Radio Worship

Yesterday’s call to worship came from Hebrews 12:

For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them. For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. (Hebrews 12:18-24 ESV)

You could, if you were not a Protestant or were flirting with trying to find the old Roman mojo, try to capture this gathering by doing what television does, that is, you could actually try to depict it in statues, paintings, priestly garments, high end liturgy. That is, you could try to show this visibly. And you would give a lot of work to artists. Let’s hope you paid them well.

But if you took the radio approach and let your imagination do the work without the aid of images, you might simply read the passages and not try to prescribe for the gathered who still live on planet earth how this assembly of the living and dead, of angels and God himself should picture such a meeting. It would be like listening to Phil Hendrie or Jean Shepherd (no relation to Norm) and letting your imagination supply the images.

Of course, radio isn’t as refined as high art. But if high liturgy winds up doing to the imagination what television’s images do, how great is that if you are merely a plumber?

Turkey Bound

Was it a sign? Harmonic convergence? Coincidence? Providence? While dressing for church yesterday, I was listening to the local Hillsdale radio station which has a segment of religious broadcasting before devoting several hours to big band hits. Why station managers deem Frank Sinatra and 1940s music as appropriate formats for the Lord’s Day is as mysterious as my needing background sounds on the Sabbath. (My explanation is that I am a product of Jay and Ellen Hart who always had the radio on. Their station of choice was Family Radio. I can only listen to it through streaming audio. The transistor radio in the bathroom only receives the Hillsdale station.)

Anyhow, the song that played yesterday, the day before we leave for Turkey, was “Istanbul (Not Constantinople).” It is a 1953 swing-style song, with lyrics by Jimmy Kennedy and music by Nat Simon. The lyrics comically refer to the official 1930 renaming of the city of Constantinople to Istanbul. The song was originally recorded by the Canadian group The Four Lads on August 12, 1953. This recording was released by Columbia Records and reached the Billboard magazine charts on October 24, 1953, and it peaked at #10. It was the group’s first gold record. Another tidbit from Wikipedia: The Duke’s Men of Yale, an all-male a cappella group at Yale University, perform the song at the end of most of their concerts. The song has been in the repertoire of the Duke’s Men since 1953.

Here are the lyrics.

Istanbul was Constantinople
Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Now it’s Turkish delight on a moonlit night
(Oh) every gal in Constantinople
(Oh) lives in Istanbul, not Constantinople
(Oh) so if you’ve a date in Constantinople
(Oh) she’ll be waiting in Istanbul

Even old New York
Was once New Amsterdam
Why they changed it I can’t say
People just liked it better that way

So take me back to Constantinople
No, you can’t go back to Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Why did Constantinople get the works?
That’s nobody’s business but the Turks’

Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo / ohhhhhhh ohh ohh ohh
Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo / ohhhhhh ohh ohh ohh
Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo / ohhhh ohh ohh ohh ohhh
Istanbul (Istanbul)
Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo / ohhhhhhh ohh ohh ohh
Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo / ohhhhhhh ohh ohh ohh
Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo / ohhhh ohh ohh ohh ohhh
Istanbul (Istanbul)

Even old New York
Was once New Amsterdam
Why they changed it I can’t say
People just liked it better that way

Istanbul was Constantinople
Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Why did Constantinople get the works?
That’s nobody’s business but the Turks’

Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo

So take me back to Constantinople
No, you can’t go back to Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Why did Constantinople get the works?
That’s nobody’s business but the Turks’

Istanbul

You can listen here.

In further preparation for travel to Istanbul (not Constinople) we watched The Edge of Heaven last night after the evening service. It is a very good movie about mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, and the relationships between the Turks and Germans. Lots of Istanbul (and Bremen and Hamburg).