There’s a great hymn, O Filii et Filiae, which is sung in many churches on the Sunday after Easter, because its text mirrors the gospel lesson of the day – the story of doubting Thomas. It is one of those instances of a gripping narrative wed to a simple yet interesting melody which, being roughly 600 years old, has clearly stood the test of time.

For me, it’s a chance to pull out one of my favorite organ pieces, don my beret, and pretend to be French. French organs stand out in that they are jam packed with fiery trumpets and other noisy stops, making them exceedingly loud – necessary to fill the cavern of a massive French cathedral with sound. Before the revolution, the French organ tradition included writing (or improvising) variations on popular chants or sacred melodies. Jean-François Dandrieu did just this when we wrote his Offertoire pour la fête de Pâques – variations on O Filii et Filiae, showcasing the terrifying thunder of French organs.

When I hear that sound, it makes me imagine a peasant from a village, coming into Paris and going into a church – and being petrified and awestruck at the sound of the organ. Our human fascination with loud sound, like the appeal of this hymntune, hasn’t changed.

I am deeply humbled by the bravery of any person who willingly risks his or her life for the sake of others, and am thankful for the sacrifice that many made so that I may live as I do. It’s easy to forget this, living in the sheltered, safe world in which most of us live. Please take some time today to remember and give thanks for the lives lost fighting for our way of life.

Edward Elgar‘s “Nimrod” from his Enigma Variations – originally a statement of deep friendship by the composer. Its rich sweeping emotion has made it a perfect choice for remembering the lives of heroes. “Nimrod” was an ancient biblical hunter; Elgar’s friend was “Jaeger”, the German word for hunter – thus the coded title of this movement.

Beethoven was not known for being a polite and gentle man. When he was alive, the European ruling class called all the shots, and musicians were most certainly considered to be of the servant class. So it’s natural that he championed Napoleon‘s revolutions against tyrannical monarchies, so much so that Beethoven decided to dedicate his third symphony to the Frenchman. Well, it was a good idea until Napoleon declared himself emperor, at which point Beethoven angrily ripped off the front page of his symphony and violently rubbed out Bonaparte’s name, leaving a gaping hole in the page.

The fourth movement of the symphony is a set of variations on an original theme Beethoven had written earlier. Putting political and military personages aside, Beethoven is both revolutionary and heroic in this music: Revolutionary because he expressed his unbridled emotions and wrote what he wanted to, practically ushering in the romantic era; Heroic because there are parts in this movement where I believe Beethoven becomes completely lost and doesn’t know what to do next. He doesn’t have Mozart’s grace and complete control over his score; he doesn’t have Bach’s brain for organization, which knew the limits of a piece of music based on the first couple measures. Beethoven has to fight for it – and fight he does, with bravura that you have to admire.