Before Edvard Grieg became Norway’s main musical man, there was a guy named Rikard Nordraak who was in the running for the position. Nordraak is the composer of the Norwegian national anthem, but sadly died when he was only 23, leaving behind only a handful of works. Saddened by the sudden and untimely death of his friend (they were only born a year apart), Grieg wrote a Funeral March in his honor. He was so fond of the work that he asked it to be played at his own funeral (which it was.) This slow, heavy music can help to express and relieve the pain that we feel when someone we love dies too soon.

Today’s episode is brought to you by the International Talk Like a Pirate Day advocacy board.

Arrrg! Avast, ye landlubbers, and harken to me tale. The seas be wild, they be, and only the sturdiest sea-legs be worthy of a ship as fine as the Flying Dutchman. What be the Flying Dutchman, ye ask? Shiver me timbers, I ne’er known a landlubber such as ye, what never heard of the Dutchman. ‘Tis a ghost ship, doomed to sail the seven seas, and her ghost captain is bound to this fate forever, unless – ah, ye guessed it – a fair wench did declare love for him. You see, us pirates be romantic folk – we love the battle between life and death, damnation and salvation, and the redemption that only true love can give ye. Wot? Ye don’t believe me, do ye? Well, a pox on you and your damned landlubbering gollymangers, and may ye be caught in the storm like the one that inspired old Dicky Wagner to compose this overture, and may it bring ye to Davy Jone’s locker, or worse yet, bring ye aboard the accursed Flying Dutchman herself.

If it tickle ye barnacles, I must mention that this recording be the finest I’ve heard – the inner parts do not get obscured in a sea of messy writing. Ye can hear every note clearly. May your sailing skies be as clear and clean as these.

A fellow church musician once said to me that the poetry of George Herbert shows us that good hymns can indeed have good words. While some hymns merely repeat a simplistic word phrase over and over, Herbert’s plumb the depths of the soul. Likewise, there are sacred melodies that move us to new heights, and other that are tacky or dull.

This setting of “Love Bade Me Welcome”, from Ralph Vaughan-Williams‘ Five Mystical Songs, is not “catchy”; the dark, modal melody is slow to develop. The words require you to actually listen to them and think a little. This is musical meat, not a quick sugar rush; it feeds us in a lasting way that builds us up. It tells an allegorical story of an intimate dinner where a guest feels unworthy of his host; the host gently assures him he is worthy, and has him sit down to a feast. At 3:44, Vaughan-Williams uses the chant of the ancient Eucharistic hymn O Sacrum Convivium (O Sacred Banquet), tying Herbert’s poem to the Christian sacrament, ending with a quiet ascent to heavenly bliss.