the song. Due to these elements, faster songs are also potentially more marginalizing to congregations with diverse ages.

One example of this is with Hillsong Young and Free's (Y&F) CCS. Hillsong Y&F are the third generation of Hillsong worship, preceded by Hillsong United, and the initial Hillsong worship with which the brand was popularized. Y&F's first album *We Are Young And Free* (2013) contained CCS influenced by EDM (Electronic Dance Music). Drum/percussion loops and electronic textures dominated the soundscape. However, despite the album debuting on the US Billboard Christian Albums charts at No. 1, only one song from the album ever made it to the CCLI Top 25 charts, "Alive" (Pappas and King 2012), which reached a high of only No. 23 in October 2014. Admittedly, Hillsong Y&F were not initially attempting to create songs for mass appeal and reproduction in local church contexts. Nevertheless, Hillsong's long history of providing congregational songs to the global church meant many local churches did attempt to reproduce these songs congregationally. However, the ability of a local church to reproduce the sound of "Alive" either required a sophisticated setup of synths and loop machines, or some sort of DAW (digital audio workstation), or pre-recorded multitracks. Indeed, the practice of using multitracks within live worship has increased in recent times, and many churches now utilize an app to playback whatever elements (such as loops and unique electronic sounds) from the original version of songs that they are unable to produce live. In this way, the sonic signature of the song is maintained, even if the worship setting is much smaller or less resourced than the environment in which the song was produced. Such activities are not examples of musical translation.

However, as a result of the disconnect between an album's popularity, and its uptake in the worship of local congregations, Hillsong Y&F began producing acoustic versions of their songs (for example, https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjQwXC30WAsFI4 xjoPUdcDBfPexOeAxCK, accessed on 15 September 2021) in addition to the fully produced (EDM) originals. In other words, Hillsong created their own musical translations of these songs involving only a few instruments and minimal drums/percussion. Is an arrangement always a musical translation? According to the definition established earlier, there needs to be a source text, in this case an original authorized version of the song, a target text, in this case the musical version performed in the local context, and a "relevant similarity", which is clearly evident. The implicit element in this process is the idea that the change has been made to make the 'text' more comprehensible to its audience. Such arrangements are, by that definition, musical translations.

The principle of faster CCS often requiring some form of musical translation occurs well beyond Hillsong Y&F. The six songs over 75bpm in my previous research (including songs such as, "This is Amazing Grace" (Riddle et al. 2012), "Blessed Be Your Name" (Redman and Redman 2002), "The Lion And The Lamb" (Brian et al. 2015), and "Raise A Hallelujah" (Stevens et al. 2018) had full band versions initially released. However, they also had numerous renditions with just an acoustic guitar or paired-back ensemble. The adaptability of these not-too-fast faster songs allowed them to be accepted via a minimal process of musical translation in a variety of local congregation's worship practices.

I consider this kind of translatability and flexibility in CCS to be a form of vernacular music (Thornton 2021, p. 59). While songs in popular music genres may well be re-arranged and re-recorded in acoustic settings, or with paired-back musical forces, such practices are still oriented towards engagement with an audience. Whereas CCS, en masse, are written from the outset to be co-performed by congregations in a wide variety of contexts, containing different musical forces, different levels of musicianship, different cultural inflections, maintaining only the necessary or desirable core elements. It is this vernacular quality that implies permission for local congregations to make musical translations of the songs. While sometimes in tension with the authorized version, or 'preferred rendering', of the song from the perspective of the producer, in this case, the producers had 'authorized' versions (or pre-translated the songs) that made the songs meaningful and useful to local churches.

#### **7. Conclusions**

While translation in CCS is typically understood as the localizing of CCS into a language different from the original version of the song, this research has presented an analysis of CCS that demonstrates that at least a form of translation (musical and lyrical) is at work within English-speaking churches regarding English-lyric songs. The meaningmaking processes that result in acceptance, rejection, interpretation, translation, adaptation, or alteration of contemporary congregational songs are all a part of a local congregation defining and articulating their faith, both to the world around them and in alignment with or contrast to other expressions of the Christian faith.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Institutional Review Board Statement:** Not applicable.

**Informed Consent Statement:** Not applicable.

**Data Availability Statement:** CCLI Top Songs charts are available from: https://songselect.ccli. com/search/results?List=top100.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The author declares no conflict of interest.

#### **Notes**


#### **References**


Dueck, Jonathan. 2017. *Congregational Music, Conflict and Community*, 1st ed. New York: Routledge.

Henry, Andre. 2018. No, Cory Asbury's 'Reckless Love' Isn't Heretical, But Could've Gone Further. *Relevant*. April 3. Available online: https://www.relevantmagazine.com/culture/no-cory-asburys-reckless-love-isnt-heretical/ (accessed on 15 September 2021).


Salgar, Óscar. 2016. Musical Semiotics as a Tool for the Social Study of Music. *Ethnomusicology Translations* 2: 1–33. [CrossRef] Thornton, Daniel. 2021. *Meaning-Making in the Contemporary Congregational Song Genre*. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan. [CrossRef]

Williams, Phil. n.d. 'Sloppy Wet Kiss', or 'Unforeseen Kiss'? 'You Give and Take Away' or 'You Give and Bless the Day'? Available online: https://worshiptherock.com/forum/topics/sloppy-wet-kiss-or-unforeseen-kiss?commentId=2059046%3AComment% 3A547320&xg\_source=activity (accessed on 17 August 2021).

## *Article* **"Translated" or "Transformed": The Use of Western Hymns in the Evangelization of the Lisu of Southwest China**

**Aminta Arrington**

Department of Bible and Ministry, John Brown University, Siloam Springs, AR 72761, USA; AArrington@jbu.edu

**Abstract:** Translated western hymns have a bad reputation in missiology. The term "translated" seems to convey a less than authentic expression of Christian faith. However, that was not how it happened when the Lisu of southwest China were evangelized by missionaries from the China Inland Mission in the 1920s and 1930s. The Lisu people exerted much more agency over their translated western hymns than the term "translated" implies. While the kernel of melody and message remained intact, four-part harmonies replaced unison singing. A cappella replaced piano or organ accompaniment. Phrases meaningful in a Victorian context were transformed into phrases meaningful in a Lisu mountain context. Abstract theological terms were replaced by concrete phrases. Western rhyming schemes were laid aside and Lisu poetic couplets were used instead. The end result is that in the everyday arena, in the practical living out of what it means to be a Christian for a communal and still largely oral-preference people such as the Lisu, the Lisu Christian hymns are the centerpiece of worship and devotion, of prayer and penitence. In other words, in the process of cross-cultural transmission, the Lisu hymns were not so much translated, as they were transformed.

**Keywords:** Lisu people (southwest China); hymns; worship (Christianity); church music; China; missions; minorities; orality

#### **1. Introduction**

The Lisu Easter Festival was approaching.

"Can you teach me an Easter hymn?" I asked Pastor Timothy.

I had been living high above a small village in the Nujiang Valley of China's Yunnan Province with Pastor Timothy, his wife, his parents, and his two daughters as part of my fieldwork studying the Christian faith and practice of the Lisu, one of China's 55 minority groups. In the mornings, he taught me the Lisu language for two hours. In the afternoons and evenings, we took part in the daily chores of farming: gathering tall grasses for the pig slop, planting corn, frying bread or eggs over the open fire in the kitchen, and washing dishes. On Wednesday and Saturday evenings, and three times on Sunday, we all followed the path down the mountain, hymnbooks and Bibles carried in our embroidered Bible bags, to the village for church services, where Pastor Timothy usually preached.

Pastor Timothy chose to teach me hymn number 33 in the Lisu hymnbook, "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross," written by Isaac Watts and first published in *Hymns and Spiritual Songs* in 1707. We started learning the first verse:


Lisu poetry, like much oral poetry, unfolds according to synonymous parallelism, in which meanings flow out in two lines, the second line restating or amplifying the first one. In translating this hymn, the missionaries along with their Lisu translator–helper chose to translate according to the parameters and principles of Lisu oral poetry (Arrington 2015b).

ꓕꓲꓽ ꓧꓳꓽ ꓠꓴ ꓔꓯ ꓠꓲ, ꓜꓳ ꓢꓲ ꓠꓬꓲ-. One group hated you;

ꓕꓲ ꓐꓱ ꓠꓴ ꓔꓯ ꓠꓲ, ꓦꓶ., ꓢꓲ ꓠꓬꓲ-. The other half was angry with you.

**Citation:** Arrington, Aminta. 2021. "Translated" or "Transformed": The Use of Western Hymns in the Evangelization of the Lisu of Southwest China. *Religions* 12: 772. https://doi.org/10.3390/rel12090772

Academic Editors: John MacInnis and Jeremy Perigo

Received: 31 August 2021 Accepted: 13 September 2021 Published: 15 September 2021

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2021 by the author. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

The poetic parallelism meant that the Lisu version of "When I Survey" extends to six verses, unlike the English original, which usually has just four.

ꓠꓴ ꓔꓯ ꓘꓶ., ꓠꓬꓲ ꓦꓲ ꓚ ꓞꓳ, ꓢꓲ-. They slandered you and tied you with a rope;

ꓠꓴ ꓔꓯ ꓙꓵ.. ꓠꓬꓲ ꓢꓲ, ꓓ., ꓓꓶ ꓢꓲ-. They prosecuted you and hit you with a rod.

In fact, the word "cross", appearing in the title and first line of the English version, does not appear until the last line of the third verse in the Lisu version.


In addition to the use of synonymous parallelism, the abstract phrasing common to English hymns is replaced by concrete phrasing in the Lisu version. In verse three of the English version, this line is found:

See from his head, his hands, his feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down.

Such a line is beautiful and appropriate for the context in which it was originally written; it allows hymn singers in highly literate cultures in North America and England to reflect within their own psyche on how the physical and emotional pain of Christ intertwined in the moment of his passion. Oral thought patterns in such cultures as the Lisu, however, do not tend toward such quiet, individual reflection. Rather, important thoughts are expressed and shared, for if not they are lost. They exhibit what Walter Ong called a closeness to the human lifeworld (Ong [1982] 2002, pp. 42, 49). It is not surprising, then, that the Lisu translation of these lines is quite different:

ꓧꓳ., ꓛꓴꓽ ꓕꓯꓼ ꓠꓬꓲ ꓫꓵꓽ ꓓꓳ ꓡ ꓢꓲ-. They hammered you with nails, you bled;

ꓮ. ꓕꓽ ꓗ. ꓠꓬꓲ ꓫꓵꓽ ꓬꓲ ꓡ ꓢꓲ. They pierced your side, blood and water flowed.

Love and sorrow have been replaced by hammers and nails, by blood and water. Rather than allude to the pain, cruelty, and violence associated with the death of Christ, as the English version does in its literary baroque style, the Lisu version lands squarely, shockingly, in the middle of it. Pastor Timothy told me that when he sings this hymn, he truly feels the pain and anguish that Christ went through to save his soul. In the Lisu translation, the cadence and rhyming, the balance and counterbalance, all combine to produce a hymn that appeals to the poetic sensibilities of the Lisu mind (Arrington 2015a).

The Lisu of southwest China were evangelized in the 1920s by missionaries from the China Inland Mission, led by pioneering missionary J.O. Fraser. The Lisu were a musical people, and key to their initial evangelization was the use of translated western hymns. Over the course of two years, from 2012 to 2014, I conducted five months of fieldwork among the Lisu Christians living in the Nujiang Valley of China's Yunnan province. One of my most salient findings was that translated western hymns remain central to Lisu Christian worship.

This is striking, for translated western hymns have long had a bad reputation in missiology. In fact, there are several assumptions about the use of translated hymns in mission contexts. There is the assumption that translated hymns are not meaningful to local Christians (Chenoweth and Bee 1968). It is also assumed that translated hymns represent western missiological hegemony (King 2008). Some have called translated hymns "short cuts" (Nketia 1958). Finally, there is the assumption that translated hymns prevent local people from understanding the gospel (King 2008, p. 5). In fact, the renowned missionary anthropologist Paul Hiebert stated that "Many missions continued to exercise authority, to use translated hymns, and to impose Western forms of church polity, but some encouraged the autonomy of young churches, the use of local music, and the adoption of indigenous forms of church organization" (Hiebert 1994, p. 82). Hiebert places the use of "translated hymns" in a list of three regrettable actions relating to the over-exercise of western control, and the use of "local music" in the list of three more enlightened methods which rightly

give the locals autonomy over their Christian lives. While in general I strongly support Hiebert's assertion that local Christians be given authority over their own churches, I contend in this paper that translated western hymns do not fall easily into categorization as a practice impeding this goal. In fact, the story of Lisu Christianity shows the opposite.

The early missionaries to the Lisu were musicians. J.O. Fraser, an engineer and concert pianist, joined the China Inland Mission (CIM) and sailed for China in 1908. While completing Chinese language studies at the CIM Language School in Anhui province, he met John McCarthy, the CIM superintendent for Yunnan Province, who was visiting the language school to select some missionary recruits for the mountainous province in southwest China. "Send me Fraser, and anyone else you like," McCarthy wired back to headquarters in Shanghai (Fraser 1963).

Upon arrival in Yunnan, Fraser met the Lisu in the local markets and felt immediately drawn to them, although he was scheduled to begin work with the Miao people in the eastern part of the province. Finally, in 1913, the CIM designated Fraser for full-time work with the Lisu. He was a lone western missionary, traveling through the mountains of western Yunnan on the back of a donkey, sitting around fires with his Lisu hosts learning the language and the culture. While he proved an adept linguist and adapted well to Lisu culture, his efforts at evangelization were less successful. By early 1916, he had few converts. At times he would hold Sunday services, and no one would show up (Taylor 1944). Fraser decided that God's time for the Lisu was not yet ripe. He planned to write a letter to the mission requesting a return to his original designation to work with the Miao. "But before I write that letter," Fraser stated, "I will take my final visit round my district. Just one more round" (Conversation with Mr. Fraser 1934, p. 4).

However, in each village he visited on his farewell tour, families upon families approached him ready to turn toward Christ. By the end of 1916, over 120 families had converted, but they had little understanding of their new faith. Fraser took to teaching them hymns as a means of conveying the Christian doctrine. "The hymns are the jam, and the Gospel is the powder to be taken," he said (Taylor 1944).

In 1927, Fraser took on the role of CIM superintendent for Yunnan province. However, though he was no longer itinerating through Lisuland, his presence was still felt. Together with Ba Thaw, a Karen tribesman from Burma, Fraser created a written Lisu script and began work on translating a catechism, hymnbook, and gospel portions. Further, Fraser laid out the three-self principles for the Lisu work based on the writings of Roland Allen, among others (Kuhn n.d., p. 9).1

The first principle was self-supporting, meaning that the Lisu church would support itself financially, and no funds, either personal or from missionary organizations, would be given to the church or to Lisu people. As Leila Cooke stated,

Mr. Fraser charged us very carefully not to spoil the Lisu with gifts or money, and that we should not pay even for the services of a language teacher, as the work was to be entirely self-supporting. We got around the difficulty by asking different ones to give a month each to teaching us, and count it as work done for the Lord. We had a few pocket knives worth about ten cents apiece, and gave one of those at the end of each month as a token of appreciation for the voluntary service rendered. When Mr. Fraser heard of this he wrote us saying, "Please do not reward them even ten cents' worth. Let their labor be entirely for the Lord".

(Cooke 1947, pp. 18–19)

In addition to being self-supporting, the Lisu church was self-governing. As Isobel Kuhn, another second-generation missionary, put it:

The Lisu church, being founded along indigenous lines, was self-governing. The missionary gave advice when asked, and likewise preached only when invited. In each Christian village there was one elected as service leader, and this one wrote down on the blackboard the names of those he wished to preach during

the coming week. If the missionary's name did not appear, he did not preach but sat in the audience while the selected national Christian officiated.

#### (Kuhn [1947] 1995, pp. 134–35)

The third principle was self-evangelizing. Fraser ensured that missionaries remained in the background, usually conducting Bible training for church leaders, and that the Lisu themselves were at the forefront of evangelism. As early as 1919, Fraser wrote about the Nujiang Valley: "That district must be evangelized, but I want to find suitable nationals to go first" (Kuhn [1947] 1995, p. 19). It is within this context that the Lisu hymns were translated, a context that sought to, and largely succeeded at, giving the Lisu church full agency in the development of their faith.

With J.O. Fraser working in other fields in China, or busy with administrative tasks as superintendent, in the late 1920s Allen and Leila Cooke took on frontline roles with the nascent Lisu church. Both Allen and Leila attended the Bible Institute of Los Angeles (now Biola University). They were also both musicians, Allen on the violin and Leila on the piano. Fraser called them, "Our missionary-musicians" (Fraser 1933).

As the Lisu church was now growing and maturing, the Cookes focused on conducting short-term Bible schools as well as working on translation. Translation of the Bible and the hymnbook proceeded together, with the same translator–helper, a Lisu by the name of Fish Four, working on both. The Cookes taught the Lisu to sing in parts, which they took to immediately. After a few years, the Cookes moved to the Nujiang Valley, the site of my fieldwork, so that they could be in a purer Lisu-language environment for the purposes of translation. It was here that Leila Cooke sought out some Lisu oral poets to give her more words to use in translation: "Lisu poetry is very similar in style to that of the precious Psalms of David. Each thought is repeated with the same number of words, and companion phrases to express it" (Cooke 1947, p. 30).

Very quickly, singing hymns became the centerpiece of Lisu Christian practice. Hymns were not just sung in church. Lisu Christians sang hymns when they worked in the fields (Cooke 1932, p. 74). They sang hymns while traveling (Kuhn [1947] 1995, p. 62). They sang hymns when they attended Bible school (ibid., pp. 21–22).

In the course of my own fieldwork, I noticed the same. Lisu Christians sang hymns in times of personal devotion. They referred to hymns when seeking to understand doctrine. They sang hymns to declare their communal identification, by expressing public, poetic truth.2 They sang hymns to learn to read the Lisu language, for the hymnbook was one of few public documents containing their own script. Furthermore, just as during the mission period, they sang hymns when they attended Bible school.

Long before Christian communities were internationally networked, the Lisu sang hymns written and composed on continents far from their own, yet sang them because they were grounded in their local Christian practices and meaningful in their own local context. Ingalls et al. (2018) define localization as "the process by which Christian communities take a variety of musical practices—some considered 'indigenous,' some 'foreign,' some shared across spatial and culture divides; some linked to past practice, some innovative—and make them locally meaningful and useful in the construction of Christian beliefs, theology, practice, or identity" (p. 13).

In the Lisu case, such localization occurred because the Lisu hymns were not so much translated—a term that can often imply unidirectional communication of meaning from source to recipient—as they were transformed into a new thing, a work of many hands that found fresh life in a soil far from its origin.

#### **2. Musically Transformed**

In the beginning of my fieldwork with the Lisu, when so much about all that I felt church should be felt strange and different, hearing a hymn melody was the only thing familiar. Whether it was "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" or "Trust and Obey", the melody signaled to me not just which hymn we were singing, but also the topic we were singing about.

Yet even in the music, the realm that at first glance seems most similar, transformation leading to localization had still occurred. The first transformation was from unison singing to singing in four-part harmony. From the beginning of their Christian history, the Lisu took to singing in parts. In one church, they even sat according to their part, so that they could all easily sing together. For Lisu Christians, a portion of their identity is in the part that they sing, whether soprano, alto, tenor, or bass.

In addition, the Lisu hymns are sung a cappella. At first glance, singing a cappella, instead of accompanied by a piano or other instrument, might seem like a stylistic choice, as it is in most of the west. While singing hymns a cappella is now certainly a key part of the Lisu musical aesthetic, this initial choice was not made for reasons of style. For the Lisu people in the mission period, even if they could afford a piano, the demanding lifestyle of subsistence farming did not allow for the hours of practice that mastery of such a musical instrument required. Thus, if a piano had been brought into the Nujiang Valley—and the mountainous terrain and lack of roads made such a feat near impossible—the ones to play it would not have been locals, but the missionaries. Singing a cappella, on the other hand, put everyone—missionary and local—on the same level. This meant that very early in the process of their evangelization, local Lisu Christians had autonomy over hymn selection and hymn leading.

Further, a cappella singing had roots in pre-Christian Lisu culture. Though Lisu culture was highly musical before their evangelization, involving both string guitars and choral singing, they did not mix the two genres. Lisu choral singing was unaccompanied, both before the arrival of missionaries and after (Larsen 1984, p. 44).

Singing hymns a cappella in four-part harmony led to a structural change in the Lisu hymnbook: the use of number notation instead of staff notation. While staff notation is useful for piano accompaniment, it can make it difficult to tease out one's choral part. Number notation, on the other hand, lays out all four parts in four distinct lines that can easily be sung. I never met a Lisu who could not sightread number notation.

The move to eschew piano accompaniment might seem like an obvious choice given the Lisu's subsistence lifestyle and mountainous terrain, as well as Fraser's policy that that the Lisu church be self-supporting. However, the effect of this choice was to put the Lisu hymnody firmly in the hands of the Lisu Christians themselves, removing any need for a missionary expert pianist to have a role. Still today, every Lisu Christian is a singer, and every pastor is a worship leader.

#### **3. Poetically Transformed**

The lines of a hymn are lines of poetry, and here, too, the Lisu hymns have been transformed. In an effort to find more words to use in the translation of the Bible, Leila Cooke used words from Lisu funeral chants and oral poetry, highly poetic language not used in the course of daily life. One of the poetic constructions she found in the highly stylized oral poetry were four-word couplets, an arrangement of three words with one of the words repeated, in either an A-B-C-B or A-B-A-C construction. While the three words were usually concrete forms, their use together in the four-word couplet expressed an abstract idea. An example is:

ꓠꓲ…ꓫ…ꓟꓬ…ꓫ

heart . . . worry . . . soul . . . worry

While distress, worry, and anxiety are words reflecting concern about everyday affairs, their bundling together into a single morpheme conveys a deep grief and sorrow. " ꓠꓲ…ꓫ…ꓟꓬ…<sup>ꓫ</sup> " was used to translate the word "griefs" in the line "All our sins and griefs to bear" in hymn number 242 in the Lisu hymnbook, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus". " ꓠꓲ…ꓫ…ꓟꓬ…<sup>ꓫ</sup> " was also used in Bible translation to convey the deep suffering Jesus experienced in the Garden of Gethsemane when he asked his disciples to watch and pray with him before his crucifixion (Arrington 2020).

In choosing to use poetic constructions that were already present within the Lisu language, as opposed to coining a new term when an existing Lisu term was not readily available, the hymn translators were able to appeal to deep places in the Lisu psyche, to feelings usually only expressed in the context of ceremonial grief.

However, while the use of " ꓠꓲ…ꓫ…ꓟꓬ…<sup>ꓫ</sup> " allowed the Lisu Bible and Lisu hymns to carry deep cultural meaning, the transformation, in this case, went both ways. The couplet itself now expresses a theological meaning not present in its previous ceremonial usage. It is no longer just sorrow, but sorrow that Jesus himself experienced, and sorrow that he now carries on behalf of those who, in their singing of the hymn, are signifying their trust in him. Thus, not only has the hymn "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" been transformed

by its use of this four-word couplet, but the four-word couplet " ꓠꓲ…ꓫ…ꓟꓬ…<sup>ꓫ</sup> " has itself been transformed. While it previously meant inconsolable sorrow, its placement within this hymn has given its meaning further nuance: sorrow together with a portion of comfort.

Furthermore, even with the discovery of these abstract words, there were still theological concepts missing entirely from the Lisu language, as is to be expected in an oral culture that did not come from a Christian basis. As such, there were some terms that did have to be coined for Bible and hymn translation. In some cases, the missionaries and their translator–helpers coined terms using Chinese equivalents. However, in other cases they used existing Lisu words and combined them to form a new four-word couplet with new meaning. An example is the word for blessing, a word not previously existing in the Lisu language before their evangelization, but a critical term to use in the translation of the Bible and hymns. This meaning was conveyed by constructing a new four-word couplet: "good luck ... person ... fortune ... person". This couplet is used in the translation of the hymn "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing", hymn number 75 in the Lisu hymnbook.

These oral poetic forms were containers of deep cultural meaning for the Lisu people, meaning preserved for the people not in dictionaries or history books, but in the spoken words of elderly oral poets. As such, however, these forms and their meanings were inherently vulnerable as older generations began to pass away without passing down this knowledge to the younger generations who attended Chinese-language medium schooling. Because of translation, these cultural forms are preserved in the Lisu Christian hymnody and the Lisu Bible.

#### **4. Semantically Transformed**

In addition to their musical and poetic transformation, the Lisu Christian hymns have been semantically transformed. This sematic transformation is seen vividly in "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross", described at the beginning of this article. In this hymn, the allusive baroque poetry of the original English version was translated into stark and concrete terms, better reflecting the linguistic patterns of Lisu oral culture.

At other times semantic changes in translation resulted from the requirement to fit Lisu words, thoughts, and phrases to the rhythm and meter of the hymn. For example, hymn number 1 in the Lisu hymnbook is "To God Be the Glory". The chorus of this hymn begins as shown below in English and in Lisu:


The English repeats the line "Praise the Lord!", but sentences in the Lisu language are more expansive than their English counterparts. The Lisu version, thus, contains no repetition; it requires the entire six notes of this musical phrase to express the same thought.

However, lack of repetition does not fully explain what has occurred. A retroversion of the Lisu version back into English is helpful here:


The end of each line in the Lisu version contains a particle, ꓔꓯ in the first and ꓡꓯ in the second. The first particle, which might be translated as "to", signifies exactly who is being praised, in this case, "the Lord". While meeting the requirements of Lisu syntax, this translation remains fairly close to the English original.

The use of the second particle, ꓡꓯ , however, introduces new meaning into this hymn. This particle is commonly affixed to verb phrases with the idea of "let us", as in "let's go", "let's run", or in this case, "let us praise". In other words, there is a communal element brought into the hymn. While the English version feels like a summons to an individual to give praise to the Lord, in the Lisu version the community is summoning itself, as a group, to praise the Lord together. In other words, the hymn has been socially transformed.

#### **5. Socially Transformed**

It is here, in the social transformation, that perhaps the greatest localization has occurred. The semantic change described above both reflects and encourages the social role that hymns play in the communal Christian life of the Lisu people. The "Let us" wording of the hymn corresponds with the shared experience of singing together, acting out their embodiment as a church community that needs one another. As J.R. Watson stated, "The singer becomes part of a group process, engaged, committed, the vocalized 'I' or 'we' of the hymn becoming part of the involvement with public worship" (Watson 1999, p. 22).

Singing in four-part harmony also reinforces communal feeling. When entering a Lisu church sanctuary, even the tiny rooms built of stone with one lone lightbulb hanging from its own cord that served as sanctuaries during my fieldwork, the reverberation of soprano and alto, of tenor and bass across the room let each embodied singer present know that their voice was at its most beautiful and meaningful when it was joined together with others. Singing in four-part harmony further encouraged a mindfulness of those with whom one is singing, as one sought to blend their voice together with that of the others. Singing in four-part harmony created an awareness of the unison agreement around creed, doctrine, and belief, a togetherness which the singers took with them out of the sanctuary and into their homes and fields (Arrington 2020).

#### **6. Conclusions**

While the English versions of many hymns that have been translated into Lisu now find themselves on the periphery of Christian life in their original contexts, quite the opposite has happened with these same hymns in Lisuland.<sup>3</sup> Translated Victorian-era hymns remain at the center of Lisu Christian belief and practice. In fact, it is hard to overestimate the role that the hymnbook has in Lisu Christian life today. Part of the reason is that these hymns were not just translated: they were transformed. Translation in mission contexts can imply that while the literary idiom has changed, the ideas and meaning have remained unchanged, flowing from source to recipient in one direction. In the case of the self-supporting, self-governing, self-evangelizing Lisu church, however, the dialogue between missionary and local, between literate and oral, between western culture and Lisu culture, ultimately allowed the Lisu church to localize these transformed hymns and claim them as something wholly their own.

Localization, for the Lisu, did not begin when they received the translated hymns. Localization began before hymn translation even occurred, in the building of a three-self mission structure that ensured the local church had autonomy over their own worship. It lasted throughout the translation process when their own rituals and ceremonies were intentionally mined, allowing new theological ideas to be explained using traditional poetic phrases. Localization continued upon receipt of the translated hymns, when these hymns were sung a cappella in four-part harmony, reinforcing aspirations for a Christian life focused on togetherness. Furthermore, localization has continued in the following decades, as the Lisu church sings these hymns that no longer simply carry the Christian doctrines as J.O. Fraser intended, but now also carry their own story.

**Funding:** A portion of this research was funded by a John Brown University Summer Scholars Fellowship.

**Institutional Review Board Statement:** The study was conducted according to guidelines of Biola University, and approved by the Protection of Human Rights in Research Committee (PHRRC) of Biola University in August of 2013.

**Informed Consent Statement:** Informed consent was waived due to the political situation within the country at the time of my research. At all times, my research was conducted under the auspices and protection of the local Lisu churches.

**Data Availability Statement:** Not applicable.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The author declares no conflict of interest.

#### **Notes**


#### **References**


Chenoweth, Vida, and Darlene Bee. 1968. On Ethnic Music. *Practical Anthropology* 15: 205–12.

Conversation with Mr. Fraser. 1934. December 21. Box 11, Papers of Frederick Howard Taylor, China Inland Mission Archive, SOAS Archives, University of London.

Cooke, Leila R. 1932. *Honey Two of Lisu-land*. London: China Inland Mission.


Ingalls, Monique M., Muriel Swijghuisen Reigersberg, and Zoe C. Sherinian. 2018. Introduction: Music as Local and Global Position. In *Making Congregational Music Local in Christian Communities Worldwide*. Edited by Monique M. Ingalls, Muriel Swijghuisen Reigersberg and Zoe C. Sherinian. New York: Routledge.

King, Roberta. 2008. *Music in the Life of the African Church*. Waco: Baylor University Press.

Kuhn, Isobel. 1995. *Nests Above the Abyss*. Singapore: Overseas Missionary Fellowship. First published 1947.

Kuhn, John B. n.d. Memoirs of J. O. Fraser. Collection 215, Records of Overseas Missionary Fellowship, Box 4, Folder 55, Billy Graham Center Archives, Wheaton, IL.

Larsen, Hans P. 1984. The Music of the Lisu of Northern Thailand. *Asian Folklore Studies* 43: 41–62. [CrossRef]

Nketia, Joseph H. 1958. The Contribution of African Culture to Christian Worship. *International Review of Mission* 47: 265–78. [CrossRef] Ong, Walter J. 2002. *Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word*. New York: Routledge. First published 1982.

Taylor, Howard. 1944. *Behind the Ranges: Fraser of Lisuland Southwest China*. London: China Inland Mission.

Watson, J. R. 1999. *The English Hymn: A Critical and Historical Study*. New York: Oxford University Press.

## *Article* **Strengthening Christian Identity through Scripture Songwriting in Indonesia**

**Matt Connor 1,2,\* and Matt Menger 2,3,\***


**Abstract:** Bible translation and indigenous hymnody have always been important parts of the localization of the Christian faith. In this study, we describe how local songwriters creating songs with lyrics based on translated scriptures play a vital role in the process of localization in Christian communities in Indonesia. We focus primarily on thirty-nine scripture songwriting workshops that we and our colleagues conducted over the past six years in Indonesia, as well as ongoing interactions we had with communities in Ambon and Central Sulawesi. We begin with a literature review to establish the influences which shaped our songwriting workshops and our motivation for conducting them, and then we describe the workshops themselves and the process of musical localization that took place. Throughout the study, we highlight the role of local agency, the importance of fusion genres, and the creation of unique Christian identities through the localization of music.

**Keywords:** musical localization; fusion; hybridity; songwriting; bible translation; ethnodoxology; ethnoarts

#### **1. Introduction**

Most of the fifteen members of the songwriting group Pontong crammed into our small, sweltering studio to record a recent composition. Anez Latupeirissa, a church musician trained in Western hymnody, had recently returned from a trip to the remote island of Haruku. He had heard a traditional *marinyo* calling the village together and was inspired to write a new song inviting Moluccans to worship. As the recording light turned from green to red, a retired Ambonese policeman began beating the *tifa*, a traditional Moluccan hand drum. This was shortly followed by a piercing *huele* yodel by John Beay, a pastor who had served in the remote mountains of Buru. Latupeirissa began singing in a rich Western classical vocal style followed by steady electric guitar chords and a simple chorus in harmony, chanted by the rest of the Pontong members. The goosebumps raised on my arms, and I noticed tears brimming in the eyes of the musicians around me. This perfect mix of language, musical style, and creativity had led to a truly hybrid and unique faith-affirming moment for everyone in the room. After the last notes of the last *huele* died away, the members of Pontong were silent for a long time, engulfed in a holy moment.1

This small songwriting group in Ambon, Indonesia, that I (Author 1) worked with in the story above is one of the many groups that were born out of scripture songwriting workshops in Indonesia. During the past six years, we and our colleagues conducted thirty-nine such workshops, representing over one hundred languages, spread across most of the Indonesian archipelago. We additionally facilitated more extended and in-depth work with songwriters and arts groups in the Indonesian provinces of Maluku (Author 1) and Central Sulawesi (Author 2).

Our primary goal was to support Bible translation projects by further localizing scripture through the creation of songs in local musical styles. Over seven hundred languages are spoken in Indonesia, making it an ideal location to study the localization

**Citation:** Connor, Matt, and Matt Menger. 2021. Strengthening Christian Identity through Scripture Songwriting in Indonesia. *Religions* 12: 873. https://doi.org/10.3390/ rel12100873

Academic Editors: John MacInnis and Jeremy Perigo

Received: 12 August 2021 Accepted: 7 October 2021 Published: 13 October 2021

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2021 by the authors. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

of scripture songs in a wide variety of cultures (Eberhard et al. 2021). Over the course of our fieldwork, and building on the musical localization work of others, we developed the theory and practice which has enabled us to encourage local agency and spark musical localization in Christian communities.

If local agency is as important as we believe it is, can someone from outside the local community actually help in the process of musical localization? Whenever Ambonese musician John Beay facilitated songwriting workshops with us, he told the participants, "The missionaries came to our islands hundreds of years ago and told us that we couldn't use our drums, conch shells, and traditional music to worship God. Then they recently came back and told us to pick it all up again." The second set of missionaries did not seem to be any different than the first—still ignoring local agency as a sort of neo-colonialism.

How do we help in the process despite being from outside these communities? First, it is important to understand who these local communities are and how they fit into the broader surrounding culture. Translation initiatives define them linguistically, but communities are rarely monolingual. The reality is even more complex when we consider artistic traditions from a variety of local and global sources. We recognize that communities are a complex congeries of relationships and sub-groups, sometimes with contradictory aims and differing narratives. Schrag (2013) reminds us that communities "are composed of individuals who each make their own decisions, enter and leave the community, and respond to external and internal factors differently. Every community has internal variation and changes over time" (p. 2). So, although we could be considered "outsiders," we recognize that every individual who influences these communities has a variety of identities that make up who they are and how they connect with others in the community.

In this article, we will describe how we worked alongside songwriting facilitators, such as John Beay, to help musicians create localized musical compositions that were based on the translated scriptures, using resources from the full spectrum of the musical heritage available to them. In our workshops we tried to spark the process of localization by asking the participants to evaluate their musical milieu, including the variety of genres that are considered indigenous, adapted, or imported. Their whole musical history was available for the creation of what they considered to be their localized music, and participants had the agency to choose what to use. As participants created, they naturally progressed through important conversations about what they considered to be local and authentic. They asked important questions of themselves and their communities, leading to artistic creations that naturally benefitted the community. However, before we describe our process and involvement further, we will consider other perspectives on localization and applied ethnomusicology.

#### **2. Background**

#### *2.1. Encounters with Musical Localization*

Over the past seventy years, many missiologists have described the adaptation and integration of Christian faith into local communities (Bulatao 1966; Hiebert 1985; Newbigin 1989; Kraft 1996; Shaw and Burrows 2018). Most of these authors have used terms such as contextualization, indigenization, inculturation, and hybridization to describe this process. Ingalls et al. (2018) define musical localization as "the process whereby Christian communities take a variety of musical practices—some considered 'indigenous,' some 'foreign,' some shared across spatial and cultural divides; some linked to past practice, some innovative—and make them locally meaningful and useful in the construction of Christian beliefs, theology, practice, and identity" (Ingalls et al. 2018, p. 3). They go on to say that "musical localization conceived in this way is capable of encompassing the ecumenical aspirations of the concepts of inculturation and contextualization and the emphasis on local agency signified by indigenization without succumbing to their pitfalls, especially those of ethnocentrism and essentialized notions of authenticity" (Ingalls et al. 2018, p. 13). We prefer to use the term localization as it is defined above because it aligns with what we experienced during our fieldwork in Indonesia.

We see many parallels and valuable theory presented in other studies of localization of Christian music. In her book *Music in Kenyan Christianity,* Jean Kidula (2013) describes how European and American hymns taught by missionaries evolved over time, taking on more traditional Logooli musical traits. In contrast, when describing newly composed songs, she states, "the earliest pieces derived musical elements from indigenous styles, while later songs incorporated missionary modes and popular ideas that had gradually been absorbed in the community" (Kidula 2013, p. 84). The process of the localization of Christian arts was clearly attested as introduced songs exhibited more traditional Logooli traits and newly composed songs exhibited more Western traits, creating a more unified identity. All over Indonesia, churches have adapted imported hymns—perhaps not to the extent of Logooli hymns in Kidula (2013), but there are nonetheless many similarities.

Elsen Portugal (2020) describes the effects of colonialism on a community and responds to tensions in the Xerente church around local and external musical influences and genres. The situation he describes closely mirrors our experiences with Indonesian communities as they wrestle with their colonial past and the ongoing influences and pressures they face from both inside and outside their locale. His research investigates contemporary Xerente musical genres, and whether and how the community—not outsiders—characterize them as foreign or local. He proposes an evaluative framework for how authenticity is determined within a community, and who has the cultural power to make those decisions.

Justice (2018) theorizes that many mainstream American churches have a renewed interest in "old-timey" music in Christian worship, because "they want to express a sense of corporate history; they want to participate in American society's valuing of diversity; they want music that reflects their heritage" (p. 87). The banjo and folk music meant to hearken back to a more "authentic" American expression is not necessarily the kind of music that was played two hundred years ago in America. In fact, "most of this 'old-time religion' repertoire is relatively recent and comes from songwriters active around the turn of the twentieth century." Many Indonesian churches have successfully integrated indigenous sounds into church music, while others have only recently decided to include more of what they consider "indigenous" sounds into Christian worship. For instance, the Ambonese have adopted sounds from all over the province of Maluku to recreate an "authentic" Moluccan sound, similar to Justice's description of a revival of folk sounds in American churches.

Most of the literature about the localization of Christian music consists of in-depth descriptions of how localization has taken place. Our approach differs somewhat, because we did not only want to describe what was happening—we were involved in the process. We consider our approach to be a branch of applied ethnomusicology, defined by Jeff Todd Titon as "a music-centered intervention in a particular community, whose purpose is to benefit that community" (Pettan and Titon 2015, p. 4). Our goals, that aimed to benefit Christian communities with whom we worked with, will be described in the following section.

#### *2.2. Translation and Localization as Incarnation*

The eminent church historian, Andrew Walls, describes this localization process as a form of translation, and one of the unique characteristics of the Christian faith: "Incarnation is translation. When God in Christ became man, Divinity was translated into humanity, as though humanity were a receptor language" (Walls 2015, chp. 3). "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us" (John 1:14 NIV).

When the Bible is translated from the Greek or Hebrew, an act of incarnation takes place, mirroring Christ "translating" himself from the divine. However, the arts hold the power to integrate this message more holistically into cultures. Beeman describes artistic communication as "the means—perhaps the principal means—through which people come to understand their world, reinforce their view of it and transform it on both small scale and large scale. It can be conservative, or transformative" (Beeman 2002, p. 95).

The arts provide a space for concepts and feelings that are more difficult to express through words alone. Not only do we understand a message more deeply when it is presented in an artistic way, but when we are part of the creation process, we are involved in transformation: "Imagination ... has essentially to do with possibility. It is this sense of the possible, of transformation, that presents a fundamental link between imagination and religious faith" (Thiessen 2018, p. 83). Songwriting helps Christians engage with the Bible in a deeper way, allowing us to imagine a possible future where God's truth intersects with our broken world, creating a better future. John de Gruchy observes, "Through discovering their creative abilities, people are enabled to rise above their circumstances and contribute not only to their own well-being but also to the healing of their communities and keeping hope alive ... .Hope is, in fact, part of the creative human capacity of imagination that brings past and future into the present" (de Gruchy 2018, p. 428).

#### **3. Our Fieldwork and Methodology**

Over the course of our fieldwork, we used a variety of sources to enrich our theory and process. The Creating Local Arts Together (CLAT) approach, described below, was our primary framework.

#### *3.1. The Creating Local Arts Together Approach*

Brian Schrag developed the CLAT approach based on his experience in Cameroon as a way of encouraging the creation of local scripture-based arts. Schrag's (2013) book *Creating Local Arts Together: A Manual to Help Communities Reach their Kingdom Goals* includes the following seven steps:


These seven steps are presented sequentially and generally occur in this order, but the process is not often linear; at times these have been referred to as seven "conversations" with a community. When we discussed the CLAT process in Indonesian, rather than calling these "steps" (*langkah*), we called them "principles" (*prinsip* or *pokok*). Although they are described in the CLAT manual as steps, Schrag writes, "Think of these steps as a reliable, solid framework you can refer to, but not one etched in stone ... .Our emphasis is not on rigidly defining and requiring separate steps, but helping the community make sure that they've included each component somewhere in the big picture of their lives" (Schrag 2013, p. xxix).

We loosely embraced the principles of this method, often in a different order. We prioritized CLAT Step 5 "Sparking Creativity" over Steps 3 and 4 as we emphasized the participant's agency in the research process and in choosing what needed to be researched. In our methodology, we saw Steps 2, 3, and 4 as naturally occurring during the creative process of workshop participants.

#### *3.2. Activities to Increase Localization of Music*

We learned together with local churches and partners how to facilitate scripture songwriting workshops in Indonesia that met the needs of the communities we served. Most of our work in Indonesia centered on either songwriting workshops or songwriting

groups, often formed through the workshops. The following section describes both in more detail.

#### 3.2.1. The Scripture Songwriting Workshop

We started leading scripture songwriting workshops in 2015 after requests from local churches, Bible translators, and Bible translation organizations. Many translators are encouraged by scripture songwriting workshops as they see their work used creatively in the local community. Sometimes Bible translation teams will translate portions of the Bible specifically for songwriting, such as the Ambonese Malay translation team translating verses needed for certain liturgical songs requested by the local church ("Liturgi|ABMA" 2019).

It usually takes a team of translators anywhere from seven to fifteen years to complete a translation of the New Testament into a new language. Because of the length of time required, most translation teams publish books of the Bible as they are completed to encourage scripture use and to gather feedback from the community. Musical localization is helpful to them in several ways. Not only is music helpful for exposing the community to the translation project early on, but it also provides helpful feedback for translators. The Bible is written in a variety of styles (poetic, narrative, prophetic, apocalyptic, and more) and local artistic genres can provide valuable insights to translation teams as they consider the forms which most clearly communicate the meaning of a text (Mullins 2021).

The organizations with which we worked all conducted a meaning-based translation rather than a literal translation. They focused on clarity, accuracy, naturalness, and acceptability and go through a rigorous set of checks and revisions (Wendland 2005). If the Bible is translated well, it is much easier for songwriters to create scripture songs that are meaningful and natural. We once conducted a workshop in a language where no translation was completed, and it was much more difficult because the participants needed to undertake an ad hoc translation of the verses before they could start writing songs.

Most workshops lasted about five days and were attended by fifteen to forty participants. The needs of the participants were always different, so we began by getting to know them—especially their expectations for the workshop and their background in music and songwriting. After introductions, we discussed the theological basis for all arts used in Christian worship (Man 2012; Schrag 2013, pp. 186–87). We then asked the participants to discuss the genres of music they experienced in their context and what genres or fusions might be useful for their goals (Schrag 2013, pp. 4–8).

#### Engaging with Local Needs

Because many of our church partners (such as GPM in Maluku, and GPID and GMIM on Sulawesi) were from the reformed Christian tradition, prescribed liturgical music was central to worship services.2 This was also often expressed as a felt need by local congregants. As a result, scripture songwriting workshops with these churches often focused on creating liturgical songs based on relevant scripture passages, and sometimes the localization of other artistic and symbolic elements of the service, such as dance and visual arts.

In some cases, the community had other needs they wanted to address through song. Occasionally these were discussed in the planning process; other times, they emerged during a songwriting workshop as we facilitated participatory sessions on felt needs (Kumar 2002). Small groups of participants discussed what challenges the community was facing and what hopes and dreams they had for their community. They then discussed the underlying dynamics that contributed to these issues and finally looked for Bible portions that might address these forces. Workshop facilitators guided the groups through this process, but the participants themselves identified the needs, hopes, underlying forces, scripture resource, and appropriate genres for songwriting. At one workshop in the highlands of Papua, the group decided to write a song about famine. I (Author 1) had no experience with songs about this, but they took inspiration from the book of Ruth and

wrote a song about the temporary nature of famine. It was a unique and refreshing use of scripture to deal with a felt need—the creation of a song as well as a local theology about famine (Uldam Village Songwriters 2019).

#### Songwriting

When the participants were ready to begin creating, we encouraged them to work in groups of three to five people. This allowed group members to complement one another's skills and critique the songs in a natural way (Fitzgerald and Schrag 2014). Experienced creators worked alongside those with less experience, different generations and genders cooperated, and musicians, poets, translators, artists, and others found ways to collaborate. Indonesian culture places a high value on the group over the individual, and the participants seldom experienced any difficulty working together (Hofstede et al. 2010). The facilitators were also available to help with ideas or direction if needed. We typically had 2–3 experienced facilitators and 1–2 facilitators-in-training at the workshops. Our goal was for Indonesian facilitators to take the lead role and to always be training new ones. Over the course of a few days, we sometimes brought everyone together to discuss an issue many of them were struggling with, but the majority of the time was allocated to creation in groups (Hollingsworth and Negrao 2013).

Songwriting workshops are an engaging way to write many songs in a short amount of time and help burgeoning songwriters gain experience and confidence. They can also help songwriters to explore new ways of writing that they can build on later.

#### Quality Control

Because these were scripture-based songs, fidelity to the Bible was important, and the local church leadership wanted to ensure that the songs were faithful to the translation and theologically sound. We relied heavily on the work of Bible translators to produce an understandable and accurate product from which the participants could work. The organizations that partnered with us completed a variety of checks. A mother tongue speaker of the language read a portion of the translation to ensure that the product was natural and was not stilted or clumsy. This was followed by an accuracy check against a more literal translation in a language of wider communication, such as the RSV in English or the TB in Indonesian. The translation was then back-translated into the language of wider communication—in most cases Indonesian, so that an outside consultant could help with the remaining checks. The portion was then checked for understanding with at least two mother tongue speakers from the language community who did not previously know much about the material in question. The final check was with an outside consultant either an Indonesian or expatriate from outside the language community. After each check, the product was revised until the final product was natural, accurate, understandable, and accepted (Wendland 2005).

The song checking process was complex in that we wanted to ensure fidelity to scripture in the text, but we also had to consider the musical and artistic aspects of the songs and the creative license of the musicians. The checking of song texts was not as rigorous as Bible translation checking, because we did not claim that these songs were scripture, but rather that they were *based* on scripture. Since the musicians drew on translated scripture that had already been rigorously checked, we trusted that the songs would not stray far from the source material. We asked the participants to practice constructive criticism in groups—the local church or local Bible translation organization designated at least one person to check the theological appropriateness in each group as the songs were being written, and local musical experts were either placed in each group or were available throughout the workshop to help the participants create songs that were of quality, as defined by local musical taste. We preferred the checking to be integrated into the process of songwriting in the groups themselves, because the artistic quality of a song suffers if it is repeatedly sent back to the songwriter for extensive textual or artistic modifications.

We borrowed ideas from design thinking and the Agile programming methodology, striving to avoid a "waterfall" workflow in songwriting, where the planning is frontloaded and the creation is difficult to modify along the way (Morrison et al. 2019; Boller and Fletcher 2020). These techniques allowed the groups to sprint toward a goal and iterate their work, and we practiced just-in-time checking.

We agree with Frank Burch Brown that "The overall evaluation of any art used in worship needs to be a joint effort between clergy, congregation, and trained artists and musicians, taking into account not only the aesthetic qualities of the art itself but also the larger requirements and contours of worship" (Brown 2000, chp. 8). As Brown suggests, and in keeping with our high value for local agency, the church community itself needed to have a say in the evaluation process, and the songs were often further modified after the workshop was over when they were played for the community.

#### Ownership

We were careful to archive our work and document ownership of the final product and its permissible uses. Each workshop included a special session about rights and ownership, and while the specific decisions around ownership of the songs did vary from workshop to workshop, the group typically decided something such as this:


A key component of this part of our work was protecting the rights of the local creators, and we always involved them in the discussion from the beginning. Rather than seeing informed consent as a way to look after ourselves and gain privileges, we sought to archive each workshop to protect the creator's rights. We were transparent that we would not profit from their creativity, but rather that we were documenting this for the benefit and protection of them and their community.

#### Final Workshop Session: Future Steps

On the last day of the workshop, we asked the participants to discuss their plans. The workshop was meant to be a catalyst for the continuing creation and use of Bible-based songs; we did not approach these workshops as the end of the musical localization journey for a community. Participants often planned to keep meeting together to write songs, to promote the use of the new songs in their churches, and to continue to explore their traditional arts for inspiration.

#### 3.2.2. Songwriting Groups

Many good songs were written at these workshops, but from our experience we saw more high-quality songs from a community of songwriters that grew out of the workshop experience. In the following section, we will describe a few of these songwriting groups.

#### Pontong

Pontong formed very naturally on the last day of our first scripture songwriting workshop in Ambon in 2015. The participants wanted to create a group to both continue writing new songs and to mine their musical heritage for inspiration. During the workshop, the participants—almost all of whom were from urban Ambon—expressed frustration and a feeling of loss at not knowing much about traditional Moluccan music. After the workshop, whenever any of the participants traveled to more remote islands where traditional Moluccan music was stronger, upon their return they would often integrate more traditional sounds into new compositions.

John Beay wrote several songs in a *kapata* style from Buru, utilizing a pentatonic scale and a free rhythm typical of music from the island of Buru.3 Beay also began writing more songs in Ambonese Malay, whereas most of his previous work had been in high Indonesian. When the songs were recorded, there was also an increased use of the Hawaiian steel guitar—an instrument that Indonesians associate almost exclusively with Ambon (Tamaela 2015, p. 141). Berthy Kaihatu started writing more songs using only the pentatonic scale rather than the diatonic scale he was used to using (Pontong 2015). After writing *Mae Lahatoe,* Latupeirissa went on to encourage the younger generation to play bamboo flutes and improved and promoted a traditional Moluccan stone xylophone.

When I (Author 1) lived in Ambon, Pontong would meet every month or two to share, edit, and record their songs. Pontong meetings usually lasted all day, and included eating, drinking, and laughing together. It was always a time of constructive criticism and the sparking of creativity. Often after hearing someone else's new song, another songwriter would be inspired to write their own song. They would also frequently visit one another and work on songs together outside of Pontong meetings. Usually, if someone wrote a new song, they would also send the recordings around by cell phone and obtain feedback and encouragement.

The members of Pontong began writing more songs that used traditional elements, but they also freely mixed them with Ambonese Malay, Pop Ambon, Indonesian, Western hymn styles, and other influences, creating a unique Moluccan.4 This new Pontong style had a binding effect on the members, giving them a shared identity. Van der Leeuw comments, "Style is ... what binds artists together, what makes an organic whole out of a group of men who belong to the same age, the same nationality, and the same school of thought" (van der Leeuw 1963, p. 271). John Beay, the leader of Pontong, recently told me that "Music is a means for reconciliation because it has the power to change our hearts, thoughts, and worldview. Music also binds us together as a family."

#### Peronde Arts Group

*Sanggar Seni Peronde* (Peronde Arts Group) was formed in response to my (Author 2) plan for a large songwriting workshop with local church denominations in July 2016. Peronde members all speak the Tado language and live in the northernmost highlands of Central Sulawesi, Indonesia, by the shores of the remote and idyllic Lake Lindu.

Several months beforehand, in preparation for the workshop, a few Tado community musicians began to gather and discuss their artistic genres and song ideas. Eventually, a core group organized themselves and chose the name Peronde from the name of a nearby mountain.

During the songwriting workshop in July 2016, Peronde discussed their artistic genres, and a key outcome was their realization that, as mostly younger musicians—in their twenties and thirties—they were lacking in their knowledge of older, more traditional musical instruments and song styles. They were concerned that their communal identity and values were eroding, and the loss of their traditional arts was a sign of this decline. Although they wrote several excellent songs during the workshop, the most important outcome of the workshop was a decision to return home and learn more about their own culture. Todd Saurman (2013), in his research conducted in the highlands of Cambodia, refers to this phenomenon as autogenic research. We believe that this was one of the best outcomes of our songwriting workshops because of the sustainable effect of equipping communities to conduct research themselves and make their own informed decisions based on that research.

From 2016 to the present, Peronde has created three albums accompanied by music videos, featuring local song styles and dress, set in scenic locations from across their homeland. With each subsequent album, the use of traditional styles increased. This is evidence of their continuing autogenic research as they learned more about their history, music, and culture and applied this to their creativity. Additionally, they took more leadership in the recording and videography; for the first recordings, they asked for help

with audiovisual recording and editing of the songs. By the third album, the group recorded all media themselves and only asked for assistance with video editing.

#### **4. Key Concepts**

Besides Schrag's CLAT framework, several other sources contributed to our theory and methodology. We believe these concepts, and the related important conversation about outsider involvement in them, are critical to successful and sustainable musical localization.

#### *4.1. Importance of Process over Product*

Herbert Marcuse's suggestion that art has the power to change, not necessarily because of its content but rather through its creative nature, was one of the cornerstones of our method (de Gruchy 2018, p. 427). We found that an intentional focus on the creative process early in our workshops organically flowed into stronger localization efforts in communities. After the experience of working with arts groups and local communities over the course of several years, we have realized that the ongoing development of a community's arts is more important than the products created at a weeklong workshop or even by a songwriting group.

Although we personally sometimes appreciated the older, more traditional musical styles, we prioritized the agency of the local community in making intelligent, informed decisions about the future of their music. In areas where we conducted a second workshop, songs from the first workshop tended toward pop or other more globalized musical forms, but at the following workshop we were surprised by a resurgence of more distinct local styles and instruments. In both the Pontong and Peronde arts groups now, there is a trend towards more distinctive localized musical forms. Rather than focus on the products created at a specific moment in time, we valued working toward a living, autogenic process in the community that leads toward localization over time (Saurman 2013, p. 141).

#### Research in Our Workshops and How It Relates to Process

The *Creating Local Arts Together* method has a strong historical connection to ethnomusicology, and it focuses on in-depth research. Though we have a background in this methodology and in applied ethnomusicology generally, our application of these ideas in Indonesia differed. As facilitators of creation rather than creators ourselves, we focused primarily on helping participants explore their own music rather than researching and creating it ourselves. We encouraged local musicians to create before the conditions were perfect and the research was completed, because the creative problem-solving process is in itself valuable toward reaching these goals. Darby and Lang's comment about online education informs this process:

We often think we must teach content and skills to students, and then give them tasks that will put that knowledge or those skills to use. But research from the learning sciences tells us that when we ask people to complete tasks before they learn something new, they will learn it more effectively. (Darby and Lang 2019, p. 12).

CLAT encouraged our active participation in the research process, but we also drew insight from Darby and Lang to apply a passive approach in which the participants performed the research on their own arts. Step 4 of the CLAT method contains several exercises we found helpful as research catalysts for workshop participants. We discussed culture and the arts by identifying events such as birth, death, harvest, marriage, or other celebrations (Schrag 2013, p. 5). At times we discussed music more specifically and created genre or instrument lists (Schrag 2013, p. 96). Playing media examples from the community's arts that have been recorded is a fascinating exercise in exploring what participants identify with—what music they feel is "from here." As we played both local recordings and those from neighboring groups, lively discussions arose as to what was "from here," what was "our" music, and why. The musical genre and instrumentation might have been the same as a neighboring group, but sometimes small yet significant

musical identity markers distinguished "them" from "us." At one workshop in Kalimantan, we played a sample song to prompt discussion and as soon as the participants heard the opening, before any words were sung and without seeing the images, they knew it was "from here" because of the sound of running water (SMP Mandiri Pahauman 2015). At another workshop in Papua, the primary differentiating characteristic between two neighboring communities was the tempo at which the songs were performed in that genre (Global Ethnodoxology Network 2021).

These simple research activities were intended to spark further conversation and contemplation, leading workshop participants to ponder more deeply their cultural and artistic identity. We wanted to help them define some of the characteristics that made their music unique so they could recognize their creations as local. Defining what was authentic or "from here" was ultimately up to the participants. Whereas this step helped the participants think about localization, our assumption—thus far borne out by our experiences—is that they would naturally move toward writing music that reflected the variety of influences in their community.

#### *4.2. Autogenic Research*

Foundational to local agency is research. From the start, we sought to ask good questions and respectfully learn about a community and its needs. Through the research process, we attempted to draw the community into a conversation that would lead toward their empowerment. Ultimately, we prioritized not what we learned about the community, but rather what the community learned about itself through the research process.

The distinction between *process* and *product* is critical in these situations. Some workshops initially felt like failures because the songs written did not seem—to us—to have much of a local flavor. However, the participants in these "failed" workshops often went on to learn more about their local arts through that process and went on to write great songs.

Todd Saurman describes autogenic research as the process whereby a community researches itself (Saurman 2013). We highly value this kind of research as the most local and sustainable solution. The intersection of local agency with autogenic research leads to a self-directed, self-motivated, and sustainable localization movement. In several of our songwriting workshops, the most valuable outcome was not the songs or any other product, but rather a renewed interest in the community in learning about themselves, their heritage, and their identity. The best effect was the realization that the community did know much about its arts and song styles anymore, and they left the workshop inspired to seek out experts to (re)learn these art forms. In that case, very little was produced at the workshop, but in the following months the participants learned about themselves and their community.

Our role was to provide tools, ideas, and concepts to help guide them in their research journey. In a few locations where we had the opportunity to return later for a second workshop, we observed a clear difference in style and quality. This was attributed to the informal research completed by the community to renew local musical styles, and their ability to learn how to play local instruments better before applying this knowledge to their songwriting.

#### *4.3. Strengthening vs. Preserving*

As we struggled to help local musicians create music that they felt was truly local, we discovered a useful concept in Philip Yampolsky's article, "Can the Traditional Arts Survive, and Should They?" (Yampolsky 2001, p. 177). Yampolsky is an ethnomusicologist who worked extensively in Indonesia, and he makes the useful distinction between strengthening local arts and preserving them. Recognizing the value of the unique musical treasures in Indonesia, he notices that simply preserving local arts as they are can lead to a stale and often dying art form, whereas strengthening local arts invites new ways of engaging with traditional forms while inviting innovation. Schrag (2005) agrees, showing

how arts communities need a combination of rooted traditions and innovation to truly thrive. Strengthening local arts allows the music to breathe and change naturally while at the same time keeping what makes localized musical expressions feel like they belong to the community. When a community focuses on creating arts that include all the musical influences from their history, their arts are naturally strengthened.

Pyon Nams ˘ op, a Korean ritual musician, is quoted by Mills as saying, "The old ˘ teachers have gone and the memories have faded. So to fill in the holes and create old appearances, we have to be creative. For our tradition, preservation goes with restoration, which goes with creation. We must always revitalize—matching the thoughts and ideas of current culture" (Mills 2018, p. 15). If Ambonese songwriters decided to focus on creating *kapata* in the most traditional way (Yampolsky's preservation focus), it is likely that their music would end up similar to some of the Korean shamanic rituals described by Mills (2018), languishing in increased obscurity and insignificance. Schrag quotes Paul Ricoeur in describing tradition as, "the living transmission of an innovation always being capable of being reactivated by a return to the most creative moments of poetic activity ... .[A] tradition is constituted by the interplay of innovation and sedimentation" (Schrag 2013, p. xix). Therefore, creativity must be grounded in traditions—*all* the musical traditions that influence a community—but also be open to innovation.

We saw examples of this strengthening happening through local arts groups, such as Peronde and Pontong. The Peronde Arts Group strengthened local arts by using their traditional music in new settings with some new musical instruments. They were not interested in preservation as it would have meant fewer opportunities to perform and less meaningful communication. The Pontong group strengthened their local music by using musical influences from throughout their history to create music that felt very Ambonese. They have generally stopped writing songs in the old Dutch hymn style, but they also do not write songs using traditional Moluccan *kapata.* As we saw earlier in this paper, they created songs that included traditional scales and rhythms, Western harmonies and vocal styles, electronic keyboard sounds, and a number of languages, from colloquial to formal and from old to new. When all these influences are encouraged to interact in the context of song creation, people sense a truly unique Moluccan identity.

Workshop participants often assumed that we were working in their communities to facilitate the preservation of the past. While we valued that and did seek to maintain the unique cultural heritages we encountered through recording and documentation, our workshops were forward-looking and prioritized the ongoing creation of culture. This is critical to a healthy identity, cultural sustainability, and artistic revitalization. Only through a flourishing future can local communities derive deep meaning from their past.

#### *4.4. Fusion and Signposts of Authenticity*

In our context, localized music was almost always expressed in some kind of fusion genre. Elsen Portugal (2020), in his recent dissertation on Xerente fusion genres in Brazil, considers the concept of authenticity as an integral part of fusion music. He describes the Xerente community as idiomatic of the ongoing hybridization and fusion process for all of Brazil over the last five centuries (Portugal 2020, p. 7). He encountered a complex, nuanced cultural situation with a history of colonialism and exploitation, not unlike the cultural and artistic milieu of Indonesia where we worked. For Portugal, authenticity is not "a slave of a society's past but ... a fluid or dynamic feature." He suggests using the following four signposts to determine authenticity in any given fusion genre:


Portugal reminded us of the complexity we encountered in local communities. With increasing globalization and the lingering effects of colonization, we rarely entered a situation in which genres could be clearly defined as local or foreign. Instead, his signposts create an evaluative framework built around the community's ideas of authenticity:

The authenticity of musical and artistic genres are not dependent on the timespan of a tradition or its documented origin, but on connections involving emotional, contextual, practical, and spiritual meanings perceived by present-day participants. [This dissertation] conceives of authenticity, in its relationship to ethnic identity, not as a slave of a society's past but as fluid or dynamic, attaining local and at times indispensable—functions within the community ... .Choices made by the people ... give evidence of their genuine Xerente character. (Portugal 2020, p. 11)

We found these ideas refreshing and they aligned with our experiences in Indonesia. These practical signposts guided us toward community-defined genre concepts, not only in determining key aspects of the genres but also in assigning them value and functionality. In our workshops we intentionally created a challenging environment in which participants wrestled with their beliefs, culture, and arts. In that space, we observed Portugal's four Signposts naturally discussed and defined by participants. Meaning was determined as songwriters decided what they wanted to communicate, chose genres, and created new music. Function solidified through conversations with local church leaders: where might the new songs fit into the church's worship or liturgy? Competence was often determined through who was invited to the workshop—the local community or church decided, not us. If the right musicians were present, they were qualified to not only compose but also to define the genre. Agency enveloped the entire process.

Combining the insights from these authors led to our methodology. When workshop participants began the creative process, often without all the needed musical and cultural information, we observed a natural movement towards an exploration of what was local and authentic. The CLAT method gave us the research tools we needed, ideas for community conversations, and a framework for sparking creativity. Following Darby and Lang we let workshop participants—and by extension their communities—wrestle with localization before they had all the answers in order to drive them towards empowered learning that would last. Saurman reminds us of the importance of local agency. It is more sustainable and empowering when autogenic research occurs and communities learn about themselves. Yampolsky takes a forward-looking stance to encourage the strengthening of the local arts. Finally, Portugal tells us that ultimately communities should decide what is authentic for them.

#### **5. Local Agency**

The process of musical localization, autogenic research, strengthening local arts, and authentic fusion genres all rely heavily on strong local agency. We have seen that those from outside the community, such as ourselves, can help this process if we continue to prioritize local agency. We are not the only ethnodoxologists that prioritize this—one of the core values of the Global Ethnodoxology Network (GEN) is locally grounded methods:

"We encourage the development of a wide variety of arts in the life and worship of the church, acknowledging the importance of local decision-making in the choice of art forms. Given our emphasis on individual and community agency, we choose participatory methods like appreciative inquiry in ethnographic research and sparking creativity. We esteem local categories and practices of artistry as primary, rooting our analyses in the practitioners' worldview. This affirms the communicative, motivational, identity-strengthening power of locally-created expressive arts" ("Core Values" 2021).

We agree with Rievan when he states, "The outsider comes at the invitation of a local church or agency. Local leaders set the terms and conditions, and the outsider reports to them" (Rievan 2021). We only conducted workshops at the community's invitation, and we carefully respected local agency in the planning and implementation of any activity. We found that the success of the workshops was largely dependent upon these planning stages, where local agency was more important than ever.

As we look back on workshops that were not optimal, we can point to a lack of local agency at this early stage as a determining factor. We discovered through experience that making mistakes is useful for learning if local agency is respected throughout the process. The following story is an example of such an experience.

For eight years I (Author 1) worked under the Protestant Church of Maluku (GPM), a large, fully autonomous Indonesian denomination, with little outside funding or influence. For my first three years with GPM, I met with church leaders across the province to discuss how they wanted to use local languages in church activities. It became abundantly clear that Moluccan Christians wanted to sing liturgical songs in their own languages. As a result, the GPM leadership asked me to lead two hymn translation workshops for several languages. I would have preferred to start with songwriting, but I conducted the hymn translation workshops anyway. Concepts of singability (Low 2003; Franzon 2008) were helpful in both workshops as the teams struggled through hymn translation, but shortly after these difficult experiences, the GPM leadership approached me to lead some songwriting workshops instead. Had I initially refused to conduct the song translation workshops, I would have lost the opportunity to respect local agency and learn together with GPM. Often, respecting local agency means that we assist communities even when we believe we have better ideas. Rievan (2021) captures this idea well when he suggests that rather than asking how we can hand over a project to the local community, it would be better if it had been theirs from the start.

In his dissertation on music revitalization in Cambodia, Todd Saurman identifies three "essential intergenerational components" for music revitalization (Saurman 2013, p. 2):


We observed a consistent correlation between increasing levels of local agency (community ownership) and the acceptability of local scripture songs (active use), leading toward a stronger, localized Christian identity. Fusion genres bridged the gap of intergenerational transmission as younger generations found new ways of creating authentic music for communication. This correlation informed everything we completed and led us to our "process" focus as discussed above and our emphasis on the fundamental importance of local agency. Figure 1 below illustrates how we see our place in increasing local agency, blending our own concepts with those of Saurman and Portugal:

**Figure 1.** As local agency increases, the outsider role moves from catalyst to consultant.

#### *Catalyst to Consultant*

As we worked and lived with local communities for extended periods, our identities changed as well, as we adapted to the local environment. We also knew that we would never be fully local in the same way as those who have grown up in these communities, so we constantly reevaluated how we could best encourage more local agency. We often started out in a community as a catalyst to musical localization, but we were always trying to move to become more of a consultant–learning together with local facilitators. Because of this movement, we did not repeat the same activities, but we innovated and changed.

I (Author 1) no longer live in Maluku, but those who learned with me have continued to fuel the fire of musical localization all over Maluku. Anez Latupeirissa, the composer of the song in the introduction to this article, recently went to a remote GPM church in Maluku to help local strengthen musical localization by teaching congregants to play Moluccan bamboo flutes and electric keyboards. Pontong continues to write songs and promote their use in the GPM church, and they are planning to create a new GPM songbook with all original liturgical music.

I (Author 2) no longer live in Central Sulawesi, but I still coordinate with the Peronde Arts Group from time to time. They are very active and continue to write songs, create videos, and perform. They are thinking critically about the future of their culture and are making decisions to shape fusion genres. Once, they heard the Dayak *sape* performed and decided it would be an interesting addition to their ensemble. A member described to me the important connection he felt with the Dayak as another ethnic minority group in Indonesia, and wanted to add these new sounds out of a sense of solidarity (Sanggar Seni Peronde 2016). Peronde has also founded a children's arts group to pass on cultural knowledge and teach new generations about Tado clothing, dance, and song styles (Sanggar Seni Peronde 2017).

As new fusions are created and musical localization takes root in Christian communities, the Christian faith is translated and retranslated more deeply into the local culture, resulting in a dynamic and fully local Christian identity. Having the ability to innovate their arts allows local Christian communities to flex their identities as well within a rapidly changing world. The past thirty years in Indonesia have seen a renewed interest in traditional language and culture as the pendulum has swung from three decades of intense nationalism under Suharto (Davidson and Henley 2007; Amin 2021). At the same time, increased communication, easier transportation, and Indonesian transmigration programs have spread global and national culture to the far reaches of the archipelago.

In some ways, the situation is similar to the folk revivals of the 1960s and 70s in America. Writing about those events, Schnell states, "Whereas the nationalists were interested in creating a sense of nationhood, a sense of common identity beyond the bounds of the individual's community, the purpose [of modern folk revivalists] is to break away from the broader national culture and to reconnect with the local" (Schnell 2003, p. 24). In the case of Indonesia, it is not as much to "break away" as it is a movement toward national recognition while celebrating the plurality and diversity of Indonesia. Hall comments, "Perhaps instead of thinking of identity as an already accomplished fact, which the new cultural practices then represent, we should think, instead, of identity as a 'production,' which is never complete, always in process" (Hall 1989, p. 222).

#### **6. Conclusions**

A healthy local identity is always in motion, as are vibrant local arts. The localization of music is the natural counterpart to scripture translation as a way for Christian communities to strengthen their identities. They consciously use a wide variety of musical resources to do so. We encouraged local agency through discussions about local arts in our workshops, allowing the participants to lead the conversations and research. The creative process naturally leads communities towards musical localization, autogenic research, strengthening local arts, authenticity, and ultimately stronger identities.

Our work as catalysts and consultants in the process of musical localization helped communities to flex and adapt to the constant changes in our world. In our focus on local Christian songwriting alongside scripture translation, we recognized that a flourishing local Christian community has a strong identity as followers of Christ and a clear sense of local identity and agency in shaping their theology, culture, beliefs, and resulting way of being-in-the-world.

That is our goal. We love new songs and the opportunity to participate in that process. However, even as we enjoy local musical traditions from across the vast Indonesian archipelago, our greater desire is to see thriving, vibrant, flourishing local communities who know who they are, and what and in whom they believe.

**Author Contributions:** Both authors collaborated equally on the conceptualization, methodology, analysis, writing, and editing of this paper. Both authors have read and agreed to the published version of the manuscript.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Institutional Review Board Statement:** Not applicable.

**Informed Consent Statement:** Informed consent was obtained for all subjects in this study, including all workshops described in this paper.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The authors declare no conflict of interest.

#### **Notes**


#### **References**

Amin, Mohammad. 2021. *Musik Itu Politik*. Jakarta: Yayasan Pustaka Obor Indonesia.

Beay, John F. 2015. Mari Gandong Sudara Hatie. Available online: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EfN-FwoLyo4 (accessed on 12 August 2021).


Sanggar Seni Peronde. 2017. Pue Nopatuwu. Available online: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0VXmAXzmKLk (accessed on 15 July 2021).

Saurman, Todd. 2013. Singing for Survival in the Highlands of Cambodia: Revitalization of Music as Mediation and Cultural Reflexivity. Ph.D. dissertation, Chiang Mai University, Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Schnell, Steven M. 2003. Creating Narratives of Place and Identity in 'Little Sweden, U. *S.A.' Geographical Review* 93: 1–29.


van der Leeuw, Gerardus. 1963. *Sacred and Profane Beauty: The Holy in Art*. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Walls, Andrew F. 2015. *Missionary Movement in Christian History: Studies in the Transmission of Faith*, 1st ed. Maryknoll: ORBIS.

Wendland, Ernst. 2005. Aspects of 'Quality' and 'Quality Control' in Bible Translation, with Reference to Psalm 134. Available online: https://www.academia.edu/37023309/Aspects\_of\_quality\_and\_quality\_control\_in\_Bible\_translation\_with\_reference\_ to\_Psalm\_134 (accessed on 12 August 2021).

Yampolsky, Philip. 2001. Can the Traditional Arts Survive, and Should They? *Indonesia*, 175–85. [CrossRef]

## *Article Sur-Sangam* **and Punjabi Zabur (Psalms 24:7–10): Messianic and Missiological Perspectives in the Indian Subcontinent**

**Eric Sarwar**

Center for Worship & Music Studies, Gujranwala Theological Seminary, Gujranwala 52250, Pakistan; ericsarwar@fuller.edu

**Abstract:** How does the local raga-based music setting of Psalm 24:7–10 become associated with Christian identity in an Islamic context? How does Psalm 24 strengthen the faith of the marginalized church and broaden messianic hope? In what ways does Psalm 24:7–10 equip local Christians for missional engagement? This paper focuses on the convergence of the local raga-based musical concept of *sur-sangam* and the revealed text of Punjabi Psalms/Zabur 24:7–10. It argues that while poetic translated text in Punjabi vernacular remains a vital component of theological pedagogy, local music expresses the emotional voice that (re)assures of the messianic hope and mandates missional engagement in Pakistan. Throughout the convergence, musical, messianic, and missional perspectives are transformed to a local phenomenon and its practice is perceived in a cross-cultural connection. Furthermore, examining the text and tune of Punjabi Zabur (Psalms) 24:7–10 in the Indo-Pak context may stretch the spectrum of religious repertoire in the contemporary intercultural world.

**Keywords:** *sur-sangam*; Punjabi Psalms; Indian ragas; aesthetic theory; intercultural; missiology; messianic kingdom; Islam; ethnomusicology

"The *ibadat* (Arabic: worship) and *namaz* (Persian: prayer) of the artist is his *sangeet* (Sanskrit: singing together). The sound of the *mandir bells* (Hindu temple) and the *moazin's voice* (Islamic prayer caller) has one call, and that is *sangeet* ... "1

#### **1. Introduction**

During preparation for the fifth annual Zabur2 Festival 2021<sup>3</sup> at Artesia City Indo-Pak Christian Reformed Church in Southern California,<sup>4</sup> the church's youth dance choreographer organized the dance performance for the Psalms festival. Surprisingly, instead of using the Psalm track sent to her, she insisted on preparing and performing on the contemporary track of Punjabi Zabur (Psalm 24:7–10). In response, she stated that the contemporary track is more rhythmic and engaging for a dance performance. Her preference of Punjabi Psalm 24:7–10 shows the impact of localized music on the young generation living in their homeland and the Indo-Pak diaspora. Recently, the revival of singing, praying, preaching, and reading psalms is gaining momentum in the Pakistani context.<sup>5</sup> Even the original and lost melodies of Psalm 24:1–6 are available.6 Although the current revival of Punjabi psalm-singing needs further investigation, this paper's focus is Psalm 24:7–10 in the Indo-Pak context. The analysis of the sacred soundscape of the Indian subcontinent and the critical concept of *sur-sangam*<sup>7</sup> lead to identifying the musical localization on the Indian land.

#### **2. Locating the Local**

In the introduction of the book *Making Congregational Music Local in Christian Communities Worldwide*, Monique Ingalls and her musical scholar co-authors propose "musical localization" as a helpful category because of the way Christian communities take a variety of musical practices and "make them locally meaningful in the composition of Christian beliefs, theology, practice, and identity" (Ingalls et al. 2018).

**Citation:** Sarwar, Eric. 2021. *Sur-Sangam* and Punjabi Zabur (Psalms 24:7–10): Messianic and Missiological Perspectives in the Indian Subcontinent. *Religions* 12: 1116. https://doi.org/10.3390/ rel12121116

Academic Editors: John MacInnis and Jeremy Perigo

Received: 4 November 2021 Accepted: 7 December 2021 Published: 20 December 2021

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2021 by the author. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

Scholarship on India's local music has covered the wide breadth of Indic music concepts. The father of the significant "theorizing the local" in the Indian subcontinent was Singer (1958), who focuses on the urbanized Madras, South India's "cultural performances" through the "ladder of abstractions" (Singer 1958, p. 351). Following his footsteps, many scholars sharpened their skills by theorizing the local music of India, arguing for various local perspectives. For instance, in addition to musical phrases, atmosphere, musical space, events, and instruments, "local refers to a concrete locale where musicians make and think about music, such as a venue for performance or instruction" (Wolf 2009).

Additionally, Indic local music is the hybridity of the Hindu-Muslim religious and cultural system (Gracin 2011; Qureshi 1987). Between the eleventh and sixteenth centuries, India experienced Islamic invasions. The twelfth century saw the start of the tremendous outpouring of religious poetry in the erotic Sanskrit *Gita Govinda.* During the fifteenth century, a blending of Sufism and *bhakti* (devotion) epitomizes the work of Kabir, Surdas, Ramdas, Mirabai, Guru Nanak, and myriads of local poet musicians across the Indian subcontinent (Ruckert 2004; Wolf 2009; Fletcher 2001). Local sound became wedded with central Asian and Persian music. Amir Khusrou introduced *Sufi* singing styles and established the *ghazal* as a North Indian genre, while *Dhrupad* and *Khayal* singing developed in Turkish Sultan courts (Fletcher 2001, p. 234; Guenther 2018; Qureshi 1986). By the fifteenth century, the royal court in Gwalior had become a leading centre of musical activity. The famous Mian Tan Sen musicianship mesmerized the Mughal emperor Akbar (Fletcher 2001). It can be inferred that the Indian subcontinent is where raga-based classical music was heard only in courts and temples (Ruckert 2004, p. 5). While the social aspect of music entertained elites, sacred music engaged ordinary people in the Indian subcontinent's spirituality (Qureshi 2000, 2006; Ewing 1980; Wolf 2014). The bird's eye view of the historical continuity of localized Indic music leads us to navigate the aesthetic theory of Indic music.

#### **3.** *Navrassa***: Navigating the Local**

Music expresses human emotions and experiences. The theory of aesthetic emotion *rasa* (juice/sap of the tree) or *bhavna* (expression of the sangeet)—signifies a continuous current of emotion: an emotion that the composer imagines, the actors and dancers represent, and that arises spontaneously in the presentation. The earliest treatise of Indic musicology describes eight primary moods or "rass" emotive expressions of the Indian sangeet (music, dance, and instruments). Later, peace was enlisted as the ninth rass, known as the *Navrass*, the nine moods. However, musical performance conveys "the first four, and the ninth" shades of emotions in the ragas (Ruckert 2004). An understanding of localized aesthetic theory leads us to explore the music system of ragas. Below is a chart of the nine emotions in Indian aesthetic theory (Table 1).

**Table 1.** Nine emotions in Indian aesthetic theory (Ruckert 2004).


#### **4. Indic Music System of Raga** ̱έ

Ragas are generally known as the melodic basis of the classical music of India. The raga resembles a scale in a Western musical system but is also a "meaning system". A raga is composed of *surs* (notes or keys on a piano) in a particular scale. Ragas are similar to clay (raw material) from the subcontinent's soil to be made into a pot on the potter's wheel of the composer's imagination. Joep Bor defines raga this way:

Broadly speaking a raga can be regarded as a tonal framework for composition and improvisation; a dynamical musical entity with a unique form, embodying a unique musical idea. As well as the fixed scale, there are features particular to each raga such as the order and hierarchy of its tones, their manner of intonation and ornamentation, their relative strength and duration, and specific approach. Where ragas have identical scales, they are differentiated by virtue of these musical characteristics (Bor [1999] 2002).

A raga should be no fewer than five notes. There are the following three kinds of ragas: pentatonic (*arruv*), hexatonic (*kharruv*), and heptatonic (*sampooran*). A raga could be described by its characteristics of *arohi* and *amrohi*—an ascending and descending pattern of sargam, a set of seven notes: Sa, Re, Ga, Ma, Pa, Dha, Ni (similar to the Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, Ti of Western scales). Five of these seven notes further divide into *surtis* (small microtonal units) for a total of twenty-two surtis in the octave.<sup>8</sup> Each raga contains four structural characteristics of surti, sur, vadi, and samvadi. The moveable Sa (*kharaj*) is equal to the tonic of the major scale that can be adjusted or in tune according to the preferred pitch of singers or congregation. The raga is a set of notes that express human emotions. The first written treatise on the Indian classical music of ragas and rhythms was compiled by the Indian musicologist Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande (1860–1936).<sup>9</sup> Ragas are classified by different criteria. The following are a few categories: number of notes, time of day, the personification of the principal raga (6 ragas—male, 36 raginis—female), the *thaat* system (framework for arranging the seven notes of the scale; Bhatkhande's system has 10 thaats), and rasa (emotions).<sup>10</sup> Figure 1 illustrates the complex circle of raga classification, which will be discussed in more detail in the next section.

**Figure 1.** Raga Search Wheel (http://oceanofragas.com/Raga\_search\_wheel.aspx, accessed on 6 December 2021).

#### *4.1. Classification of Raga and Thaat*

During the ninth century, there was a bewildering musical classification system. Music gurus (teachers) introduced the concept of raga and ragini (male and female) from the fourteenth through to the nineteenth centuries. This system consisted of six male patriarchal ragas, each with five or six raginis (wives) as well as sons (putra) and daughters-in-law. This classification also represented the relational and communal culture of Southwest Asia. Ragas were described in terms of the personification of family and community. A third classification was introduced again on the basis of scales, and this classification was adopted by Bhatkhande. His work was known as the most influential and pragmatic raga classification and was based on ten heptatonic scale types called *thaat* (framework). According to Bhatkhande, "the thaat is a scale using all seven notes including Sa (first note) and Pa (fifth note). In his system all ragas are grouped under ten scale types, each of which is named after a prominent raga that uses the note verities in question" (Bor [1999] 2002). The oral traditional music of India is related to the universe's harmony, in contrast to the structured tonal music of Western tradition (Begbie 2007). Systems of thaat (ten families of music) for ragas are classified according to categories such as season, feeling, and mood of human nature. They are also classified according to the time of day: For instance, bhairav thaat (early morning raga) is more contemplative and devotional than the friendly and cheerful ragini bhairavi (daytime ragini) or the joyful mood of the evening bilawal thaat in a major scale.

#### *4.2. Taal (Rhythm Patterns)*

The sound of Indian drums and rhythm patterns are known for their cheerful and heart-rending emotional effects. The raga music is a mark, identity, and bond for ethnic communities to connect "by virtue of life experience, of certain emotional feelings or meaning associated with that raga" (Miller and Shahriari 2009). A famous musical proverb says, "A person without melodic understanding or sur (musical note) can sing, but without rhythmic understanding can't sing". *Taal* refers to tali (clap). The circle of taal starts and ends at the first tali. The completion of the circle is called *sam* (a foot of a horse). Usually, taal is accompanied by the tabla, small two-piece hand drums covered with the stretched skin of a cow or goat, and dholak (a cylinder-style drum instrument). The Indian rhythm is complex, and a player uses an additive rhythm in regular, double, triple, and quadruple times. The Indian rhythm and metric cycle classify into 120 taals.11

#### *4.3. Ragas and the Religious Repertoires*

In the context of Hindu spiritual expression, music is one of the vehicles that transports devotees from a state of being that interacts with the natural world to one of engaging the supernatural (Viladesau 2000; Gort et al. 1989). In contrast to Western music, which aims to "conquer nature", Indian music "aspires to the harmony of nature and man" (Loh 2011, p. 20). The classical raga-based devotional Indic music spectrum "convey[s] meaning" (Ruckert 2004). Furthermore, ragas are classified into the following two *Prakriti* (nature) categories: *ghambir* (severe) and *chanchel* (light) (Ruckert 2004; Wade [1983] 1999). The ghambir nature of raga is related to *bhakti* rass, as mentioned earlier. The bhakti (worship) movement in the fifteenth through to the sixteenth centuries produced myriads of *bhajan*, *kirtan*, and *Sufi* songs (Qureshi 2000, 2006; Ewing 1980; Wolf 2014; Guenther 2018). The emotive expression, "tangible manifestation of the affect" or mood of the raga attracts the audience and authenticates the artist (Ruckert 2004). A musician composes a melody according to the emotional requirement of the text or occasion. A devoted disciple of the local music spends years engaging and experiencing the expression of the raag.

For Christian congregational music, the Methodist mission produced a repertoire on "the styles of rhyme peculiar to [Urdu]" and North American Presbyterians in Punjab published *Git ki Kitab* and *Punjabi Zabur: Desi Ragan Vich*. However, the hymn book contained "only the lyrics of the hymns, *bhajans*, *ghazals*, and Sunday School songs in the Christian tradition of India" (Guenther 2018). The delineation of these categories expresses that localized Christian congregational music converges with their religious counterparts. For instance, the Shi'as *marsiya/soz* share the congregational element, the Sunnis share the content of praise, and the Sufis share the use of musical instruments. One aspect that binds all the religious traditions in the Indian subcontinent is the shared heritage of music. With this background of the local music and religious repertoire in mind, we can specifically explore the convergence of Psalm 24:7–10 in its expression of messianic hope and missional engagement. Departing from the aesthetic theory of rass, ragas, and religious repertoire, the Punjabi Psalter's story helps us explore and analyze Punjabi Psalm 24:7–10.

#### **5. The Punjabi Psalter**

Scholars have distinct perspectives about the localized religious repertoire. For instance, hymn books seem to be a tool "completing the circle of dialogue and conversation" (Guenther 2018), while the use of Punjabi psalms is a "process that is dialectical, synthetic, and hybrid rather than one limited to appropriation and indigenization" (Cox 2013, 2015). The first Punjabi psalm was introduced to the Western world by D. T. Niles. He used the melody of Punjabi Psalm 145, "Maharban, Maharban, Maharban", which means "gracious, gracious, gracious" (from verse 8, NIV).12 This melody was adapted by Niles and translated into Tamil with the words of Psalm 61 in Western music notation. I-to Loh also introduced melodies from the Punjabi Zabur (22:22–31, 32:8–11, 72:17–19, 84, and 100) into the Christian Conference of Asia (CCA) hymnal. Loh states, "Psalm singing has been very strong in the history of Pakistani churches, and most of these texts were set to traditional or folk melodies. This points to the possibility of a huge repertoire of contextualized psalmody in Pakistan that awaits further investigation" (Loh 2011, p. 335). Emily Brink reflected on psalm-singing after she visited Pakistan in 2009 and stated, "North America is a literate culture, and we use musical notation in hymnals. But most Pakistani Christians are illiterate and sing by rote" (Brink 2015, p. 16).

The Punjabi Psalter has been a successful endeavor to break the mold of Western Christianity, shaping Christian worship to be more relevant in the localized music context of Pakistan (Loh 2011, p. xv). The Punjabi Zabur (Psalms) as a book is called the "Bible of the Illiterate" in Pakistan. The first edition of the Punjabi Psalter was published in Banaras, India, in 1908 with Western musical notation and Roman Punjabi dialect. The purpose of this publication was theological rather than musical. The focus of the Punjabi Psalter was the accuracy of the text and the fervency of spirit. Thus, in translating the Psalms into lyrical Punjabi, similar to translating from Hebrew into metrical English, "the primary aim was a literal rendition of the meaning, while poetical form was of minor concern" (Jamison 1958, p. 121).

Translating and composing Psalms in the native language was developed to sustain the religious life of both the missionaries and the converts. Until 1883, the worship community in the Punjab region was dependent upon chants or a few metrical versions published in the book of *Zabur aur Geet* (Psalms and Hymns) by other missions (Stewart 1896). However, there were only a few pieces, and they did not correspond very closely to the original. Therefore, the Presbyterian mission decided to produce a separate worship resource. Before 1882, however, little progress was made, "partly because those interested in the work oscillated between the adoption of Eastern and Western meters" (Stewart 1896, p. 303; Guenther 2018). In 1882, the Psalm Committee was commissioned by the Presbytery to prepare a first version in Western meter. By October 1891, all 150 psalms had been published in Persian character, and subsequently, they also appeared in Roman script (Stewart 1896, p. 303). Imam ul Din Shahbaz (1845–1921), a gifted poet and a convert from Islam who worked in an Anglican church, was appointed to translate the book of Psalms into poetic form based on Urdu, Persian, and English. The chairman of the Psalm Committee and others rendered assistance to confirm the exact meaning of the original Hebrew. Shahbaz worked so hard that he lost his sight in the middle of the project. However, his passion was so great that he continued with the help of a young companion, Babu Sadiq. When his translation work was eventually compared with the Hebrew, it was

found to be so excellent that it seemed God had given the psalms in the Punjabi language. Stewart noted, "These Psalms have given us great aid and satisfaction in the ordinance of praise" (Stewart 1896, p. 303).

The next phase of the project was the musical composition in native meters and melodies of these lyrical psalms. It was found necessary to prepare versions of the bhajan form, and that too in Punjabi. Meanwhile, in 1890, the mission appointed a new committee composed of all American missionaries, with the Rev. D. S. Lytle as chairman. Soon the committee realized that without native help they would be unable to finish the task. Stock (1968) states that long hours were spent in the marketplaces and cafes listening to current Indian tunes. Shahbaz than paraphrased these psalms into Punjabi verse to fit the meter of these indigenous tunes. It was an indigenous approach with familiar tone and rhythm patterns. This monumental effort was begun in the 1890s and completed in 1910. As already stated, all 150 psalms were translated and lyrically composed by Imam Din Shahbaz, a Muslim convert, born in Zafarwaal, a UP mission station in Punjab in Pakistan. A Hindu musician named Radha Kishan composed the raga-based musical setting of this Punjabi Psalter. An attempt was made to translate it into the Urdu language first, but it did not succeed because the majority of converted people belonged to the Punjabi ethnicity. The committee of the Punjabi Psalter decided to translate the Psalter into Punjabi lyrical poetry to provide a worship resource for these former Hindus. Most of the tunes were not treated as a musical interpretation of the text but were only composed for the sake of keeping the text.

The method of obtaining and adopting local tunes (public or folk raga-based songs) was opposed because of the original lyrics associated with those tunes. It was feared that people might remember the former "filthy words", which would prove detrimental to both worship and witness (Stewart 1896). Surprisingly, the former lyrics soon faded away from their memory and the worship community accepted the rich heritage of indigenous tunes set to the "mighty themes of the Psalms" (Stewart 1896). In 1893, the first edition of Psalms published fifty-five selections of psalms with music. Lytle was responsible for the notation of most of the music, "the airs [melodies] being such as he found already established in the songs of the people" (Stewart 1896, p. 304). These Indian raga-based, bhajan-style psalms became the power tool for both religious instruction in village congregations and evangelistic campaigns at melas, or in bazar work (Stewart 1896; Stock 1968). Stewart expressed his views about these bhajan-style psalms in the psalter:

Yet, some of its tunes are most delightful. Their very weirdness, wildness, plaintiveness and curious repetitions chain the attention and entrance the heart even of a foreigner, and to a native are as irresistible as the songs of paradise. Of some hill airs [ragas] introduced into a new edition of a Hindustani tune book, containing *bhajans* and *gazals*, the preface says, " ... " Indeed, were it not for the popular songs which it has produced, Hinduism would be shorn of half its power. (Stewart 1896)

#### Fred Stock wrote:

It is difficult to estimate the spiritual impact of such a treasure of Scripture set to music and words readily understood and appreciated by the masses. Not only did it provide a medium for more meaningful worship, expressing praise, adoration, thanksgiving, confession, and consecration, but it was easily memorized Scripture with power to guard the heart from temptation and sin. (Stock 1968; Hrangkhuma 1996)

Even after a century, no one has found any poetical or theological problems in these translations. The Punjabi translations of Psalms (Zabur) were formed into 405 parts, all using the same meter, and composed in indigenous ragas: Musical scales were the bulwark against Western hymnology and gave voice to local people to sing in their heart language and lyrics in the simple cadence of rote memory. I. D. Shahbaz, the Punjabi Psalter translator, beautifully paints the textual picture from Psalm 24:7–10 to evoke a sense of

God's kingship.13 The versified text is crafted as couplet stanzas and refrains in the genre called *Geet* and *Ghazal*. Almost all the modern published hymnals in Pakistan contain the Zabur 24: 7–10.

The analysis of Psalm 24:7–10 reveals that Pakistan's sacred soundscape is multivalent. Nevertheless, devotional and emotive aspects are dominant in the Indic music (Neuman 1990; Ruckert 2004; Wolf 2014). Moreover, it uses double discourse: The inclusion of this mixed-Indic sound and Psalm text (as sacred scripture) creates *sur-sangam*: combined art (poetical and musical) to open doors for identity, messianic kingdom, and missional engagement. Above given (Figure 2) is the title cover and a staff notation of the traditional Punjabi zabor 24. Given below (Figure 3) is the lyrical poetry and English translation of the Punjabi Zabur 24. Amidst the loss of more than 300 local musical settings, the traditional tune and the text of Psalm 24:7–10 were kept alive in the rubble of history.

**Figure 2.** (**left**) Title page of the Punjabi Psalter 1908; (**right**) Text and tune of traditional Psalm 24:7–10.


**Figure 3.** Urdu Text of Psalm 24:7–10, with English translation (Firdaus and Firdous 2003).

During the past two decades, three versions of Psalm 24:7–10 emerged: a new composition by Subhash Gill,<sup>14</sup> a traditional tune by Hammad Baily,15 and a contemporary choral piece by Lew the Twins.16 The following is an analysis of the traditional tune by Baily and the new musical setting by Gill.

#### **6. Traditional Tune of the Punjabi Zabur 24:7–10**

The traditional tune of 24:7–10 is composed in raga *Bilawal*. Bilawal is the sweetest, most compassionate, and best-loved raga in Indian music (Bor [1999] 2002). This *shudh sampoorn raga* (major scale of seven notes) corresponds to the Western natural scale in an ascending and descending pattern. This raga is used to express devotion and deep love.<sup>17</sup> The Bilawal family is still used to sing Sufi and folk songs, and it is also famous for light film songs. The music notation (sargam) of raga *Bilawal* (tabl) is given below (Figure 4). Traditionally, the time of this raga is the evening. Nevertheless, it is an accepted norm and is allowed to be sung from dawn to dusk for any purpose.18

**Figure 4.** Sargam (music notation) of raga Bilawal.

Pakistani singer Hammad Baily renders this tune's recent modification with a brass band, which enhances the majestic, glorified, and massive nature. Due to the flexibility of rules in performance, the singer used the F# (first black key in a set of three) in this melody but beautifully used the rest of the six notes in this tune. The refrain of this tune is simple, sung in a unison chant, keeping singers at the second half of the scale on high notes. The emotional mood of this tune raises the devotional and compassionate feeling of the congregation. It has a distinctive mood, and its characteristic melodic phrases allow singers to move quickly on notes, and all the voices can sing together. The singer's joyful chant invites other voices to join in harmony. The first stanza starts from an E-flat note, right in the middle of the scale that leads to the third part of the tune at B-flat, which is higher than the first two parts. The third part infuses the energy and joy in singing to return to the home key on the refrain on a lower note. Following the demand of the text, this tune weighs on the second part of the scale, which helps singers lift their voices on the high notes. The climax of the tune descends to B-flat and jumps toward the highest point. After responding to the first part, the tune glides down speedily to the refrain as if the singers were rushing to the King's throne. The joyful intensity of this melodic structure motivates the congregation to express their devotion with exuberant reverence and hope.

Tune Variations: The traditional tune is divided into five parts and sung in unison. A—Opening chant with the singer accompanied by the brass band: "Who is the king of glory?" Congregational harmony: "Who is the king of perfection?"

All together: "Mighty is the Lord in battle, he is King of glory."

B—Refrain by trumpet: "God our Lord is King of glory, he is King of glory."

C—Refrain with rhythm and full band:


The congregation sings verse one in unison and repeats it twice. The third part of this tune is sung—or played—on high notes, which infuses spiritual energy into the congregation. The tune is circular and a response to the phrase "God our Lord is King of Glory", which evokes unimaginable strength and power. The practice of unison singing gives singing space to everyone. By the time the text proclaims and answers the questions about the King of glory, the climax becomes the loudest. Since the second part of each verse comes full circle to the strength of the reign of God, the percussive beat embellishes the melody and uses the same descending beat for an extension to the ending, allowing the music and the voices to wind down slowly. The third part of each stanza is sung on upper notes that find their flow in rhythm and brings the feel of connectivity with the whole piece. The rhythmic beat rolls the tune, and a little syncopation in the melody accompanied by underlying forte enhances joy. The expectation and hope help to illuminate another facet of God's reign, also serving as a contrast in mood, texture, and dynamic to the first and third variations of the melody.

Culturally, congregations sing this tune without any interlude. It is sung as a whole piece of music that creates space for the congregation to dwell on the words they have just sung. Psalm 24:7–10 gives the sense of a royal wedding, as posed by Hammad Baily in his video. It invites everyone to the banquet and welcomes those who accept that invitation. By using the image of a traditional Indian wedding, Baily produced a music video of this traditional tune in his small village of Pakistan with a brass band to express the wedding of the Lamb (Revelation 19:7–10) in a broader Pakistani context.

#### **7. New Contemporary Tune by Subhash Gill**

The early 1990s brought two new names of Christian gospel singers who impacted the gospel singing ministry in the Indian subcontinent: Ernest Mall from Pakistan and Subhash Gill from India. Gill is a composer and singer, currently residing in the U.K. Despite how most Punjabi congregations still love to sing the traditional melody of Psalm 24:7–10, Gill's 2003 contemporary version has gained the same fame among the congregations. This tune was recorded on his sixth album, "*Sana Gao*" (Sing Praises). Gill chose raga *Bheempalasi*, one of the ten significant families of Indian ragas. "Raga *Bheempalasi* is for the very late afternoon, when the sky is red, and all the animals are basking in the last sunshine" (Ruckert 2004). The melodic structure of Bheempalasi contains a penta-hexa-tonic style, five notes ascending and seven notes descending in this melody. Most often, this raga is used for singing folk and Sufi poetry. The raga mood is sad and represents the expectations of a reunion after the absence of a beloved one. This expression raises hope and expectancy to console desire and longing during the length of separation, pain, and loneliness. The music notation *(sargam*) of the raga Bheempalasi (Figure 5) is given below.

**Figure 5.** Image of raga Bheempalasi notes.

An essential component of Hindustani music involves a direct relationship between the verbiage of the melody and the underlying structural rhythms (Gracin 2011). Depending on several factors, such as the genre, the raga, and the composer's musical mastery, the degree of the relationship between word boundaries and syllables and the resulting rhythm can vary considerably. Gill explains that he chose this text for the following two reasons: first, theological themes of kingdom and glory, and second, the availability of the text in the native language. The melodic pattern moves the congregation to celebrate and shout for joy in the presence of the King. Congregations in Pakistan love to sing psalms and songs with an upbeat rhythm to engage people with clapping and dancing. The tune and text have a sense of prestige and prominence. It starts with the repetition of the word *Badshah,* which means King. The introduction starts with an upbeat rhythm pattern of ostinato. The cycle of the anthem chants runs four times. Using the C-minor scale, the word *Badshah* starts from a set of three notes (E-flat, F, and G), then a second set (F, G, and A), and a third set (G, A, C–B-flat), and the fourth set glides with A, F, and G notes. The theme is divided into three stand-alone variations, each reflecting on the text of the verse.

Variations:

Introduction—Tabla/dholak, djembe or electronic drum with claps: Ostinato four-beat rhythm.

A—Leader recites *Badshah* (He is King) four times.

B—Leader: *Rabb Khudawand Badshah* (Lord our God is King); congregation repeats.

C—Leader sings first stanza; congregation repeats (all four stanzas in the same pattern).

A—Psalm ends with the repetition of *Badshah.*

The confluence of text and tune (Psalm 24:7–10) accompanied by an upbeat rhythm pattern transforms the sad mood into joy and hope. This peaceful and tranquil mood holds the victorious textual concept of the heavenly King and court. The fluidity of the concluding part allows us to use other titles of Christ, such as "Messiah is King, Christ is King, Healer is my King". High notes and upbeat rhythm patterns both support each other, adding joy and happiness to singing. This text and tune bring hope to believers' hearts, and they sing with the anticipation of the coming King. The repetitive refrain "God our Lord is King of glory" reminds of God's victory again and again.

#### **8. Rhythms**

The rhythm pattern of tunes is *qawwali kehrwa* and *gidda.* It is a Punjabi rhythmic pattern for group dance and communal celebration that engages people to tap, clap, and move along with this melody. Both tunes of Psalm 24:7–10 are composed in an eight-beat *kehrwa.* This rhythmic pattern evokes the qualities of bodily movement characteristic of the emotions of joy and celebration. The cadences of both tunes are fast and express the intensity and eagerness of the worshipping community for the reign of God. The power of the rhythm pattern of *kehrwa* also binds people together and connects them with a shared emotion. It enables them to express emotions of both celebration and protest together celebration as people of God and protest as a suffering community of faith experiencing the delay of the reign of God. The combining rhythm beats of Psalm 24:7–10 uplift the people of God while clapping, dancing, and shouting, and emotions sustain their hope. The joy and celebrative mood of the text and tune help the community of faith find emotional meanings and move with the rhythms and rhymes of Psalm 24:7–10.

#### **9. Psalm 24:7–10 and Christian Identity**

The liturgical use of Psalm 24 in congregational singing celebrates the people's corporate identity and united activity in worship (Attridge and Fassler 2003; Adler 1992). The church in the Indian subcontinent traces its roots to the first century in the Thomas tradition. However, the first two waves of Christianity in Pakistan—the first-century St. Thomas in Taxila and the sixteenth-century Portuguese mission to the Mughal court—vanished due to their lack of vernacular and local musical resources. The third wave of modern Protestant

Christianity produced psalmody that has the strength to engage local people on the local ground in Pakistan (Sarwar 2021). Currently, Christians in Pakistan are surrounded by a complex society: First, the two-edged sword of the blasphemy law and institutional discrimination instill fear. Second, they practice their faith amidst Islam and Hinduism. Islamic religious practices both influence and are overwhelmed by a Hindu worldview. Third, they are living on the periphery of society in Pakistan, facing severe discrimination, persecution, and marginalization. As a poor, oppressed, and persecuted community of faith, they wait eagerly for God's reign to redeem them from an unjust situation. This psalm embodies a protest that expresses their dire reality as a marginalized minority group and gives voice to a contextual vision of peace, justice, and equality. Psalm 24:7–10 is a call to raise doors and gates, and to lift their hearts, hands, and voices against injustice. It is a powerful proclamation to face fear and to enter opened doors that allow them to participate in society, embodying Christian hope in a distinctly Pakistani articulation. The raga-based tunes assert that divine disclosure occurs among the marginalized, an affirmation and celebration of the view that the people are standing in the throne room of God. One of the most striking features of both tunes is the repetitious variation in the composed pieces. These variations evoke the relationship of identity.

#### **10. Psalm 24 and Messianic Hope**

Psalm 24 is well suited for a festal procession, particularly for a "liturgical and ritual purpose" (Mowinckle 1967; Witvliet 2015). The text of Psalm 24:7–10 evokes a perspective of Jesus' victory over death and the anticipation of his coming kingdom, while an imaginative picture of this text is majestic, royal, and strong (Goldingay 2006; Lamb 1962). The dynamic cohesion between form and content gives additional space for the composer to design a more musical expression. The anticipation of the coming kingdom invites the community to participate in the hope-filled dialogues through the text. The present continuous tense of "God our Lord is King of glory, He is King of glory" affirms the reality that God hears the cries of his suffering and persecuted children, and he is coming to redeem all that is wrong in creation, while for Christians, it is vastly important to recognize Christ as the glorious, perfect King and the Lord of hosts in the Zabu, the imperial nature of the text supports the form of praise. One of the reasons Psalm 24:7–10 has influenced such a broad array of congregants is the universal subject of the kingdom of heaven and eschatological hope. It emphatically inspired the theme of the "already but not yet" reign of God. During Skype interviews with both Pakistani gospel singers, Gill and Baily affirm the "majestic, massive and glorified" sense. The poetical rhyming paves a path to the raga-based melodic and rhythmic analysis of Psalm 24:7–10.

Regarding the messianic kingdom, there is an unresolved tension between the present and the future, manifest in the continuous tension between the "already" and the "not yet" in Jesus' ministry (Bosh 2014; Slotki 1932; Smart 1933). The liturgical purpose of Psalm 24 extrapolates to Christ's kingdom. Psalm 24:7–10 expresses the cultural and historical impact of emperors and kingdoms in India (Wolf 2009, 2014). The most critical aspect is imagining the messianic kingdom, in which longing and hope of faith have prominence. In the psalm (touching home keys in singing), each stanza returns to the refrain and speaks of a final point of arrival in the kingdom of God. The combination of emotions, pitch, dynamics, and rhythm pattern expands the vision of the kingdom. The psalm's imaginative spectrum is full of court, gates, King, doors, army, and guard imagery of the kingdom and is associated with majestic and royal occasions. The musical setting gives hope that there is a distinctly local, profoundly contextual vision of a kingdom in which God's reign is articulated in the local musical language. Singing Psalm 24:7–10 expands the messianic hope for the successful worship transition from one generation to the next. Both tunes connect the two ages of past and present that draw people deeper into union and communion with God in the expectation of the imminent *parousia* of Jesus Christ. The hope of the messianic kingdom strengthens the faith of the marginalized.

Additionally, the classical double art form of poetry and music in Psalm 24:7–10 invites us to inhabit and celebrate at the intersection of God's world and our world. N. T. Wright assured that "the words and music themselves are simultaneously acts of worship and expressions of worship itself" (Wright 2013). Psalm 24:7–10 has a messianic meaning that points to the coming of the perfect King, Jesus Christ. Amidst threatening attacks and fears from within, celebration and sorrows stand together in God's throne room. The local form of the ancient song is wedded to ancient raga for a new meaning and a new creation. The joyful music of Psalm 24:7–10 transforms the grievances, anger, and resentment into a victorious celebration to face the fury of persecution and injustice.

#### **11. Psalm 24 and Missional Engagement**

During the late twentieth and early twenty-first century, inculturation and critical contextualization gained attention as missional tools for cross-cultural mission practitioners (Kraft 2005; Hiebert 1987). Lamin Saneh's book *Translating the Message* includes the indigenous expressions of music to translate in local culture (Saneh 1989). However, Christian anthropologists propose an approach going "Beyond Contextualization" (Shaw 2010), while communication consultants aim to translate the *cultural text*, defined as "music, arts, story-telling and dance" by King (2019), for communicating the gospel. The Psalms provide a missional mandate and model to rethink and reorganize the pattern of Christian spirituality for South and Central Asia (Sarwar 2021). Translating Psalms into cultural texts fosters faithful friendship among Muslims (King 2019; Hiebert 1987; Sarwar 2021). Randall Bradley asserts, "Christ came to redeem the world, and Christ can redeem any music" (Bradley 2012, p. 109). Even John Calvin used the local melodies from ordinary everyday life (Huh 2012, p. 16). The Psalms redeem cultural texts and tunes and extend worship from prayer and praise to global proclamation through music (King 2019). The twenty-first century has witnessed the global rise of cultural music with the text of psalms. Concerning the raga-based musical settings for singing Psalm 24:7–10, during the 1970s most of the psalms and hymns were sung and played by professional Muslim singers. This participation is an inclusive approach to the present messianic kingdom. Singing Punjabi Psalms keeps the gates and doors of the kingdom open, with the hope that all the world comes to Christ the King.

#### **12. Conclusions**

The book of Psalms/Zabur is a common heritage of divine song that can be used as a bridge for witness between Muslims and Christians. Since the late 1800s, with the development of the Punjabi Psalter, contextualized psalmody has been an important part of the Pakistani worship experience. Ragas, as the melodic basis of the classical music of the Indian subcontinent, connect to the emotions and hearts of those who participate in the music. The *sur-sangam* of text and tune (the confluence of poetical and musical art) conveys deep meaning to the local populace, becoming a means of spiritual expression.

This paper explores Psalm 24:7–10, both its historic and contemporary musical variations, especially in connection to Christian identity, the messianic hope, and transformed missional engagement in the local context of Pakistan. The vernacular and victorious vocabulary, local raga-based emotive and melodic structure, and upbeat, jubilant rhythmic pattern make the Punjabi Psalm 24:7–10 the most widespread of the liturgical psalms. It is a prophetic path, extends beyond the church walls, and is indispensable to the *missio Dei*. While singing Psalm 24:7–10, we may bring seekers of truth to a point where they may be surprised by the Truth, the Way, and the Life.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Institutional Review Board Statement:** Not applicable.

**Informed Consent Statement:** Not applicable.

**Data Availability Statement:** Not applicable.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The authors declare no conflict of interest.

#### **Notes**


#### **References**

#### **Primary Source**

(Punjabi Zabur 1908) Punjabi Zabur. 1908. *Punjabi Zabur: Desi Ragan Vich Jehre Ki*, 1st ed. Banaras: Medical Hall Press.

(Witvliet 2015) Witvliet, John D. 2015. Music and Arts in Christian Worship, Calvin Institute of Christian Worship, Class Notes, February, p. 9. September 2014.

#### **Secondary Sources**

Adler. 1992. The Historical Background of Psalm 24. *Jewish Bible Quarterly* 20: 268–70, 278.

Attridge, Harold W., and Margot E. Fassler, eds. 2003. *Psalms in Community: Jewish and Christian Textual, Liturgical and Artistic Traditions*. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature.

Begbie, Jeremy S. 2007. *Resounding Truth: Christian Wisdom in the World of Music*. Grand Rapids: Bake Academics.

Bor, Joep, ed. 2002. *The Raga Guide: A Survey of 74 Hindustani Ragas*. Rotterdam: Zenith Media, Monmouthshire: Wyastone Estate. First published 1999.

Bosh, David J. 2014. *Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission*. Maryknoll: Orbis Books.

Bradley, Randall C. 2012. *From Memory to Imagination: Reforming the Church's Music*. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company.

Brink, Emily R. 2015. Psalm-Singer from Pakistan. *Calvin Theological Seminary Forum* 22: 16.


Goldingay, John. 2006. *Psalms: Volume 1*. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic.

Gort, Jerald, Hendrik Vroom, Rein Fernhout, and Anton Wessels. 1989. *Dialogue and Syncretism: An Interdisciplinary Approach*. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Amsterdam: Editions Rodopi.

Gracin, M. J. 2011. *An Inquiry into Contextualized Christian Expression in India*. Lynchburg: Liberty University Press.

Guenther, Alan M. 2018. *Ghazals, Bhajans, and Hymns: The Dialogical Nature of Hindustani Christian Music in 19th Century North India*. Edinburgh: Briercrest College and Seminary.

Hiebert, Paul G. 1987. Critical Contextualization. *International Bulletin of Missionary Research* 11: 104–12. [CrossRef]

Hrangkhuma, F. 1996. The Church in Pakistan. In *Church in Asia Today: Challenges and Opportunities*. Edited by Saphir Athyal. Singapore: The Asian Lausanne Committee.

Huh, Paul Junggap. 2012. *Singing the Psalms*. Liturgy: Journal of the Liturgical Conference 27.


Mowinckle, Sigmund. 1967. *The Psalms in Israel's Worship*. Translated by D. R. Ap-Thomas. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press.


Saneh, Lamin. 1989. *Translating the Message: The Missionary Impact on Culture*. Maryknoll: Orbis Books.


Singer, Milton B. 1958. The Great Tradition in a Metropolitan Center: Madras. *Journal of American Folklore* 71: 347–88. [CrossRef]

Slotki, Israel Wolf. 1932. The Text and the Ancient Form of Recital of Psalm 24 and Psalm 124. *Journal of Biblical Literature* 51: 214–26. [CrossRef]

Smart, James D. 1933. The Eschatological Interpretation of Psalm 24. *Journal of Biblical Literature* 52: 175–80. [CrossRef]

Stewart, Robert. 1896. *Life and Work in India*. Philadelphia: Pearl Publishing Company.

Stock, Frederick Earl. 1968. *Church Growth in West Pakistan with Special Emphasis upon the United Presbyterian Church*. Pasadena: Fuller Theological Seminary.

Viladesau, Richard. 2000. *Theology and the Arts: Encountering God through Music, Art and Rhetoric*. Mahwah: Paulist Press.

Wade, Bonnie C. 1999. *Music in India: The Classical Tradition*. New Delhi: Print Perfect. First published 1983.

Wolf, Richard K. 2009. *Theorizing the Local: Music, Practice, and Experience in South Asia and Beyond*. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Wolf, Richard K. 2014. *The Voice in the Drum: Music, Language, and Emotion in Islamicate South Asia*. Chicago: University of Illinois Press. Wright, Nicholas. 2013. Thomas. In *The Case for the Psalms: Why They Are Essential*. New York: HarperOne.

## *Article* **Protestant Congregational Song in the Philippines: Localization through Translation and Hybridization**

**Glenn Stallsmith**

The Divinity School, Duke University, Durham, NC 27708, USA; glenn.stallsmith@duke.edu

**Abstract:** Historically, the language of Protestant congregational song in the Philippines was English, which was tied to that nation's twentieth-century colonial history with the United States. The development of Filipino songs since the 1970s is linked to this legacy, but church musicians have found ways to localize their congregational singing through processes of translation and hybridization. Because translation of hymn texts from English has proven difficult for linguistic reasons, *Papuri*, a music group that produces original Tagalog-language worship music, bypasses these difficulties while relying heavily on American pop music styles. Word for the World is a Pentecostal congregation that embraces English-language songs as a part of their theology of presence, obviating the need for translation by singing in the original language. Day by Day Ministries, the third case study, is a congregation that translates beyond language texts, preparing indigenous Filipino cultural expressions for urban audiences by composing hybridized songs that merge pre-Hispanic and contemporary forms.

**Keywords:** translation; worship music; pentecostalism; Tagalog language; colonialism; hybridization; Protestant mission

#### **1. Introduction: Missionization and Language Use in the Philippines**

The history of Christianity in the Philippines is a story of colonialism. The country's relationships with two primary colonial powers may be abbreviated into a statement such as: "Three hundred years under Spain and fifty years under America". Philippine Christianity is inextricably tied to forms of the faith that were brought from these two governing powers, with Spain controlling the nation from the sixteenth to nineteenth centuries and the United States from the early- to mid-twentieth century. Roman Catholicism was introduced by the first wave of Spanish colonizers and has since been the nation's primary religious expression. The defeat of Spanish forces by the United States in the Western Hemisphere led to the 1898 Treaty of Paris, in which the Philippines were awarded to an American nation that was just beginning its own venture into international imperialism. Squelching a nascent independence movement, U.S. forces in the Philippines subdued a series of nationalist uprisings and made indelible marks in the educational system and in the religious landscape, sending both American teachers and American missionaries at roughly the same time.1 Although many American Protestant and evangelical groups have exerted significant influence in the years since, the Philippines remains majority Roman Catholic, with estimates ranging between 70 and 80 percent of the national population.2 This article focuses on the 10 to 20 percent of Filipinos who consider themselves Protestants or evangelicals, for which ties to American churches remain strong through systems of funding and cultural influence.

These two respective colonial powers had differing approaches to the indigenous languages of the Philippines. Unlike with their colonies in the Americas, Spain chose not to teach Spanish widely as a lingua franca in the Philippines. It remained a language of the elite, with indigenous languages vying for predominance in the church and the marketplace. Tagalog, the language of the people who lived near what is now the capital

**Citation:** Stallsmith, Glenn. 2021. Protestant Congregational Song in the Philippines: Localization through Translation and Hybridization. *Religions* 12: 708. https://doi.org/ 10.3390/rel12090708

Academic Editors: John MacInnis and Jeremy Perigo

Received: 24 June 2021 Accepted: 27 August 2021 Published: 31 August 2021

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2021 by the author. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

city of Manila, rose in prominence due to its geographic location near the centers of colonial power. Even now, the decision to make Tagalog the national language still sparks controversy, with speakers of other regional languages, such as Ilocano and Cebuano, contesting its primacy.3 The American takeover of the Philippines did not replace the use of indigenous Philippine languages in everyday life, but English became the language of education and governance, giving it an outsized role relative to the comparatively short time that it has had to take root.4

Though English has taken over as the language of the legislature, the courts, and the school systems, most Filipinos continue to use indigenous languages in other life settings, including the church. While it is impossible to deny the role that Spanish and English have played in the life of Philippine congregations, the languages of Christian worship have always included the nation's over one hundred indigenous tongues. This is certainly true of the lyrics used in church music. As musicologists David Kendall and David Irving have demonstrated, liturgical songs developed by Catholic clergy over three hundred years included a mixture of indigenous and Spanish elements that combine musical and linguistic features of colonizer and colonized.5 These hymns and service music pieces were set to texts in a variety of languages—Latin, Spanish, and several Philippine languages—and the forms of the songs, while dominated by European instruments and subsequent methods of creating scores, nonetheless contained elements of indigenous music-making. The work of these scholars shows that, despite the major cultural and linguistic influences exercised by Spain and the Roman Catholic Church, the composition and performance of church music in the Philippines has always gone through various processes of localization.6

The focus of this article is more recent and, in many senses, narrower. By looking at the processes of localization in the praise and worship movement over the past fifty years, my scope is thereby limited to Protestant and evangelical churches that have been largely influenced by American missionization and English language songs. After World War II, the Philippines became an independent nation, but cultural ties to the United States remained strong, especially in the worship music used in Protestant and evangelical churches. The three cases in this article each examine a different emphasis of the localization that took place during this post-war period, beginning with the problems of translating early-twentieth-century English-language hymns into Tagalog. The first case shows how the music project known as *Papuri* created original songs in the national language starting in the 1970s to bypass these translation pitfalls, thereby creating a localized genre of worship music that combines natural-sounding lyrics and Western pop music idioms. The second case focuses on the Pentecostal movement in the Philippines, which in the 1980s embraced English-language songs, obviating the need for translation altogether. Looking at the Word for the World congregation, we see how some Christians moved past the language of the lyrics and concentrated instead on a specific hermeneutic of reading Old Testament worship texts. The third case investigates a Filipino church, Day by Day Ministries, that since the 1990s has created hybrid praise and worship compositions by localizing indigenous Philippine music and dance forms. When texts of these songs are translated, they tend to move from indigenous languages to Tagalog, not from English to Tagalog. Day by Day has pioneered a unique method of localizing indigenous music and dance forms for urban audiences, for the purpose of imagining a non-Hispanicized version of Philippine Christianity.

#### **2.** *Papuri***: A Local Solution to the Problems Posed by Translation**

The arrival of American missionaries to the Philippines in the early twentieth century added English to an already-complex language situation. Similar to the teachers who assumed that education must start with the English language as both a subject and a means of instruction, American missionaries introduced hymns that they did not attempt to adapt musically. There is little evidence that serious attempts were made by these missionaries to encourage the creation of indigenous worship music (for some, it was even heretical to suggest that "pagan" music could be used for the purpose of praising God). The primary mode for creating worship songs for Protestant churches of the Philippines was translation—or, more accurately, adaptation.<sup>7</sup> Almost all attempts to localize congregational songs during most of the twentieth century assumed that the tunes would remain the same, meaning that changes needed to come in the lyrical content.

An example of one such adaptation is the hymn "Great Is Thy Faithfulness", composed in English in 1923 by Thomas Chisholm and William Runyan. The most popular Tagalog adaption of this hymn is titled "Tunay Kang Matapat".8 The first stanza and refrain reveal that Filipino translator Max Atienza followed the general meaning of Chisholm's original words:


Since the melodic lines could not be changed, the person adapting the text into Tagalog did not have the freedom to add or subtract notes to create space for different words. Not only does this make word-for-word translation nearly impossible, it also makes creative adaptations such as "Tunay Kang Matapat" difficult to indigenize. Words are made up of syllables, which in turn are built of consonant and vowel sounds. A spoken word, however, makes meaning when those disparate sounds become more than the sum of their respective parts. This requires that the syllables exist in a stable relationship with each other, so that the pronunciation of a given word stresses specific syllables in relation to the others. This stress can happen by lengthening the amount of time a given syllable is sounded relative to the syllables around it. Stress can also be accomplished in the form of loudness, with one syllable in a word being spoken more strongly than others. In real-life speech patterns, stress is usually heard as some combination of loudness and length. An example from English is the difference between the words "missionary" and "machinery". Each of the four syllables in these two words is nearly the same when considered in isolation, but when they are pronounced together as one word, it is the stress given to a specific syllable that distinguishes one from another. For "missionary", the stress is placed on the first syllable; in the case of "machinery", the stress is on the second syllable.

Because the meanings of words in Tagalog and other Philippine languages are dependent on placing the correct stress on a given syllable, this becomes important in the process of adapting song lyrics to an existing hymn tune. In the case of the word *matapat*, the everyday spoken word receives its stress on the ultimate syllable: *ma-ta-PAT*. When setting the Atienza text to the 1923 tune by Runyan, however, there is a stress placed on the first syllable when *ma-* lands on a dotted quarter note in the first line of the hymn. To

a speaker of Tagalog, this makes the word sound like it is being mispronounced. While most Christian worshipers can rationalize this awkward construction by considering the exigencies of hymn text adaptation, it nonetheless sounds like what it is: a foreign tune that has had an adapted local text mapped onto its notes.

This awkwardness was not enough in itself to move Protestants in the Philippines to start a sustained movement of creating new worship songs of Tagalog texts set to original tunes. It would take a decree in 1977 by the national broadcasting regulator—Kapisanan ng mga Brodkaster sa Pilipinas (KBP)—that all Philippine radio stations must air at least one original Filipino composition every hour. In response, the Far East Broadcasting Company (FEBC), a nation-wide network of Protestant radio stations, launched a series of songwriting competitions, with the best submissions broadcast on air. It was soon discovered that these compositions could be compiled and sold on cassette tapes, thus launching the ministry of *Papuri*, which became a record label synonymous with this growing corpus of songs. The musicians who performed on the recordings also formed acts that toured the country in series of live concerts.

*Papuri* still actively creates and distributes new Tagalog language songs, but the height of its popularity came during its first decade of existence. These new songs were a novelty, finding their way into churches and complementing the existing corpus of Western songs. They became fixtures as congregational songs, pieces for choirs, and "special numbers" for small ensembles and soloists. One of the most beloved, even to this day, is "Sapagkat ang Diyos ay Pag-ibig" (Because God Is Love), from the project's first album in 1978:


"*Sapagkat ang Diyos ay Pag-ibig*", originally composed in Tagalog and set to its own melody, is free of any awkward pairings between tune and adapted text. However, though the lyrics are sung in a natural way, with the correct syllables stressed, this song shows ways in which the *Papuri* project focused its localization of Christian songs on the lyrics. The original studio recording of this song, from the album *Papuri #1*, is solidly in the idiom of Western popular music of the 1970s.<sup>9</sup> The song begins with an introduction of strings and piano before a group of men sing the first two lines of the verse in unison. On the third line, women's voices join those of the men. The chorus combines men's and women's voices, with some lines breaking into different harmonies, accompanied by the piano. A viola and a violin play the melody during a two-line bridge, supported by runs on the piano. None of these musical components are outside of standard Western popular music of the period, including a standard major-key chord progression. "*Sapagkat ang Diyos ay Pag-ibig*" shows that, despite the attempt to improve on the translation and adaption work

of previous generations, the work of localization in this era mostly did not extend to the musical sounds of the compositions.<sup>10</sup>

#### **3. Word for the World: Transcending the Local through the Spirit**

While songs by *Papuri* were being developed and adopted by churches throughout the Philippines, a parallel movement was taking place. A new set of songs known as "praise and worship" was coming from the United States, and the churches that adopted these songs had a new set of expectations about the purpose of worship music. Rather than seeing the message of their songs as linguistically coded, the Pentecostals behind this worship movement believed that God was revealing a new biblical theology of worship itself. Whereas the standard Protestant approach to worship music had been to illuminate an understanding of the scriptures, this new movement of praise and worship saw the songs themselves as instrumental in drawing the worshiper to God, without linguistic mediation. Translation of words into a new language was an important tactic for early generations of missionaries, but the practitioners of this emerging praise and worship style did not prioritize translation in the same way. The case in focus here is a Church of God congregation called Word for the World Christian Fellowship, which was begun in the early 1980s by American missionaries in Makati City, a wealthy section of the Manila capital region.<sup>11</sup> To understand why this Pentecostal church embraced and adopted English-language songs more fully than songs in Tagalog, we need to look at the North American origins of this style of worship.

In the late 1940s, Reg Layzell, a Canadian Pentecostal pastor, began to teach his parishioners that the scriptures contained concrete instructions by which Christians could experience God's presence. In what became known as the Latter Rain revival, Layzell and his followers interpreted specific verses from the Old Testament as divine commandments about how one should approach the heavenly Father. Key verses that fed this sacramental perspective of praise and worship music were Psalm 22:3: "But thou art holy, O thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel" (KJV), and Psalm 100:4: "Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name" (KJV). Layzell's reading of these verses was simple: if a Christian praises God, then God will be present (Lim and Ruth 2017, p. 112).

Later, in the 1960s, as the revival spread across Canada and the United States, readings of additional Old Testament texts led these Latter Rain Pentecostals to prescribe musical practices that would manifest God's presence. Scripture passages about various structures for worship—Moses's tabernacle, David's tabernacle, and Solomon's temple—were read as models for how God's people should worship in the twentieth century.<sup>12</sup> The fundamental idea behind these typologies involved a progression from praise to worship, with the worshipers imagining themselves as beginning outside the structure—either the tabernacle or temple—and moving through the interior spaces before arriving at the ultimate place of God's presence: the Holy of Holies. This imagined journey always followed the same pattern: entering the building with praise (see Psalm 100:4), moving to a time of thanksgiving and adoration, and finally finishing in an attitude and posture of "worship".<sup>13</sup> The extent to which this progression moved more quickly or slowly depended on several circumstances, but the achievement of the final goal was never in doubt: if God's people praised and worshiped God, then God's presence would be manifest among them. This Latter Rain teaching took root among Pentecostal networks, both formal and informal, and spread throughout the world, accompanied by the genre of music known as "praise and worship".<sup>14</sup> The label of this style of music was meant to show the biblical theology that undergirded it; if Christians would first praise, then God's presence would be manifested in their gathering, thus allowing true worship to take place. This progression began to drive the choice of songs used in worship services, with faster, more upbeat songs starting the service in the praise mode before moving to slower and more contemplative musical settings.15

This teaching about praise and worship came to the Philippines from the United States in the 1980s. Musicians and producers from Integrity's Hosanna! music label, an organization with ties to the Latter Rain movement, visited Manila to conduct workshops about their biblical theology of worship. These included recording artists such as Lamar Boschman, Ron Kenoly, and Don Moen, and their seminars coincided with extensive growth in Pentecostal and charismatic churches in the Philippines during the 1980s. The architecture-based progression from praise to worship became predominant, first among Pentecostal churches such as Word for the World, and then spreading throughout a variety of Protestant denominations.16 Church musicians were likened to the Israelite tribe of the Levites who attended to worship practices as prescribed in the Old Testament.17 These Filipino musicians learned to categorize songs according to their place in the progression of the worship service—"thanksgiving" songs always opened the service, and "throne room" songs always ended the time of worship that preceded the preaching. Some songs were even labeled according to specific furniture placed between the entrance and the inner courts, with "prayer songs", for instance, set aside for the moments spent at the altar of incense (cf. Exodus 30) on the way to the Holy of Holies.

Unlike the other two cases presented in this article, Word for the World is less a hub of innovation in worship music in the Philippines than an exemplar of praise and worship's influence. It demonstrates, for instance, how a Pentecostal theology of worship led to a different perspective on the translation of song texts from *Papuri*. At Word for the World the primary congregational songs were unadapted and untranslated English hymns and choruses, but this was not because Tagalog-language songs were considered unimportant.18 It was not the "translation" on the lexical level that Filipino Pentecostals were mostly concerned with; rather, they were focused on the communication of theological principles to a direct and personal encounter with God. There are certainly sociolinguistic reasons for the privileging of English songs, e.g., the role of American missionaries in launching the church or the desire to attract worshipers who were comfortable speaking English at work and school, but it would be a mistake to see the use of untranslated songs as merely the preference of the congregation's American founders (Appadurai 1996, p. 90). Word for the World was among a movement of churches trying to bring people into a direct encounter with God, and this involved a complex set of practices that largely transcended cultural forms like the use of specific languages or dialects. In short, songs of "praise" and songs of "worship" had their own potency, if programmed correctly, to bring people into God's presence. This power was primary, and it was more important than the worshipers' ability to comprehend the lyrics of songs.

This subordination of linguistic forms to biblical typology can be understood if one views Pentecostalism itself as a "hard" cultural form. Arjun Appadurai, who coined this formulation, compared hard cultural forms with others he considered "soft". The former "come with a set of links between value, meaning, and embodied practice that are difficult to break and hard to transform".19 Soft cultural forms, by contrast, have looser links between embodiment and meaning; they are more easily translated or adapted. Ethnographers and anthropologists often describe Pentecostal worship services as following nearly identical forms in the various places they are found throughout the world.<sup>20</sup> The theological reasons for this "hardness" are found in Pentecostalism's ways of reading the scriptures. As noted above, many Pentecostals read the Old Testament's descriptions of an ancient tabernacle structure as containing the timeless instructions for worshiping that transcend any contemporary liturgical forms. This is consistent with a reading of the New Testament book of Acts, which views the work of the Holy Spirit as countercultural and transcultural. For instance, the spiritual gift of speaking in tongues, or *glossolalia*, is practiced as the utterance of unknown—and some would say, non-human—languages in the course an ecstatic encounter with the Spirit. The point of such an outburst is not to speak the language of the hearer; rather, it is to transcend normal communication mechanisms altogether and demonstrate a direct working of divine power. In this way, the ecstatic form of speaking in tongues will sound the same in Manila as in Los Angeles, with the speaker's words as

inscrutable in one place as in the other. As Paul Freston puts it, Pentecostalism's forms are beyond translation, becoming a "culture 'against culture.'" (Freston 2013, p. 66).

In this way, the worshipers at Word for the World who sing English songs are being entirely consistent with Pentecostalism's commitment to a noncontextualized view of worship practices. This idea of otherworldly transcendence is found in one of the popular praise and worship songs that the congregation sang in the 1980s: "Be Exalted, O God", composed by New Zealander Brent Chambers:

I will give thanks to Thee

O Lord, among the people.

I will sing praises to Thee

among the nations.

For Thy steadfast love is great,

is great to the heavens

and Thy faithfulness,

thy faithfulness to the clouds.

Be exalted, O God

above the heavens.

Let Thy glory be over all the earth.

The first-person perspective in the song's lyrics indicates that the singer will sing "among the people" and "among the nations". However, the focus is not on speaking *to* the people themselves in the various languages of the nations. Instead, the worshipers are speaking to God, who is described as "above the heavens" and whose glory is "over all the earth". This is very different from the contextual church growth model of missionization that flourished in the US during the middle of the twentieth century. Purveyors of that strategy, the most prominent being Donald McGavran, asserted that the primary barriers to Christian conversion were problems of communication: missionaries who did not understand the language of the people; worship services that contained inappropriate forms of gathering; and congregations that attempted to assemble diverse and, therefore, antagonistic sets of culture groupings in the same service (McGavran 1990). Churches influenced by strategies based on contextualization saw language translation, especially of the scriptures, as of utmost importance in the task of evangelization. Pentecostalism, by contrast, had a different perspective on the relative importance of language itself. The use of the English language with songs in the Philippines, therefore, was not incongruous with the set of practices that accompanied the direct progression of the worshiper from the outer courts to the innermost Holy of Holies. Language use was not always localized in Filipino Pentecostal churches because the Holy Spirit was thought to work apart from one's perception of linguistic codes.

#### **4. Day by Day Ministries: Becoming Local through Hybridization**

For yet another approach regarding translation and worship music in the Philippines, we turn to Day by Day Ministries, a congregation launched in the 1980s. This church was initially forged in an international context, originally made up of Filipino expatriate workers in Saudi Arabia. The founding pastor, Ed Lapiz, was working at a hospital in that country when he began a Wednesday night Bible Study for other Filipinos. This weekly gathering grew into a worshiping congregation, and given the transient nature of overseas work, Lapiz desired to establish a base in the Philippines which could reach the Wednesday night participants once they repatriated to their home country. Day by Day was thus launched in the Philippines in the late 1980s, with Lapiz returning from Saudi Arabia in 1989 to lead the growing church.

Perhaps sparked by the experience of living as foreigners in another nation, Day by Day has sought to worship through inculturated forms that represent an essentialized

version of Philippine Christianity. Early in the 1990s, Day by Day began to develop unique worship songs that went beyond the Tagalog text adaptations of the early Protestants or the original compositions such as those by *Papuri*. They instead sought to create new songs based on a uniquely Filipino style that borrowed from indigenous sounds, movements, and material culture. Much of this innovative work was spearheaded by a troupe of musicians and dancers called KALOOB, which formed in 1994. The task of this organization, which works under the umbrella of Day by Day, is to research traditional music and dance of the Philippines so that it can be represented and, in a sense, translated for congregations and audiences throughout the nation. KALOOB does this through two primary modes: (1) "prayformances" that recreate indigenous practices for concert audiences and (2) new hybridized songs that combine indigenous components of rhythmic elements, melodic motifs, and instrumental ensembles with praise and worship structures.

Both of these modes of creation begin with extensive periods of research among indigenous Filipino communities. Lapiz, who obtained an M.A. and Ph.D. in Philippine Studies from the University of the Philippines, has trained KALOOB participants in ethnographic research methods.21 Group members interview culture bearers from various ethnolinguistic groups to learn traditional forms of singing and dancing.22 Then, in the case of "prayformances", KALOOB seeks to accurately represent these forms in live performances so that other Filipinos may observe and experience folkways that predate the colonizing influences of Spain and the United States. The prayformances are not liturgical, per se, but they are offered to the public in a "spirit of prayer" as a way of connecting contemporary Filipinos with modes of music and dance that are indigenous to these islands.<sup>23</sup> In this sense, the work of translation moves in multiple directions: from the rural to the urban and from the indigenous peoples of the highlands to the lowlanders of the coastlands. The songs and dances presented for these audiences are modified for the stage, but the intent is that the essential forms are performed as closely as possible to those learned from the culture bearers themselves.

The second mode of KALOOB's adaption work comes in the form of newly composed worship songs that draw on these same researched cultural materials. In contrast to the performances designed for audiences, these congregational songs are meant to be sung during worship services at Day by Day. They are, therefore, hybridized in ways that allow singable melodies to accompany musical components from indigenous societies. An example of this style of original composition is "U Javih—Apo Dios".24 The studioproduced recording of the song opens with the interlocking sounds of handheld gongs that are played at traditional celebrations among several indigenous societies in the Cordillera mountains of the northern Philippines. This is followed by a group of women singing, in unison, a pentatonic melody from that region, one of several that make up a genre known as *salidummay*. Their tune is supported by the ongoing pattern of the gongs, to which a drum has been added. The lyrics the women are in one of the Kalinga languages that is indigenous to that region:


After two repetitions of this introductory verse, the flourish of a traditional bamboo flute is heard in the mix. Then a group of men singers enter in unison, supported by the same ongoing rhythmic pattern, this time singing in Tagalog. At this point synthesized instruments are added, supporting what sounds like a shift to a Westernized sound. This change allows the rest of the song to be sung by the entire congregation, and the song takes on a familiar structure of verse, pre-chorus, and chorus. In this case, each of these three sections becomes progressively more singable, with the chorus being the most accessible for lay singers to join:


This pattern repeats again, with different lyrics for a second verse and second prechorus. As the repetition of the chorus fades out for the final time, the original ensemble of women vocalists is heard again, singing the Kalinga-language text accompanied by the gong pattern that opened the recording. This creates an overall A-B-A form, with even the most musically untrained listeners able to discern clear differences between the A and B sections in terms of language, melodic structure, rhythm, and instrumental timbre.

I argue that this recording of "U Javih—Apo Dios", with its Kalinga text and indigenous musical sounds bracketing a standard praise and worship structure, is itself an act of translation. The words of the lyrics themselves are not translated, per se. That is, the praises of God that are sung in Kalinga at the beginning and end, while echoed in the Tagalog section, are not strictly translated. The work of translation instead happens on a different level, in which indigenous cultural artifacts, in the form of specific Kalinga instruments and sonic structures, are presented to lowlander and urban audiences in a performance of essential Filipino-ness. Day by Day's congregations in Manila and other cities in the Philippines are offered this song as a mechanism for participating in a worship form that predates colonial influences from the Western Hemisphere. Without explicitly stating it in the lyrics, the overall sound of the song itself proclaims that Filipinos can worship God as Filipinos, and this includes the aspects of cultural heritage that preceded the arrival of the so-called Christianized songs and prayers of the multiple waves of foreign missionaries. This claim, more than the Kalinga and Tagalog lyrics, is what is being "translated" for the congregation.

The performances (and prayformances) of KALOOB are local attempts to subvert the hybridized church songs that have been the centuries-old products of colonialization. Songs such as "U Javih—Apo Dios", with their mixture of highland and lowland musical elements, are designed to allow people from across the Philippines to experience a decolonialized way of worshiping. For much of the lowland Philippines, indigenous cultures were merged with those of the colonial powers in a process that musicologists have called "Hispanicization".<sup>27</sup> This hybridization, however, often felt like a complete replacement of the original music styles, and nationalist movements in the Philippines since the nineteenth century have tapped into highland and Muslim indigenous music forms as a way of reestablishing an essential Filipino sound.<sup>28</sup> The worship songs of Day by Day and KALOOB can be seen as continued attempts to create hybridized forms that assert a precolonial Filipino essence, but these worship songs are composed with the congregation in mind. They are an accessible way for evangelical Christians to see themselves as part of an ancient culture. The translation of texts, while present in some pieces of Day by Day's corpus, is subordinated to a re-presentation of traditional music forms.

This corpus of hybridized songs is generally acknowledged as a worthwhile innovation by Filipino Protestant Christians, with some of Day by Day's songs being sung in other congregations. Not all Filipinos are as concerned about cultural renewal or revitalization as are Lapiz, KALOOB, and Day by Day, but most recognize these compositions as at least an interesting curiosity. The main challenge facing the widespread adoption of this corpus is, of course, its hybrid nature. Indigenous Filipino Christians, in a sense, do not need these reimagined versions of their own traditional music practices. Urban Filipinos, on the other hand, are often satisfied by the Tagalog and English songs available in their churches and across multiple media outlets. For Pentecostals especially, the desire is for worship expressions that transcend local, or any, cultural expressions.

#### **5. Conclusions**

These three cases provide a fuller understanding of the scope of translation in congregational song in Christian worship. In the case of the songs composed by *Papuri*, the exigencies of fitting multisyllabic Filipino words into a given melody show that translation from European languages is nearly impossible. The new *Papuri* compositions that responds to this difficulty, even if the music mimics a Western idiom, provide an opportunity to communicate more clearly than the mispronounced words of translated hymns. For Pentecostal Filipinos who worship in congregations such as Word for the World, the object of translation is not the content of words but rather the Spirit-guided forms of worship that transcend specific cultural expressions. Nor is the translation of specific texts the focus of the hybridizations performed by worshipers at Day by Day Ministries. Unlike for most Pentecostals, local cultural forms are of great importance in this congregation, and the essence of indigenous songs and dances are portrayed in music and movement, with the work of translation coming in the reframing and re-presentation of precolonial artistic forms.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Institutional Review Board Statement:** Not applicable.

**Informed Consent Statement:** Informed consent was obtained from all subjects involved in the study.

**Data Availability Statement:** Not applicable.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The author declares no conflict of interest.

#### **Notes**


to past practice, some innovative—and make them locally meaningful and useful in the construction of Christian beliefs, theology, practice, and identity" (Ingalls et al. 2018).


liturgical settings and teaching generations of students to take up similar projects through the Asian Institute of Liturgy and Music (Santos 1998, pp. 875–76).

#### **References**

Appadurai, Arjun. 1996. *Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization*. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.


Irving, D. R. M. 2010. *Colonial Counterpoint: Music in Early Modern Manila*. New York: Oxford University Press.

Kendall, David Joseph. 2010. Spanish Colonial Liturgical Music in the Philippines: Inventing a Tradition. Ph.D. dissertation, University of California-Riverside, Riverside, CA, USA.

Lim, Swee-Hong, and Lester Ruth. 2017. *Lovin' on Jesus: A Concise History of Contemporary Worship*. Nashville: Abingdon Press.

Luhrmann, Tanya M. 2020. *How God Becomes Real: Kindling the Presence of Invisible Others*. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Martin, Isabel Pefianco. 2008. Colonial Education and the Shaping of Philippines Literature in English. In *Philippine English: Linguistic and Literary Perspectives*. Edited by Ma. Lourdes S. Bautista and Kingsley Bolton. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, pp. 245–59.

McGavran, Donald A. 1990. *Understanding Church Growth*, 3rd ed. Grand Rapids: W.B. Eerdmans.


## *Article* **The Liturgical Usage of Translated Gregorian Chant in the Korean Catholic Church**

**Eun Young Cho 1, Hayoung Wong <sup>2</sup> and Zong Woo Geem 3,\***


**Abstract:** For centuries, Gregorian chant has served as a monophonic song written for the religious services of the Roman Catholic Church, but Korean Catholics first encountered this chant in the early nineteenth century. Korean Catholics ultimately became more attracted to the Korean translations of these chants, as opposed to the original Latin versions. This article introduces some issues related to the language translation of Gregorian chant, especially for chants performed in Holy Week. The issues include discrepancies in the number of syllables, shifts in melismatic emphasis, difficult diction in vocalization, briefer singing parts because of space limitations, challenging melodic lines, and translation losses from neumes to modern notes.

**Keywords:** Gregorian chant; Korean translation; sacred music; liturgy; Catholic church

**Citation:** Cho, Eun Young, Hayoung Wong, and Zong Woo Geem. 2021. The Liturgical Usage of Translated Gregorian Chant in the Korean Catholic Church. *Religions* 12: 1033. https://doi.org/10.3390/rel12121033

Academic Editors: John MacInnis and Jeremy Perigo

Received: 25 September 2021 Accepted: 13 November 2021 Published: 23 November 2021

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2021 by the authors. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

#### **1. An Introduction to Gregorian Chant and the Asian Christian Context**

Among devout Catholic Christians and the members of the Catholic hierarchy, Gregorian chant undoubtedly holds a special place in the liturgical tradition. In the medieval period, five types of Latin language liturgical music dominated church life (Ambrosian, Byzantine, Gallican, Gregorian, Mozarabic), but the uniqueness of Gregorian chant guaranteed the popularity of this type of chant in the Latin Rite (Roman Catholicism's demographically most dominant part) of the Roman Catholic Church. This uniqueness comes from the fact that Gregorian chant exists as simple melodies with lyrics in Latin. The chant normally does not involve instruments because of the spiritually ideal notion of a humble and unadorned human voice giving praise to God. Lyrics in Gregorian chant primarily rest upon the literal and implied content of the Bible. The earliest surviving Gregorian chants date back to the ninth century. Although scholars openly wonder about the chants' links with Pope Gregory the Great (r. 590–604), this origin story has persisted because of the strong power of traditional narratives in Catholicism.

In this article, we intend to tackle certain issues that have arisen regarding the process of localizing Gregorian chant according to the Korean context. We recognize the prominence of scholarly literature that describes Gregorian chant translation processes as processes of indigenization (i.e., efforts in giving a local culture a vast degree of control in adapting Gregorian chant according to the specific circumstances of that culture). This recognition aside, we believe that efforts to translate Gregorian chant into Asian languages seem best characterized as efforts of localization because the Catholic Church has clear standards in protecting the integrity of Gregorian chant, regardless of where the adaptation processes occur. This process of localization not only involves the translation of the words of Gregorian chant into Korean but also entails attempts to reconcile the musical structures of Gregorian chant and the structures of Korean music. The Gregorian chant interpretations of our study will come from the Masses of Holy Week. While research on this topic remains somewhat limited, the conclusions that we have tentatively uncovered nonetheless offer some commentary on the current state and future trends of Gregorian chant translation

in South Korea. Protestants outnumber Catholics in South Korea, but as we shall soon see, quite a few Protestants have acknowledged the uniquely Catholic emphasis on things sacred and divine. In a sense, a review of issues relating to the Korean Catholic Church's use of translated Gregorian chant offers a wider glimpse into the ways through which Asians have attempted to integrate the Latin liturgy into daily spiritual life. The Catholic Church's issues in accommodating Gregorian chant for Korean audiences resemble similar challenges among other Asian cultures. With these challenges in mind, we will also briefly review the efforts of Catholic missionaries in promoting Latin language translation and the use of translated chants in places such as Japan, China, and other Asian states.

In 1884, Protestant missionary Robert Samuel Maclay (1824–1907) visited Seoul and encouraged the growth of the Methodist episcopate there. While in Korea, he received the monarch's permission for erecting a hospital and a school (Gospel in All Lands 1896). With this assurance, the Protestant church in Korea could more easily thrive. These missionary successes also allowed for the spread of translated hymns that included "Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me (만세반석 열리니)", as shown in Figure 1 below. Although Augustus Toplady wrote verse 1 of the hymn in 1776, the Korean translator remains unknown.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 만세반석 열리니 Let me hide my-self in Thee 내가 들어갑니다 Let the water and the blood, 창에 허리 상하여 From Thy wounded side which flowed, 물과 피를 흘린 것 Be of sin the double cure, 내게 효험 되어서 Cleanse me from its guilt and power. 정결하게 하소서

**Figure 1.** Korean score of "Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me" (The Hymn Society of Korea 1983). The Korean lyrics in the score mean, "When the rock of ages is opened, I enter the cleft".

For theological reflection, nineteenth-century Korean Protestants may have found inspiration from the lyrics of this hymn, a hymn that might seem like a layperson's version of the "Ave Verum Corpus" composed by W. A. Mozart (1756–1791) or William Byrd (1543–1623). The hymn also resembles a non-lyric eventide chime melody of "Abide with Me (때 저물어 날 이미 어두니)", which can serve as the melody for a church bell (Ingalls et al. 2018). In the narrative of Korea's encounter with Protestantism, a Protestant feeling of spiritual attraction for hymns essentially Catholic and Latin in origin has resulted in a spectrum of attitudes ranging from sentiments of cross-denominational fraternity (ecumenism, in other words) to desires to convert to Roman Catholicism. Although the early Protestant Christian missionaries in Korea included the famously anti-Catholic Henry G. Appenzeller (1858–1902), other missionaries felt more receptive to the contributions of Roman Catholics. Scholar Richard Rutt has characterized many of Korea's earliest rank-and-file white Protestant missionaries as deeply impressed with the sacrifices of the Catholic martyrs. These missionaries also deemphasized the distinctions between the various branches of Christianity, perhaps because Korea's first white Christian missionaries understood the situation of Korea's tiny numbers of Christian converts relative to the far greater numbers of passionate Confucians or Buddhists who might have wanted to

discourage Christianity's spread (Rutt 1983). In the fragility of their early years in Korea, Christians of all denominations did not wish to tear themselves apart through pointless theological squabbles. In the modern age, Gregorian chant and the ancient hymns of the Catholic Church have deeply resonated with some Protestants, for whom respect for the Catholic Church can blossom into a decision to become Catholic. Korean academics such as professor Kim Jongseo (김종서, Seoul National University department of religion) have called attention to high reputation of the Korean Catholic Church as a vessel for charity, social justice, and dialogue between atheists and people of faith (Kim 2010). Anecdotal evidence appears to support the notion of Protestants drawn to the Korean Catholic Church's nearly irreproachable reputation and reverence for the world of divinely sacred matters. In 2021, the Society of Foreign Missions of Paris (Société des Missions étrangères de Paris, or MEP for short) highlighted the story of Korean pianist Cathy Cheongmi Park, who felt distinctly attracted to the solemnity of Gregorian chant and the Catholic mass (Société des Missions étrangères de Paris 2021).

In contrast to Protestant Christianity that initially came to Korea through monarchical approval, Catholic Christianity came to Korea through a rather different route (Ruiz-de-Medina 1991). As early as the 1590s, through Jesuit missionary outreach efforts, there existed communities of Korean Catholic Christians exiled in Japan as a result of Hideyoshi's invasion of Korea (1592–1598). Contemporary Jesuit chronicles describe a Korean-born martyr forced to take the Japanese name of Takeya Sôzaburô Cosme (d. 1619). Shortly before his execution at the hands of the persecuting Japanese authorities, Cosme apparently sang the Latin devotional "Laudate Dominum omnes gentes (Praise the Lord, All Ye Gentiles)" in what a Jesuit observer characterized as the blissful anticipation of a heavenly reward (Ruiz-de-Medina 1991; The Golden Manual 1850). Several decades later, Korean envoys dispatched to China purchased a book entitled *Cheonjusilui* (天主實義; *The True Meaning of the Lord of Heaven*) written in 1603 at Beijing by the Italian Jesuit priest Matteo Ricci (Meynard et al. 2016). The book, which claimed the possibility of reconciling Confucianism and Christianity, became a popular book alongside other Confucian and Buddhist scriptures for eighteenth-century Korean scholars.

At the dawn of Catholicism's formal entrance into Korea, Korean scholars typically viewed the religion as a Western and therefore foreign belief system called Seohak (西學). Despite this perception, the Korean government led by King Jeongjo (r. 1776–1800) did not explicitly persecute followers of Christianity. The monarch confidently expected his countrymen to reject a Christian faith that supposedly contravened the rational sensibility expected of religions in Korea (Jeongjo of Joseon 1978). In the spirit of the king's attitudes, the authorities did not initially adopt draconian persecution measures even after the baptized Korean scholar Lee Seunghoon became the first recorded convert to successfully return to Korea in 1784. In 1785, for example, some policemen incorrectly suspected some Korean Christian scholars of gambling, but the authorities only gave a minor punishment (Yi 1971).

In the meantime, without ordained clergy in Korea, the earliest Catholics in Korea began to baptize themselves until the Catholic hierarchy had to intervene by saying that such baptisms could not validly occur without the presence of a priest. Tensions between Confucianism and Christianity unfortunately escalated in 1790, when Alexander de Gouvea, a prominent ecclesiastic based in China, disallowed the Confucian ancestor commemoration ceremony among Asian Christians (Dallet 1874). This event precipitated a major government initiative (the Sinhae persecution) against Korean Catholics in 1791. King Jeongjo's successor Sunjo (r. 1800–1834) strictly prohibited Catholic Christianity on the grounds of the religion's supposed opposition to traditional ethics. This prohibition served as the basis for the Sinyu persecution of 1801, and this persecution led to many martyrdoms, including the martyrdom of a Chinese priest, Zhou Wenmo (1752–1801) (Choi 2006).

Pope Leo XII (r. 1823–1829) later assigned Korean missionary work to the Society of Foreign Missions of Paris (MEP). In 1831, Pope Gregory XVI (r. 1831–1846) appointed Barthélemy Bruguière as the first apostolic vicar of the Korean archdiocese (The Society

for the Propagation of the Faith 1832). Unfortunately for the newly appointed ecclesiastic, he died in 1835 and never reached Korea. Fortunately for the Korean mission, three MEP priests found themselves dispatched to Korea shortly after Father Bruguière's untimely passing. These priests had the names of Jacques Honoré Chastan (1803–1839), Laurent Joseph Marie Imbert (1797–1839), and Pierre Philibert Maubant (1803–1839). Among other intentions, these priests came to Korea with the hope of recruiting Korean seminarians who could study in Macao. Although the missionary trio successfully entered the Korean peninsula, the Gihae persecution of 1839 ended both the hopes and lives of these fathers (The Research Foundation of Korean Church History 2017). In 1843, as a poignant dedication to his colleagues who died in Korea, Charles-François Gounod (1818–1893), a famous French musician and MEP chapel master, composed "À la Reine des apôtres (To the Queen of the Apostles)", a piece later retitled as "Chant pour le départ des Missionnaires du Séminaire des Missions étrangères (Song for the departure of the Missionaries from the Seminary of Foreign Missions)" (Bibliothèque nationale de France 2021). On 17 August 1845, Andrew Kim Taegon (1821–1846), an alumnus of the Macao seminary, became the first ordained Korean priest active in Korea, but his ministry tragically ended in his death sentence at the hands of the authorities (Kim 1984). In 1886, the situation of Catholics finally began to improve with a "Treaty of Friendship, Commerce, and Navigation" between the Joseon Dynasty (the old name of Korea) and France. This treaty allowed for the dynasty's official (if only implicit) recognition of Catholic Christianity (Korean Mission to the Conference on Limitation of Armament 1922). About a decade later, in 1895, the Joseon state also expressed sentiments of regret regarding the anti-Catholic Byeongin persecution of 1866.

With respect to the evolution of Catholic music in Korea, Choe Yang-Eop (1821– 1861), the second ordained Korean priest, wanted to accommodate the illiteracy of Korean Catholics who often lacked access to catechisms, bibles, and hymnals. Around 1850, he began to write religious lyrics named "Cheonjugasa (天主歌辭)". Since Cheonjugasa listeners usually came from the poorest and most illiterate people, the lyrics had to remain simple so that villagers could easily pass on these lyrics to later generations (Han 2017). The simplicity of the Cheonjugasa proved attractive to lowborn Korean Catholic converts who sometimes inserted their own simple melodies into the lyrics. Although the musical scores of these lyrics have not often survived, the syncretism (mixing) of Korean religions exists as a fact widely acknowledged by anthropologists, so Buddhist folk songs played a role in the creation of these lyrics. (In this particular case and analogous cases, one can argue that Korea's religious syncretism indirectly foreshadowed the Second Vatican Council's initiatives in attempting to reconcile traditional ancient church practices with the practices of local cultures.) As they arranged the Cheonjugasa, Korean converts likely borrowed musical conventions found in preexisting Buddhist melodies. For Korean Catholics, the Cheonjugasa composition processes therefore had some origins in the beompae (범패), or sung lyrics meant to accompany Buddhist dances. Short and simple solo pieces known as hutsori (훗소리) also inspired the Cheonjugasa arrangements (Kwak 2000). In one thematic example known as the "Sahyangga (사향가)" of Figure 2, the lyrics describe a heavenly home that would greet persecution victims martyred by the authorities.

After the treaty of amity between Korea and France in 1886, the Korean Peninsula's slow but clear movement towards religious freedom fueled the publication of various Cheonjugasa pieces. According to one Catholic newspaper, themes of sacred lyrics, patriotism, the encouragement of learning, lamentation, and even drinking prohibitions existed within the 41 Cheonjugasa pieces in circulation through the year 1910.

In 1887, the MEP established a seminary in Yongsan, Seoul. At the seminary, priest professors taught liturgy and Gregorian chant (Kim 1993). In 1892, signs of an even more vibrant Korean musical culture would emerge with the building of Korea's first Westernstyle church in the Yakhyeon area. The church's architecture reflected both Romanesque and Gothic influences. A contemporary document describes a scene of individuals singing the Nicene Creed during the consecration of the church.

**Figure 2.** Religious lyric "Sahyangga" (The Academy of Korean Studies 2021).

In August 1924, the Seoul Diocese published the Joseoneoseongga (조선어성가), the first official hymnal for Korean Catholics. The hymnal provided a five-line staff. Of the compilation's 68 pieces, 20 songs (from *Cantiques de la Jeunesse*) had French origins because of the MEP's then-dominant influences in the Seoul and Daegu dioceses. By 1938, the St. Benedictine Abbey of Wonsan diocese (located in present-day North Korea) would produce another hymnal, the Catholic Seonggajip (가톨릭 성가집). Given the prominence of the monastic order's German roots, most songs in this book came from Germany. The hymnal also contains Korean translations of German masses composed by Franz Joseph Haydn's younger brother Johann Michael Haydn (1737–1806) and Franz Schubert (1797–1828). In the composition of their Mass works, Haydn and Schubert had used German texts. The Korean versions of these Mass works therefore drew from German texts instead of Latin ones.

A significant change in Korea's Catholic musical culture came with the help of Pope Paul VI, who promulgated *Sacrosanctum Concilium* (*The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy*) on 4 December 1963 (Abbott and Gallagher 1966). The architects of this document intended to reform traditional liturgical texts and rituals in ways more reflective of local cultures. Although Section 36 of the document focused on the need to retain use of the Latin language in the sacred liturgy, there also existed a recognition of the practicality of presenting that sacred liturgy in the vernacular (viz., the common language utilized by the people in local environments). According to the authors of *Sacrosanctum Concilium*, that presentation would slowly spread from the readings to prayers and chants. This critical provision acknowledged a long-standing practice done before *Sacrosanctum Concilium*, namely, the usage of vernacular translations (and not the original Latin versions) as the foundations of translated chants. Section 118 also encouraged the need for people to participate in liturgical songs (*cantus popularis religiosus*), thereby formalizing the sacred liturgy's transition from a ceremony dominated by the priest to a ceremony that encouraged more participation among the laity. The promulgation of *Sacrosanctum Concilium* coincided with the proliferation of popular religious chants in the Korean liturgy, even

though some controversy existed over the ambiguity of the Latin term *popularis* as having a congregational or secular interpretation.

While *Sacrosanctum Concilium* reflected a universal church growing increasingly receptive to moving away from the traditionalism of Latin Masses, Section 116 of the document specifically noted the church's recognition of the intimate relationship between Gregorian chant and the Roman liturgy. Devout Catholics who attend Mass generally acknowledge Gregorian chant's preeminence and historical roots, roots that arguably date back to the medieval period.

In the Korean church, the language barrier naturally required Korean translations of chants. Historical records appear to credit Father Maubant (the same MEP missionary sent to Korea after the death of the Korean diocese's first apostolic vicar) with the introduction of Gregorian chant into Korea (Kim 2013). Awkward tunes and Latin texts of Gregorian chant (to say nothing of ongoing anti-Catholic persecutions) initially hindered the appeal of Gregorian chant among local Korean Catholics. Over time, Korean monasteries ultimately became the centers of Gregorian chant use, even though pastoral liturgies (viz., the most common types of Masses in which laypersons have many spoken responses) did not frequently use liturgical chanting. In the following section, we will introduce some issues related to Gregorian chant translation in the Korean Catholic liturgy, with a special focus on the Paschal Triduum (Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday in Holy Week).

#### **2. Official Instructions on the Church's Liturgical Music**

Because the church acknowledges Gregorian chant as especially appropriate for the Roman liturgy, we would like to first review the church's official instruction on music in the liturgy. On 5 March 1967, the Second Vatican Council published *Musicam sacram* (MS), a document of instruction on sacred music for Roman Catholic liturgy (Musicam sacram 1967). This proclamation deals with various genres of sacred music, including Gregorian chant (No. 4).

MS specifically provides guidelines for individuals who have roles in the sung liturgy and the times in which those vocalists ought to begin training for these roles. In the sung versions of a liturgical service, individuals with demonstrable talent in singing should enjoy priority in the singing roles. This situation proves especially relevant in liturgies that require professional settings and/or difficult performances (No. 8). Performers should ideally begin their training as early as possible in grammar school (No. 18). MS also mentions the roles of the cantor and musical instruments. Situations without choirs ought to necessitate trained vocalists, and trained individual singers should still have a role to play even in the presence of church choirs (No. 21). In liturgies, instrumental music can serve to help trained vocalists, but this accompaniment should not distract from one's ability to internalize the meanings of these words (No. 64).

MS also discusses the singing of the ancient daily church prayers known as the Divine Office. Other names for the Divine Office include the Canonical Hours, Liturgical Hours, or Liturgy of the Hours. In addressing the needs of ordained individuals or individuals attending institutions specifically for the purposes of ordination, the architects of MS urge these individuals to sing the Liturgy of the Hours. In such a way, these individuals may more completely invest themselves in the public prayers of the Holy Mother Church (No. 40). While ordained individuals ought to sing the Liturgy of the Hours in Latin, the church allows for other languages among not-yet-ordained individuals who sing this set of prayers (No. 41).

In terms of general instructions, the church acknowledges the various kinds of singing that can happen in liturgical settings. There clearly exists a hierarchical order of priorities in liturgical settings. In a liturgy, the most important singing part involves either the priest singing (with everyone else replying) or the priest and his congregation singing together. Singing parts reserved for the congregation alone or for the choir alone have a clear but secondary priority (No. 7). MS introduces exhortations for everyone to actively sing in a liturgical setting. Sung words ought to include acclamations, responses to priests, responses

to prayers, psalms, hymns, and refrains, among other things. While the choir may very well have more dedicated singing talent than the congregation as a whole, the church discourages situations in which the choir alone sings (No. 16). Sundays and days dedicated to feasts and saints should ideally have Eucharistic liturgies with extensive singing parts (No. 27). In another hierarchy of sung parts of the Mass, the church prioritizes words such as the priest's greeting, the congregation's reply, Gospel proclamations, prayers relating to the Lord's supper, and the Lord's prayer, among other prayers (No. 29).

In terms of sung liturgical settings, MS frequently refers to other church documents to clarify the need to preserve the Latin language in Latin liturgical celebrations. This preservation effort notwithstanding, local church-governing institutions can use the vernacular in situations for which the use of common languages can produce abundant spiritual fruit (more converts to Catholic Christianity, for instance) (No. 47). The church freely acknowledges the potential for Latin music texts as features of both Latin Masses and common language Masses (No. 51). In the meantime, the ideal arrangement for the Lord's Prayer involves the congregation singing the prayer with the celebrant. Sung Latin versions of the Lord's Prayer should draw from established and time-honored melodies. By way of contrast, in vernacular renditions of the Lord's prayer, the church allows local church-governing institutions to make independent determinations on melodies (No. 35).

As composers arrange melodies for common language translations, these individuals should reconcile the needs of musical consonance (spiritually understood as the need for music to sound both edifying and pleasing) and faithfulness to the spirit of the original Latin (No. 54). Local church governing institutions may freely determine the appropriateness of common language translations, even if those translations may not entirely reflect the spirit of texts deeply respected by the church as a whole (No. 55). More recent attempts at melodies for common language texts may provisionally enter liturgical celebrations, but people should prayerfully continue to refine these melodies (No. 60). In specific lands that have particularly unique musical cultures (Africa, for instance), the task for translating sacred music into liturgically appropriate songs should only fall upon specific kinds of individuals. These individuals should possess deep skills in both the Holy Mother Church's profoundly rich musical traditions as well as the common traditions of those specific lands (No. 61).

In liturgical celebrations sung in Latin, Gregorian chant should have a preeminent role, with other roles dependent on the circumstances (No. 50). The church also promotes the preservation of time-honored sacred music by placing this music at the center of musical instruction in seminaries and other Catholic institutions of learning. Sacred music instruction firmly depends on the study and application of Gregorian chant. In these provisions, the church emphasizes the intimate connections between Gregorian chant and the notions of sacred music (No. 52).

#### **3. A Survey History of Translations of Gregorian Chant into Other Asian Languages**

The landmark decisions of the Second Vatican Council had formalized the church's desire to allow common languages (and not just Latin) to have a greater role in liturgical celebrations. That formalization aside, localization efforts (attempts at presenting the faith in ways more relatable to the backgrounds of local communities) had happened for centuries before that council. Informal localization efforts arguably had roots in the scriptures, since Paul believed in accommodating another person's background for the sake of evangelization (cf. 1 Corinthians 9:22). In lieu of an exhaustive treatment that would go well beyond the limits of this study, we will turn to a selection of these accommodation and localization efforts in Asia.

Western Catholic missionaries in Asia had long tried to promote the use of the Latin language, since Gregorian chants and the Mass originally came in the Latin language. In 1582, some of the most well-educated Japanese students from Japanese seminaries traveled to Europe and confidently played pieces of Western music there (Minagawa 2013). In 1619, the above-mentioned Korean martyr Takeya Sôzaburô Cosme decided to

sing a Latin devotional before his martyrdom in Japan. Among the Chinese, Luo Wenzao (c. 1615–1691) not only had some proficiency in Latin, but also entered the episcopate as a bishop (Román 2001).

On the other hand, the Jesuits and other Catholics in Asia did not have overwhelming success in turning East Asian converts into fluent Latin speakers who could confidently sing Gregorian chant. Vast differences exist between Latin and the East Asian languages of Chinese, Japanese, and Korean. These differences would have made Latin singing difficult for most (if not all) Catholic Christians living in these nations and other areas of Asia. Although the Portuguese set up a seminary for Indonesian boys to sing Gregorian chant in Indonesia in 1536, and although the Japanese translation (1553) of the Catechism had several Japanese vocabulary words for musical ideas, it seems fair to say that a significant number of converts in sixteenth-century Asia unreflectively memorized Gregorian chants in Latin (Bramantyo 2018). In more recent centuries, this reality has remained true. As scholar Lalitha Thomas contends, elderly Indian Catholics of the modern era fondly recall singing Latin chants in the Mass, even though the ancestors of these individuals likely had almost no idea about the deeper themes of those songs (Thomas 2002). From the 1540s to their suppression in 1773, Jesuits wrote about disappointing levels of Latin proficiency observed among East Asian converts (Boxer 1967; Brockey 2007). These situations more or less convinced the Jesuits to present religious instruction manuals in local Asian languages that new converts could more easily understand.

In the presentation of Gregorian chant in Asian contexts, the French-born and later naturalized Chinese priest Frédéric-Vincent Lebbe (1877–1940) surely ranks as one of the more famous supporters of that initiative. Like the Korean language, the Chinese language also tends to have fewer characters that represent longer strings of words in European languages, particularly Latin. Father Lebbe could have theoretically preserved the original musical notation of the Gregorian chant, but then the Chinese translation would have not communicated the sense of the original Latin text. He ultimately tried to reconcile the original Gregorian melodies with Chinese interpretations of liturgical music. This reconciliation primarily entailed the deletion of musical notes that he regarded as less critical to understanding the sense of the original Latin pieces. In this manner, the more laconic Chinese translations could essentially fit inside the more abbreviated musical notation. From the liturgical standpoint, the justification of these editorial decisions rests in the fact that Lebbe wanted Chinese Catholics to understand the spiritual importance of the Gregorian chant's words. Even if the Chinese translation sacrificed (if only slightly) the musical integrity of the Latin original, that sacrifice seemed less important in the hierarchy of Lebbe's priorities (Ng 2007).

In other parts of Asia, the Second Vatican Council accelerated already existing trends in the localization of Gregorian chant. For Indians of Tamil Catholic Christian backgrounds, Gregorian melodies sung in the Tamil language had begun to supersede Tamil transliterations of Latin songs sometime around the 1950s. In the council's immediate aftermath, liturgical songs reflected a middle ground between a totally Gregorian culture and a totally Indian culture, but that state of affairs did not last for long. By the 1970s, the demands of the laity ultimately led to a total retreat from Gregorian melodies in favor of indigenous classical Indian melodies, specifically Carnatic music (Thomas 2002). In more recent times, however, the Catholic Church has renewed its fascination with Latin as a sacred language critical to the reconciliation of Christian and Greco-Roman ideas. Pope Benedict XVI reminded audiences of Latin's significance in his establishment of the Pontifical Academy for Latin in 2012 (Latina Langua 2012). In some areas of the world, this renewed fascination has arguably mitigated a full retreat from Latin in the use of Gregorian chant. The Catholic Bishops' Conference of Japan's mission statement deeply emphasizes not only the cultural traditions of Japan but also the spirit of the original Latin liturgical texts that include Gregorian chant (Catholic Bishops' Conference of Japan 2021).

#### **4. Issues Related to Gregorian Chant Translated into Korean**

Up until this point, we have reviewed the Korean history of the Roman Catholic Church, the church's music, the official instruction on music from the Vatican, and efforts to translate Gregorian chant into multiple Asian languages. As mentioned earlier, the Catholic Church acknowledges the preeminent role of Gregorian chant in the liturgy by saying that the performance of Gregorian chant preserves the heritage of sacred music. On the other hand, Gregorian chant poses difficulties for performances in pastoral liturgical settings. As the following sections will show, even the vernacular version of the chant has various issues. Korean Gregorian chant exists as the musical interpretation of the original Latin Gregorian chant. Sometimes, this process of musical interpretation has resulted in a translation that carries the influences of original Catholic source texts of Gregorian chants and the influences of traditional Korean folk songs.

#### *4.1. A Good Example of Translation*

On the evening of Holy Thursday (the last Thursday prior to Easter Sunday), the Church follows a series of preparations intended to encourage devotion and revere the Lord. After the Mass in which people remember the Last Supper of Jesus Christ, there follows an intricate ceremony that involves, among other things, incense and the Blessed Sacrament (the body of Christ). This ceremony ends with the transfer of the Blessed Sacrament to an Altar of Repose (Baldeschi 1895). In this moving procession, the congregation sings the Gregorian chant named "Pange Lingua" ("Sing, my tongue") (Caswall 1849).

As seen in Figure 3, the number of syllables in Latin successfully matches the number of syllables found in the Korean translation. The first eight syllables in the Latin "Pan-ge lin-gua glo-ri-o-si" match with the eight syllables of the Korean "입*-*을 열*-*어 찬*-*양*-*하*-*세". The next seven syllables in the Latin "Cor-po-ris mys-te-ri-um" match with the seven syllables of the Korean "영*-*광*-*의 성*-*체*-*신*-*비". Although a syllable such as "gua" has two notes, we characterize the syllable as having only one singing structure (neume) named Clivis, a word that indicates a slope (Town 1844).

(a)

On the other hand, the translated Korean text does not match word for word with the original text because "입을*"* means the objective case for the word "mouth". The characters "열어" mean open. The characters "찬양하세" refer to the verb form of the word "praise". The characters "영광의" signify the adjective form of the word "glorious", and the four

characters of "성체신비" signify the Eucharistic mystery. These translation issues aside, the Korean text mostly preserves the meaning of the Latin original. In this sense, the authors of the Korean text clearly intended to respect the precedence traditionally shown to Gregorian chant, the chant defined as the church's official liturgical hymn. As already mentioned, this precedence has its roots in documents such as *The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy* and *Musicam sacram*.

#### *4.2. Discrepancies in the Number of Syllables*

For the final Sunday before Easter, the church calendar has Palm Sunday, which commemorates the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Upon the return of the procession and after the return of the priest, there follows the singing of a chant named "Ingrediente Domino (As the Lord entered)" (The Office of Holy Week 1882). This chant has a series of verses and responses collectively known as the responsory. Here, in terms of the syllable count, a large discrepancy exists between the original Latin and Korean scores.

As seen in Figure 4, the eight syllables for "In-gre-di-en-te Do-mi-no" differs from the thirteen syllables in the Korean translation ("주-님-이 거-룩-한 도-성 예-루-살-렘-에", which means "Lord to the holy city of Jerusalem"). This difference results in a different melodic line. In the broadest sense, this issue does not markedly differ from the issues faced by Father Lebbe in his attempts to arrange the more laconic and abbreviated Chinese translations into the original Gregorian melodies.

(b)

**Figure 4.** Comparison between the original Latin (**a**) and Korean (**b**) scores of "Ingrediente Domino" (A Database of Gregorian Scores 2021; Catholic Conference of Korea 2021).

#### *4.3. Shifts in Melismatic Emphasis*

Linguists typically categorize the Latin language as an inflectional language (or fusional language) containing words that vary according to gender, number, case, person, and tense. By way of contrast, linguists typically categorize the Korean language as an agglutinative language that mainly uses postpositional particles or affixes attached to word roots. The Korean language also has the order of Object + Verb in sentence structure, and this structure differs from the Verb + Object orders of most European languages. From the

grammatical and ideal standpoints, Latin exists outside these constraints because one has a degree of freedom in arranging Latin words in sentences.

The abovementioned linguistic difference between Latin and Korean causes the shift of melismatic emphasis. As seen in Figure 4, while the original Latin chant places a melisma for "Domino" and "civitatem (city)", the Korean translated chant places a melisma for "예 루살렘 (Jerusalem)" and "들어오실 때 (when He enters)".

#### *4.4. Difficult Diction in Vocalization*

In 1443, King Sejong created the Korean alphabet (hangul) (Sejong Sillok: Veritable Records of King Sejong 1443). Hangul has 14 consonants and 10 vowels for a total of 24 basic letters. Letters can combine into a block to form a syllable; one block of letters signifies one syllable. A block consists of three elements: a beginning consonant or onset, a medial vowel or nucleus, and a final consonant or coda.

In Figure 4, the character "실(honoring affix)" has a long melisma, but one cannot easily pronounce the diction of that syllable because of the final consonant "ㄹ(L)". In order to improve vocalization, the singer has to emphasize the vowel rather than the consonant. In the example of the syllable "실(sil)", the singer should weaken the emphasis on the beginning consonant of "ㅅ(s)" and strengthen the emphasis on the middle vowel of "ㅣ(i)". At the end of the final note of the melisma, the singer should add a slight emphasis for the final consonant of "ㄹ(l)".

#### *4.5. Briefer Singing Parts Because of Space Limitations*

Although Korea had its first Western-style (hybrid of Romanesque and Gothic) church in 1892, today's Korean churches have relatively smaller sizes than European churches. The smaller sizes of Korean Catholic chapels mean smaller distances between the altars and the entry gates. These circumstances translate into liturgical processions shorter in duration than the more drawn-out processes that can reasonably happen in large chapels with greater distances. In these shorter time constraints, only shorter hymns can take place. As shown in Figure 5, this constraint affects the singing of "Hosanna filio David (Hosanna to the Son of David; 호산나 = Hosanna, 다윗의 = of David, and 자손 = son)" on Palm Sunday. Because of the chant's antiphon style that requires two singing groups that take turns, the "Hosanna filio David" should normally require the performance of both the refrain and psalm parts. On the other hand, space and time limitations in Korea mean that Palm Sunday Masses only feature performances of the refrain parts.

**Figure 5.** Comparison between the original Latin (**a**) and Korean (**b**) scores of "Hosanna filio David" (A Database of Gregorian Scores 2021; Catholic Conference of Korea 2021).

#### *4.6. Challenging Melodic Lines*

On Good Friday, a priest enters the church with a cross wrapped in a cloth. As he removes the cloth, he sings the words "Ecce lignum Crucis (Behold the wood of the cross; 보라 = behold, 십자나무 = the wood of the cross, 여기 = on which, 세상 구원이 = the salvation of the world, and 달렸네 = hung)" three times, but this singing requires considerable preparation. As shown by Figure 6, these sung words have many melismas, so the priest must master these melismas before he can properly sing the words. If he does not have this kind of singing expertise, then the need for an alternative chant with a plainer structure might arise.

**Figure 6.** Comparison between the original Latin (**a**) and Korean (**b**) scores of "Ecce lignum Crucis" (A Database of Gregorian Scores 2021; Catholic Conference of Korea 2021).

(b)

#### *4.7. Translation Losses from Neumes to Modern Notes*

In order for the cross-holding priest to attract more attention, he will place an emphasis on the word "Ecce (behold)". As shown in Figure 6, he accomplishes this objective through the use of a Bi-punctum (two points) for the syllable "-ce". The modernized Korean score, however, just uses the musical slur. This musical choice arguably diminishes the appealing power of the call to look at the cross. On the other hand, one might equally argue for how the selection of a slur should begin a conversation about the insight that existed behind that musical decision.

#### **5. Conclusions**

This essay briefly showed the history of the Korean Catholic Church and musical aspects of that history. Our bibliography clearly shows an acknowledgement of helpful insights found in certain sources on indigenization (defined in this context as an attempt to transform an idea into something firmly defined by a local or native people). While authors of these sources clearly saw the translation of Gregorian chant into the vernacular as a process of indigenization, we feel more inclined to characterize this translation process as one of localization. The adaptation of Gregorian chant into common languages does not quite entail a local culture's unfettered control over how to arrange translations, particularly because the Catholic Church seeks to preserve the integrity of the chant. This article also described some issues that occurred in translating Latin-text Gregorian chants into Asian versions, with a dominant emphasis on the process of translating the texts into Korean. For the Korean translation process, some of these issues included discrepancies in the number of syllables, shifts in melismatic emphasis, difficult diction in vocalization, briefer singing parts because of space limitations, challenging melodic lines, and translation losses from neumes to modern notes.

The understudied nature of research regarding Gregorian chant's localization in Asia hinders our efforts to paint a truly comprehensive portrait of this topic. This reality seems especially true when we try to explore related issues in Eastern Orthodox Christianity. Given the Eastern Orthodox Christian Church's relatively small physical presence in Korea relative to the presence of the Korean Catholic Christian Church, we expected to find a dearth of scholarship on the monodic Byzantine chant's musical interpretations in Korea. Even so, we feel that certain similarities between Byzantine chant and Gregorian chant can highlight a degree of helpful cross-pollination between researchers in the Korean localization of both types of chant. Both types of chant probably had a common ancestry in the Church of Jerusalem (Wellesz 1954; Jeffery 1992). Both types of chant draw from scriptural narratives profoundly esteemed as sacred wellsprings of truth and edification, and both types of chants firmly exist as unaccompanied music. Both types of chant attempt to liturgically and musically represent the reality of how the Holy Spirit can pray with a profundity that transcends the banality of plainly spoken words (cf. Romans 8:26). These similarities notwithstanding, no scholar should ever try to study the localization of Byzantine chant in Korea as a process indistinguishable from the localization of Gregorian chant in Korea. The peculiarity of Byzantine chant's musical notation system, a system fundamentally divergent from the modern Western notation system, has served, for instance, to create a unique debate in the world of Byzantine chant; musicologists have argued with each other over the extent to which one should try to fit Byzantine chant within the constraints of Western musical notation (Barrett 2010).

The realities of our somewhat limited findings aside, we can broadly say that the modern era has witnessed a Catholic Church whose believers increasingly favor the vernacular language and local musical forms over fidelity to the original Latin and original melodies of Gregorian chant. This situation currently persists, even if the highest members of the official hierarchy seem to proclaim the need to reconcile both the sanctity of Gregorian chant and the preciousness of local cultural backgrounds. The search for a possibly more satisfying reconciliation of these two imperatives may have some fruit in careful discernment on fulfilling the spirit of *Musicam sacram* (1967), which we introduced in Section 2 of this essay. The document essentially outlines a vision for localization that entails, among other things, a vigorous reinforcement of Latin as the language of ordained choirs singing the Divine Office, even if the church allows for vernacular Divine Office singing among non-clerics (No. 41). We should emphasize the fact that this process of reconciliation does not exist as some haphazard combination of Gregorian Chant and the Korean language. The architects of *Muscam sacram* made careful pains in showing respect for both the timelessness of Gregorian chant and the resonance of vernacular languages and local musical cultures. Even if a musical piece proposed for inclusion in the liturgy seems unsuitable for use in the solemnity of a liturgical setting, the Church remains open to the possibility of that musical piece's use in popular devotion (No. 53). Given the popularity of creative and private devotions among the Catholic faithful, a Korean musical piece's use in popular devotion hardly seems to denigrate that kind of music, although opinions on this point arguably vary among rank-and-file Catholics.

Issues in translating Latin-text Gregorian chants into Korean versions may seem greatly significant to the most conservative defenders of the beauty and sacredness of Gregorian chant. On the other hand, these issues may very well escape the attention of most Catholic believers who do not relate to the controlling assumptions of Gregorian chant. These controlling assumptions include the appeal of a universal Latin language revered by the Catholic Church and the appeal of an unaccompanied melody that symbolizes man's humility and emptiness before the Lord. The anecdotal presence of Korean Catholic Christians weakly instructed in the essentials of the faith may also partly explain why many believers fail to see the appeal of Gregorian chant. In the meantime, we feel that the future of Gregorian chant translation efforts in Korea will continue to depend on conversations between the chant's most devout apologists and the people who simply favor the usage of contemporary or local musical traditions in Catholic worship. Regardless of the results of these conversations, the ecclesiastical hierarchy will continue to cherish the singular precedence of Gregorian chant in the Catholic liturgy. Many contemporary hymns sung in Catholic chapels reflect the personal beliefs of composers and the musical traditions of particular nations, or so the advocates of Gregorian chant would have us believe. By way of contrast, the Gregorian chant firmly depends on the liturgy's essence. This essence gives priority to the sanctification of the faithful and the expression of praise and glory to God.

**Author Contributions:** Conceptualization, Z.W.G. and E.Y.C.; formal analysis, E.Y.C. and H.W.; resources, E.Y.C. and H.W.; writing—original draft preparation, E.Y.C. and Z.W.G.; writing—review and editing, H.W. and Z.W.G.; visualization, Z.W.G.; supervision, Z.W.G.; project administration, Z.W.G.; funding acquisition, Z.W.G. All authors have read and agreed to the published version of the manuscript.

**Funding:** This work was supported by the National Research Foundation of Korea (NRF) grant funded by the Korea government (MSIT) (2020R1A2C1A01011131).

**Institutional Review Board Statement:** Not applicable.

**Informed Consent Statement:** Not applicable.

**Data Availability Statement:** Not applicable.

**Acknowledgments:** The authors acknowledge many people who encouraged the development of this paper.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The authors declare no conflict of interest.

#### **References**

*A Catholic Hymn-Book, for Schools and Private Use*. 1849. Edward Caswall, trans. London: James Burns, p. 31.


Boxer, Charles Ralph. 1967. *The Christian Century in Japan: 1549–1650*. Berkeley: University of California Press, p. 206.

Bramantyo, Triyono. 2018. Early Acceptance of Western Music in Indonesia and Japan. *Arts and Social Sciences Journal* 9: 1. [CrossRef] Brockey, Liam Matthew. 2007. *Journey to the East: The Jesuit Mission to China, 1579–1724*. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, p. 145. Catholic Bishops' Conference of Japan 2021: Committee for the Liturgy. 2021. Available online: https://www.cbcj.catholic.jp/english/ japan/comt/liturgy\_e/ (accessed on 1 October 2021).


Wellesz, Egon. 1954. Byzantine Music and Its Place in the Liturgy. *Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association, 1954–155, 81st Session (1954–1955)*, 14.

Yi, Manchae. 1971. *Byeogwipyeon*. Seoul: Yeolhwadang, pp. 105–7.

### *Article* **Liberationist Perspectives on the** *Misa Criolla* **by Ariél Ramírez**

**Adán Alejándro Fernández**

Music Department, California Lutheran University, Thousand Oaks, CA 91360, USA; aafernandez@callutheran.edu

**Abstract:** The *Misa Criolla* by Ariel Ramirez is a symbol of liberation theology in South America. Written between 1963–1964, this musical work is the result of the decisions made on the sacred liturgy at Vatican II and the Indigenous Movements of the 1960s and 1970s. It became popular around the world and helped bring attention to the indigenous poor of South America through its indigenization of the Roman Catholic Mass text and music directly after the Second Vatican Council. The *Misa Criolla*, however, can only be fully appreciated by understanding its process of localization, from its historical context, theological underpinnings to its musical attributes. From a liberationist perspective, it represents the compromise of the openness, liturgically and theologically, of Vatican II and more conservative movements afterwards through the localization of the Catholic Mass liturgy.

**Keywords:** *Misa Criolla*; liberation theology; Vatican II; Pope Francis; Ariél Ramírez

The *Misa Criolla* by Ariel Ramírez is an important work of musical literature for its place in the history of the church. It represents the culmination of generations of struggle within the Catholic Church in how it regards indigenous people, engages the vernacular language, and unifies with culture. The Catholic Church has had difficulties in its past papal documents which endorsed the enslavement of indigenous peoples, and has since tried to rectify its mistakes. Therefore, the Second Vatican Council is important for its openness in engaging the cultures of the world in order to inculturate local practices with the gospel message as a means to authentically foster Christian belief. The *Misa Criolla* localizes Spanish in the Mass as something useful for uniting Latin American people precisely for its foreign and imported history. Since its first performance, the *Misa Criolla* has gained more prominence and relevance, as Pope Francis has called for more equitable treatment of the native population. In this article, I discuss the inception of Ramírez's Mass, its historical context, and how its liberationist themes continue to be important in South America through the indigenization of the Spanish language and localization of various musical styles of South America into a singular work for use at Mass.

#### **1. History of the** *Misa Criolla* **and Ariel Ramírez**

In 1959, Pope John XXIII called for the Second Vatican Council, which allowed for the mass texts to be translated into any language. In light of this, Ariel Ramírez was able to compose his *Misa Criolla*. Ramírez was born in the Provine of Sante Fe, Argentina on 4 September 1921 and learned piano from an early age. The pianist, Arturo Schianca, encouraged him to study piano in the Province of Cordoba where he met the great Argentine poet Atahualpa Yupanqui, "who found in Ramírez a sensitive soul for folk music" (Escalada and Mitchell 2008). Yupanqui encouraged him to study the people and folk music of Argentina. Ramírez then traveled to Europe, where he performed many concerts at notable universities; he had also "been granted a scholarship from the Instituto de Cultura Hispánica for the purpose of studying the oral tradition of Spanish music" (Ibid.). He returned to South American in 1954 and founded the Compañía de Folklore Ariel Ramírez while also traveling around South America (Ibid.).

The idea of creating a religious work came to Ramírez after traveling to Holland, where he had met Father Wenceslao van Lun, who introduced Ramírez to two nuns, sisters

**Citation:** Fernández, Adán Alejándro. 2022. Liberationist Perspectives on the *Misa Criolla* by Ariél Ramírez. *Religions* 13: 189. https://doi.org/ 10.3390/rel13030189

Academic Editors: John MacInnis and Jeremy Perigo

Received: 30 September 2021 Accepted: 8 February 2022 Published: 22 February 2022

**Publisher's Note:** MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

**Copyright:** © 2022 by the author. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by/ 4.0/).

Elizabeth and Reigina Brückner. The sisters told Ramírez of how there was a house in the neighborhood of the convent that was used as a concentration camp during World War II. The sisters would leave food in small packages underneath the prison fence for prisoners until the package was no longer taken, signaling to the sisters that something must have happened to the prisoners. Ramírez was touched by the story and its themes of charity to the degree that his sights were set on how his music could also be of service in the church.

Ramírez then met with Father Osvaldo Catena, who translated the Latin Mass to Spanish and encouraged Ramírez "to compose a Mass in the rhythms and musical forms of Argentina" (Ibid., p. 28). Father Osvaldo Catena in 1963 was the President of the Comisiòn Episcopal Para Sudamérica. This commission was tasked with the Spanish translation of the Latin text of the Mass per the directives of the Vatican Council of 1963 presided by Pope Paul VI. Father Catena invited Ramírez to compose a Mass that used indigenous instruments and style after serving the poor in Santa Fe, an area outlined by railroad tracks, garbage dumps, and caves near the Rio Saldo. The choral arrangements were by Father Segade. The Mass was first recorded in 1964 by the Philips label and was first performed publicly on 20 December 1965 in Mercedes, Uruguay.

#### **2. Perspectives on Catholicism and the Colonization of Latin America**

The history of colonization in South America is complex, and there are many thorough resources on the subject, such as *The Indian in Latin American History: Resistance, Resilience, and Acculturation* (Kicza 1993) edited by John E. Kicza, and *The Oxford Handbook of Latin American History* (Moya 2011) edited by Jose C Moya. For the purposes of this work, the author focuses on some of the papal documents that helped provide the framework behind Christendom and how it influenced how indigenous peoples were treated in South America as a result.

Pope Nicholas V issued papal bull *Dum Diversas* on 18 June 1452, which "authorized Alfonso V of Portugal to conquer 'Saracens (Muslims) and pagans' in a disputed territory in Africa and consign them to 'perpetual servitude'" (Gill 2021). The same Pope then wrote *Romanus Pontifex* on 5 January 1455, which extended the dominion of the Catholic nations of Europe over the non-Christian nations, and called for the enslavement of the native peoples of Africa and the Americas. This particular bull allowed for King Alfonso "to invade, search out, capture, vanquish, and subdue all Saracens and pagans whatsoever ... to reduce their persons to perpetual slavery, and to apply and appropriate to himself and his successors the kingdoms, dukedoms, counties, principalities, dominions, possessions, and goods, and to convert them to his and their use and profit" (Romanus Pontifex 2021).

Charles I of Spain wrote his *Requerimento* in 1514 and expanded the authority of the papal bull by Pope Nicholas. This document utilizes just war theory, which was originally proposed by Augustine. The document called for the right to enslave natives by invoking three requirements for just war theory: rightful sovereign, just cause, and righteous intent. Each reason, as defined in Aquinas' *Summa Theologica* published in 1485, is addressed in the *Requerimento* by invoking the crown, evangelization, and the will of God. This last point is critical because, despite many Franciscans and Jesuits advocating for the rights of many indigenous peoples, the idea of hierarchical Christendom was strong among the Spanish as a whole, and they did not want to risk their privileged positions of power by granting power to the indigenous peoples. Considering that the natives could not read Latin, they found themselves enslaved without ever having understood the document. The disparity between the Spanish and the natives is further exacerbated due to the final paragraph of the *Requerimento*:

If you do not do this, however, or resort maliciously to delay, we warn you that, with the aid of God, we will enter your land against you with force and will make war in every place and by every means we can and are able, and we will then subject you to the yoke and authority of the Church and Their Highnesses. We will take you and your wives and children and make them slaves, and as such we will sell them, and will dispose of you and them as Their Highnesses order. And

we will take your property and will do to you all the harm and evil we can, as is done to vassals who will not obey their lord or who do not wish to accept him, or who resist and defy him. We avow that the deaths and harm which you will receive thereby will be your own blame, and not that of Their Highnesses, nor ours, nor of the gentlemen who come with us. (Council of Castille (Spain) (1510))

It is no wonder that, in the 1490s, the colonization of the Americas began with Spain in 1492 and Portugal in 1500. Chasteen describes the religious implications of the colonization: "But we should not underestimate the religious mystique that also surrounded the Spanish and Portuguese monarchs. Isabel was above all a Catholic monarch. Centuries of reconquest had created a true crusading mentality in Iberia, and the monarchies used this fervor to justify their increasingly absolute power." (Chasteen 2016, pp. 26–28).

Portugal used the indigenous people as cheap labor when they established sugar plantations. The Portuguese used force against the natives, which drove them further inland. As a way to try and regain control of Brazil, the king "had parceled out enormous slices to wealthy individuals, called captains, who promised to colonize and rule in his name" (Ibid., p. 32). The Tupi were a native population that rebelled against the Portuguese rule, but were eventually destroyed by, among other things, the disease brought by the Europeans; to help replace the lost Tupi people, the Portuguese brought over Africans and enslaved them.

The mixing of indigenous peoples, enslaved Africans, Spanish, and Portuguese meant that people of mixed races began to emerge. The rise of mestizos meant that transculturation was inevitable, especially for those in the lower strata of society. Chasteen writes:

Transculturation and race mixing went together (though, naturally, transculturation can occur without any mixing of genes, and vice versa). The urban working class and the free peasantries of colonial Latin America were multihued, and intermarriage among very poor whites, blacks, and indigenous people was common, as were consensual partnerships. Often *not* consensual, or only superficially so, were the sexual encounters between social unequals of different race, as when "gentlemen" hired prostitutes or forced themselves on enslaved women. (Ibid., p. 84)

The merging of races and peoples in different strata of society also meant that a hierarchy was established between the different classes of people, with the wealthy white Spanish and Portuguese at the top. Any perceived threat from the indigenous class was immediately dealt with, usually harshly or by force. The Iberian crowns established a caste system in which indigenous people would be in one category, whites would be in another, and different categories were created for mestizos, allowing for up to sixteen other castes. More wealthy people from indigenous castes could apply for an official exemption to make them "legally white", so that they could take up positions of distinction and authority (Ibid., p. 88). Still, the indigenous caste was the lowest and prevented indigenous people from becoming priests, attending university, owning weapons, and wearing silk, among other things (Ibid., p. 87). The influence of the indigenous was seen as a threat to the hierarchical system.

An example of this was during the Inquisition trial of Francisco de la Cruz. A prominent Dominican in Peru during the late sixteenth century, De la Cruz was "accused of organizing a millenarian cult in Lima that predicted the imminent destruction of Christendom in Europe and the establishment of a new, pure church in Peru under his leadership on the eve of the Apocalypse" (Durston 2007, pp. 59–60). It is also well known that the indigenous population in colonial Peru responded positively to the sounds of music in their worship. De la Cruz, therefore, took issue with the church at the Second Lima Council when it prohibited the performance of taquis or native song-dance genres "and of funerary and initiation rites, claiming that these were not necessarily idolatrous and that the prohibition was alienating the Indians from Christianity" (Ibid., p. 60). De la Cruz was seen as a threat to the established order of the church through his invocation of the sovereignty of the

indigenous people; he was arrested in 1572 and then burned at the stake in 1578 (Ibid., p. 59).

#### **3. Indigenous Movements**

The Indigenous Movements in Latin America are complex. Rather than discuss the entirety of colonial history in the Americas and Africa, the author indicates some of the uprisings in the Americas that drew so many indigenous peoples. For the Quechua, Aymara, and Guarení people, it started about 200 years earlier with a 109-day "siege of La Paz that rattled Spanish colonial rule" (Dangl 2019, p. 3). This indigenous insurrection was launched from Cuzco and Potosi in 1780 by Túpac Katari, Tomás Katari, and Túpac Amaru. The siege left over 15,000 dead, and Túpac Katari was eventually captured by the Spanish and quartered by four horses. The Spanish placed his limbs on display throughout the region in order to instill fear among the indigenous from repeating another insurrection. These events would inspire new groups in the 1960s and onward.

In the 1960s, Fausto Reinaga became an important philosopher and voice for the indigenous people. Dangl writes, "Through an integration of Marxist and indigenous worldviews, his writing reflected his own lived experience as an indigenous man living through the tumultuous periods of the Chaca War of 1928 to 1935 and the National Revolution" (Ibid., p. 35). Many Aymara youth would come to his home to hear him lecture, and his books can be found all over Bolivia and other Andean regions. Reinaga, in effect, sparked several initiatives in the following decades that would honor the indigenous people of the Andes.

#### **4. Language**

While the use of indigenous instruments and performers marks Ramirez's Mass among other Spanish Mass settings of the time and as a liturgical work compared to the Latin Mass prior to Vatican II, there is the question of why Ramírez used Spanish for the Mass as opposed to Quechua or another indigenous language. After all, the Spanish language can be seen as a relic of colonization, and it would seem that its use might mean that the natives were under continued oppression. The complexity of this situation can partially be explained by looking at the late twentieth century and at the relationship between language and socioeconomic status. María Elena García writes:

For indigenous leaders working toward self-determination for their communities as for bilingual activists, the link between language and both cultural and national identity is clear. But while defending, maintaining, and preventing the "deterioration" of Quechua is of vital importance to bilingual-education activists, acquisition of Spanish—as the language of wider social accessibility—is essential for the social advancement of indigenous highlanders. (García 2003)

The issue of bilingual education in Peru to which the quote above refers is helpful in contextualizing the state of language hierarchy in South America in the midtwentieth century, similar to the history of the English language in North America. The Spanish language, as a result, had become fully adopted by the majority of people of South America, excluding Brazil (Portuguese), Guyana (English), Suriname (Dutch), and French Guiana (French). The transnational acclaim of Ramírez's Mass attests to its success in indigenizing the Spanish language, which can be explained in the context of Scruggs' definition:

Successful indigenization of a more recently arrived religion must sufficiently emasculate the ties that bind local musical aesthetics to previously existing belief systems so that in a "neutralized" form they can be utilized to express the tenets of the new religion. (Scruggs 2005)

No longer viewed as an oppressive force, the Spanish language allowed for the *Misa Criolla* to transcend national boundaries.

The Spanish language functioned both as indigenized language, transcending the local population for a few reasons. In the established sixteenth century encomienda system in which wealthy Spanish and Portuguese landowners ruled, assimilating the natives was more about securing their productive labor. Thomas J. La belle and Peter S. White write:

Rather than investing money for schools for Indians, which most Europeans in the New World saw as only contributing to native insolence, the colonial landowning and mining interests relied heavily on an intermediate class of native language interpreters, usually *mestizos* or *mulattos* (mixed bloods) from each area. (La Belle and White 1978)

The use of language as a means to separate the natives was meant as a way to control them and keep them from government interactions. To learn Spanish was to empower the native person with the same tools as the elite which was seen as a threat. In the nineteenth century, there was a shift from "a rural agricultural base to an urban industrial-commercial one" (Ibid., p. 254). As workers came into industries that required more supervision, and more contact with Spanish, more natives became familiar with the Spanish language; a sector emerged that included small urban industries, related tertiary (i.e., service) activities, and a growing white-collar bureaucracy" (Ibid., p. 256).

Although these "middle groups" came to propose "wide-spread primary education as the most efficient means of achieving controlled social assimilation of the Indian" (Ibid.), it was not meant for all natives. La Belle and White write, "Instead, the educational goal of these groups was a *limited* assimilation of the Indian, focusing principally on the spread of an essentially middle class, nation-oriented ideology, i.e., 'changing the customs of the Indians' and promoting an identification with the wider society" (Ibid., p. 257). The Spanish language empowered the native population and was indigenized through schooling and labor. It transcended the native population by allowing for them to participate in affairs that were historically reserved for Spanish-speaking Europeans.

Ramírez maintained the Latin names for the movements of the Mass. This was used "perhaps as a nexus between the pre-Conciliate tradition and its post-Conciliate version" (Escalada and Mitchell 2008). This is significant in symbolizing the continuation of the core of the Mass liturgy, albeit changed, and is another example of language being used to transcend national boundaries; in this particular case, however, it was used to participate in an imagined global Catholic community.

#### **5. Instrumentation and Harmonic Language**

The text of the *Misa Criolla* is from the Mass ordinary approved by the second Vatican Council. Ramírez used instrumentation and harmonic language to speak to the spirit of the indigenous people who up to the 1960s had by and large celebrated Mass using the Latin text. The Kyrie, for example, uses two genres of native music, the baguala and the vidala. The baguala is based on a tritonic (Westerners might hear this as a major triad) scale that is "characteristic of the region of the South American Plateau" (Ibid., p. 30), which includes southern Bolivia, Northern Chile, and the Argentine northwest. The instrument that best captures this scale is the erke or corneta, classified as aerophones, which are found in the Andean region; the same instrument is called the trutruca in the more southern regions. Although these instruments are not specified in the score, their idiosyncrasies are clear in the triadic melodies sung by the soloist in the Kyrie.

The Gloria uses the carnavalito, which is a dance used throughout the Andean regions. Instruments typically used to accompany the carnavalito are the quena, erkes, pinkullos, sikus, bombo (percussive instrument), chaschas (percussive instrument made of of goat nails tied up in a cluster), and charango (Ibid., p. 34). For the Sanctus, Ramírez uses the carnival cochabambino, "a group dance of joyful character, whose origins are found in the native groups (black or Indians)" (Ibid., p. 41).

#### **6. The Local Community**

The *Misa Criolla* is an example of Catholic inculturation as opposed to contextualization. Ingalls clarifies the contexts of these terms and why the distinction is important for the purposes of this study:

Inculturation, the preferred term within the Roman Catholic Church, is often concerned with the relationship between the church as an institution or codified tradition and local contexts. Discussions of contextualization within Protestant circles, by contrast, are usually concerned with how the Christian message is translated into different cultural contexts and take a particular understanding of the Christian scriptures, as opposed to centralized church traditions or church hierarchy, as the ultimate source of authority. (Ingalls et al. 2018, p. 7)

This perspective places the *Misa Criolla* in all its text and performance practice under the central authority of the Catholic hierarchy. The authentic expression of the Catholic liturgy through local indigenous instruments and common daily vernacular are all adherent to Catholic authority, and are theoretically subject to change and removal. Realizing the evangelical power of an indigenized liturgy, however, the Catholic Church utilizes this not only to evangelize more fully non-Christian indigenous peoples, but also to embed Catholicism within the local culture, thereby making the distinction between sacred and secular vague and indistinguishable.

The *Misa Criolla* becomes locally useful as an amalgamation of the many indigenous cultures of Latin America, each movement being distinct and important to particular cultural continuities. The Mass also transcends national boundaries through its localization of Spanish dance. For example, the present-day rhythms in the Argentine zamba, the Peruvian marinera, the Chilean chilena, and the cueca of Argentina, Bolivia, and Chile all have roots in a Spanish dance. The musical meters common to these dances "consist of the juxtaposition and/or simultaneous use of 3/4 and 6/8" (Escalada and Mitchell 2008, p. 29). Each dance in the Mass is a localization of Spanish dance.

In regard to instruments used in Ramírez's Mass, the caja represents a transnational continuity and localization of instruments. A "tubular membranophone with two leather heads and a wood body of hollowed tree trunk, with leather tuning ropes bound to the heads of a zigzag fashion ... it is played with a stick or mallet, serving as an accompaniment for the baguala, vidala, vidalita, and carnavalito" (Ibid.), all of which are used in the *Misa Criolla*. This instrument, unlike the Spanish origin of the dances, is pre-Columbian and likely has roots with membranophones from Africa (Ibid.).

#### **7.** *Gaudium et spes* **and Vatican II**

At the Second Vatican Council, the documents *Gaudium et spes* and *Lumen gentium* speak to the equitable inclusion of indigenous peoples. *Gaudium et spes* in particular was important in elevating human solidarity; the dignity of the person is at the heart of the document and through human solidarity, people were expected to uphold this truth. It reads:

There are many ties between the message of salvation and human culture. For God, revealing Himself to His people to the extent of a full manifestation of Himself in His Incarnate Son, has spoken according to the culture proper to each epoch. (Vatican II 1965)

The document understands the role of the human person in the mission of the church to transform the world. This is an entirely different tone from the papal documents of the fifteenth century which sanctioned the enslavement of natives; the document continues:

Likewise the Church, living in various circumstances in the course of time, has used the discoveries of different cultures so that in her preaching she might spread and explain the message of Christ to all nations, that she might examine it and more deeply understand it, that she might give it better expression in liturgical celebration and in the varied life of the community of the faithful. (Ibid.)

*Gaudium et spes* also speaks of a "new humanism" that John O'Malley describes as a "far cry from so-called secular humanism" (O'Malley 2010, p. 267) and is "based on a human nature created by God, infused with the Holy Spirit, and destined for God" (Ibid.). It was meant to appeal to all people "of good-will," calling for the respect of those not

Christian. *Gaudium et spes* was unprecedented for calling on the church to also learn from the world, not just sitting at the top in a hierarchy; the top–down function of the church now also had a level of influence from the bottom–up. Keen on the relevance to human solidarity, O'Malley writes: "It called on wealthy nations to help the poor ones, and it called on Catholics to cooperate with others in international organizations working for peace and justice" (Ibid., p. 266).

#### **8. Liberation Theology**

With *Gaudium et spes*, Vatican II became a force for granting all peoples a place at the table for cultivating the Catholic faith within their cultural context. Liberation theology comes to mind for its focus on advocating for the historically oppressed, especially in Latin America, and was popularized by theologians such as Gustavo Gutierrez, Leonardo Boff, and Jesuit priests Juan Luis Segundo and Jon Sobrino. For Gustavo Gutierrez, the Incarnation displays "*anthropological aspects* of revelation" (Gutierrez 1988, p. 6), revealing the human in "our situation before the Lord and with other humans" (Ibid.). In other words, the anthropological aspects of revelation are evident in the Incarnation in that God reveals what it is to be human through Christ; it is in the example of the Incarnation that God becomes fully human and for the indigenous, this meant that their oppression was analogous with the human suffering of Christ. The theme of liberation from oppression, therefore, became applicable for both the indigenous peoples of Latin America and Christ as their suffering became analogous to His suffering.

Liberation also speaks to the indigenous person by exploring the relationship between the historical process of human liberation and salvation (Ibid., p. 32). Gutierrez writes:

If we look more deeply into the question of the value of salvation which emerges from our understanding of history—that is, liberating praxis, we see that at issue is a question concerning *the very meaning of Christianity*. To be a Christian is to accept and to live—in solidarity, in faith, hope, and charity—the meaning that the Word of the Lord and our encounter with that Word give to the historical becoming of humankind on the way toward total communion. (Ibid.)

The Mass by Ramírez and other indigenous vernacular Masses, therefore, can be bridges of solidarity between indigenous and nonindigenous people in hopes to build more authentic communion.

The liberation movement brought together the sacred and temporal spheres, the church and the world. Historically, the church and the world were brought together under Christendom since the edict of Milan under Charlemagne in the fourth century. However, salvation was at the exclusive center of only the church as first stated in the Letter LXXII of Cyprian of Carthage in the third century: "salus extra ecclesiam non est" ("there is no salvation out of the Church"). Therefore, the responsibility of the laity was to aid the ecclesial institution in an auxiliary way that inevitably led to hierarchy in society. It is for this reason that early Christendom was closely tied with theocracy.

The French Revolution, the ideas of philosopher Jacques Maritain (1882–1973), and the Second Vatican Council, among other events, all contributed to the end of historic European Christendom and paved the way for a new conception of Christendom in which the church and world are autonomous. In this new system, priests serve only as the conscience and inspiration for the temporal sphere (Ibid., p. 37.). These roles, with salvation centered in the church, are distinct. However, the distinction was not so defined outside of Western Europe, as Latin America still had a system where both the church and social order were merged and part of daily life. In Latin America, this merged society is precisely the reason why liberation theology has such application and practicality for the Catholic church there.

#### **9. Other Vernacular Masses**

Other vernacular Masses were composed around the same time as the *Misa Criolla*. The *Misa popular nicaragüense* (*Nicaraguan Popular*, or *People's Mass*), for example, was composed in 1968 and in 1975, the *Misa campesina nicaragüense* (*Nicaraguan Peasant Mass*) was composed, both in Spanish (Scruggs 2005, p. 96). The *Misa campesina nicaragüense* (Nicaraguan Peasant Mass) invokes liberationist imagery, especially in the *Santo*, which reads:

Por todos los caminos Veredas y cañadas Diviso Jesucristo La luz de tu verdad Vos sos tres veces Santo, Vos sos tres veces Justo . . . Libéranos del yugo, danos la libertad Vos sos el Dios parejo, No andas con carambadas, vos sos hombre de ñeques, el mero tayacán... Vos sos tres veces Santo, Vos sos tres veces Justo . . . Libéranos del yugo, danos la libertad Through all roads, paths and valleys I see, Jesus Christ, the light of your truth. You are three times holy. You are three times righteous; release us from our yoke, give us freedom. You are a fair God You are not foolish, you are a man of strength, a true leader. You are three times holy. You are three times righteous; Release us from our yoke, give us freedom.

Never officially used by the Catholic church in any official way, the Nicaraguan Peasant Mass was still popularly performed in Nicaragua by the peasant class, as it brought attention to the poor in Nicaragua who historically were the exploited Miskitu people (Ortiz 1987). In her thesis "Empowered by Song: The Relationship Between *Misa Campesina* and Peasant Involvement in Nicaragua's Revolution", Mery A. Pérez cites composer Mejía Godoy in her interview with him:

When I write the Mass, I cannot ignore that we are a multi lingual, multi racial and multi ethnic country and that's why I incorporate the Miskito Lawana instead of the Agnus Dei as a song that is born out of the vital experience of the Atlantic Coast. And the different rhythms from the North and the Pacific are all represented there, for example: Pascua Son, Mazurca, Vals, Polka, Nica Son, Bull Fight Son, all from the Pacific and the North and the Miskito Lawana Son represents the presence of the Atlantic Coast in the Peasant Mass. (Peréz 2014, p. 61)

The first stanza of the Miskito Lawana of the *Misa campesina nicaragüense* reads:

Miskitu nani ba won dara walaia Swak sakan storka na pain wali bangwaia. Won Aisa purara ai kupia pihni ba Miskitu nesanka ban yamni munisa. Miskitu brothers, we must reflect, This is the story of our salvation. Let us ponder that our Celestial Father Gives the Miskitu people his blessing. (Gordillo 2021)

Although the *Misa campesina nicaragüense* is not an authorized translation of the Mass, there are similarities with the *Misa Criolla* in how they localize transnational musical styles. It was not authorized by the Catholic church, however, for two reasons: (1) the words stray from the authorized Spanish translation, and (2) for its explicit lyrics that portray class struggle. The Catholic Church had by 1975 begun to portray itself as neutral within class struggles.

#### **10. Opposition**

In 1983, Pope John Paul II spoke to Latin American bishops and called for "a new evangelization: new in its ardor, its methods, and expressions" (John Paul II 1984a). This New Evangelization called for the conversion of all Catholics and responded to the liberation movements since the 1960s. The church had felt threatened by the "radically historicizing consequences of the Second Vatican Council" (Peterson and Vasquez 1998) and felt the need to reassert the hierarchical structure. Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and chief architect of the Vatican's conservative realignment, claimed that doing so requires "a search for a new equilibrium after all the exaggerations of an indiscriminate opening to the world" (Ratzinger and Messori 1985). In essence, Ratzinger called for an adaption of liberationist ideas while avoiding class exclusivity, specifically exclusive preference for the poorer class.

Part of this effort of equilibrium came in the form of two Vatican documents, *Libertatis* Nuntius (1984) and the *Instruction on Christian* Freedom and Liberation (1986). While the first document was critical of the liberation movements in Latin America, the second sought to incorporate some of its themes by expressly lifting up the poor as a preferential option for the church. By expressing this option for the poor in broader and apolitical language, the church felt that it was able to avoid class politics and appeal to the Masses by defining "poor" as those who are in need of Christ. The *Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation* reads:

The special option for the poor, far from being a sign of particularism or sectarianism, manifests the universality of the Church's being and mission. This option excludes no one. This is the reason why the Church cannot express this option by means of reductive sociological and ideological categories which would make this preference a partisan choice and a source of conflict. (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith 1986)

Another adaptation of liberation theology directly after Vatican II was the idea of social or structural sin. Instead of structural sin being represented in systems of oppression as purported in liberation theology, Pope John Paul II claimed, "All situations of social injustice are first of all the result of the accumulation and the concentration of many personal sins" (John Paul II 1991). The key difference here is the change from systemic or structural to personal. Pope John Paul II writes,

The real responsibility, then, lies with individuals ... So true is this that even when such a situation can be changed in its structural and institutional aspects by the force of law or—as unfortunately more often happens by the law of force, the change in fact proves to be incomplete, or short duration and ultimately vain and ineffective—not to say counterproductive if the people directly or indirectly responsible for that situation are not converted. (John Paul II 1984b)

Part of the problem with this statement is that although a social movement may lead to incomplete change, such as with the lingering racism that continues to this day after civil rights in the United States and the indigenous movements in Latin America, progress toward a fuller communion through solidarity is still made, albeit not immediate. In essence, social movements can generally be sacramental in the sense that they signal God's grace outwardly. These social movements, therefore, can become catechetical and formational in encountering Christ with the the Mass by Ramírez as a possible catalyst. Pope Francis abandonrf some of the apolitical language of his predecessors in *Fratelli Tutti* by addressing the injustice against migrants and encouraging more specific language in addressing injustice. The *Misa Criolla*, therefore, reflects this compromise of incorporating liberationist

themes with the more conservative New Evangelization movement by maintaining the approved text for the Mass while rejecting additional text such as in the liberation Masses of Nicaragua.

#### **11.** *Amazonia Querida* **and** *Fratelli tutti*

In February, 2020, Pope Francis introduced *Amazonia Querida*, the postsynodal apostolic exhortation of Pope Francis, written in response to the Synod of Bishops for the Pan-Amazon region held in Rome in October 2019. It is an important document and precursor to *Fratelli tutti* because it upholds the Amazon tainforest as integral to the peoples it sustains. It is a culture. Its worth, in other circles argued to be self-evident, is, for Pope Francis, tied to its people. Therefore, it is no coincidence that Pope Francis had the *Misa Criolla* performed at St. Peter's Basilica on 12 December 2014 for the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which became a clear signal to the indigenous peoples of Latin America of his intentions by tying the vernacular Mass to the patron saint of the Americas. He writes in *Amazonia Querida*:

Efforts need to be made to configure ministry in such a way that it is at the service of a more frequent celebration of the Eucharist, even in the remotest and most isolated communities. At Aparecida, all were asked to heed the lament of the many Amazonian communities "deprived of the Sunday Eucharist for long periods of time". There is also a need for ministers who can understand Amazonian sensibilities and cultures from within. (Francis 2021)

An advocate of the sustainability of cultures that surround the Amazon, Pope Francis offers more incentive for the continued performance and utilization of the *Misa Criolla*.

Pope Francis spoke more broadly on fraternity, mentioned in his *Amazonia Querida*, in his *Fratelli tutti*, published in October of 2020. In this document alone, Pope Francis writes plentifully about the marginalized that one could write an extensive separate piece on the theology of suffering and liberation. For our purposes, only a few passages are mentioned as they pertain to the elevation of indigenous people and offer more incentive for the continued performance of the *Misa Criolla* today. Pope Francis writes on human dignity:

On the other hand, if we accept the great principle that there are rights born of our inalienable human dignity, we can rise to the challenge of envisaging a new humanity. We can aspire to a world that provides land, housing, and work for all. This is the true path of peace, not the senseless and myopic strategy of sowing fear and mistrust in the face of outside threats. For a real and lasting peace will only be possible "on the basis of a global ethic of solidarity and cooperation in the service of a future shaped by interdependence and shared responsibility in the whole human family." (Francis 2020, p. 76)

Pope Francis' statement unpacks two ideas. First is the idea that a "new humanity" is possible through the intentional work of recognizing the worth of human dignity in every person. This particular theme is not new and can be seen in the writings of indigenous authors in the midtwentieth century, particularly in those of Fausto Reinaga. Reinaga's popular book *La Revolución India* (The Indian Revolution), published in 1970, invokes the idea of an ideal society that has no hunger or murder, as embodied in the pre-conquest society of Tawantinsuyo, otherwise known as the Inca Empire (Dangl 2019, pp. 36–37). For Reinaga, Tawantinsuyo was the new humanity. This idea, alongside his concept of two Bolivias, where one country would be governed by the indigenous people, and the other by those of European descent, was popular among the Quechua people of the 1960s and 1970s. Pope Francis' theme of a "new humanity" has parallels with that of Reinaga, albeit in broader and less exclusive terms.

Imbedded in the quote from *Fratelli tutti* is again the idea of human solidarity. This is key to understanding the responsibility of the church in its ongoing work toward restoration and reconciliation with marginalized peoples. Such ongoing actions are motivated by the idea of social sin or collective sin in which personal sins become collective through active participation. The Bible accounts for social sin in the way that Israel struggles to remain faithful according to the ancient covenant and in Luke 4: 18–19 as Jesus calls for the release of captives and the liberation of the oppressed. Gutierrez also writes:

But in the liberation approach sin is not considered as an individual, private, or merely interior reality—asserted just enough to necessitate "spiritual" redemption which does not challenge the order in which we live. Sin is regarded as a social, historical fact, the absence of fellowship and love in relationships among persons, the breach of friendship with God and with other persons, and, therefore, an interior, personal fracture. (Gutierrez 1988, pp. 102–3)

The historical and contemporary aspects of sin, according to Gutierrez, are binding among all peoples. This is important when considering the papal documents of 1452 and history of colonialism that was sanctioned by the Church. Pope Francis recognizes the importance of human solidarity in this regard to the extent that past sin must not be forgotten, lest humankind impede their own progress. Pope Francis writes: "We can never move forward without remembering the past; we do not progress without an honest and unclouded memory" (Pope Francis 2020, p. 141).

#### **12. Conclusions**

Ariel Ramírez's Mass was internationally recognized and revered as a masterful work, not least of which for its ability to represent indigenous communities in Latin America. It is the embodiment of past and present, of the age of colonization in the late fifteenth century and Vatican II. It is a culmination of localization in music, language, and culture. It comes from the people, not seeking to rectify the past in a single action but as a symbol of the continued Catholic responsibility to learn from it and equitably empower those who have historically been silenced because of it. Pope Francis continues in this tradition through his writings *Querida Amazonia* and *Fratelli tutti*, calling for more attention to how the work to empower the indigenous and enslaved voice is not yet completed. This is what gives the *Misa Criolla* continued relevance, and it will continue to enjoy popularity in Latin America and the world so long as the struggle for dignity of all peoples is at the forefront of the Catholic community.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The author declares no conflict of interest.

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