Terry Teachout writes about a composer whom Dana Gioia says: “one of the few living composers whom I would call great.”

Says Mr. Lauridsen: “There are too many things out there that are away from goodness. We need to focus on those things that ennoble us, that enrich us.” The musical language in which he embodies this simple belief is conservative in the best and most creative sense of the word. His sacred music is unabashedly, even fearlessly tonal, and his chiming harmonies serve as underpinning for gently swaying melodic lines that leave no doubt of his love for medieval plainchant. Nothing about his music is “experimental”: It is direct, heartfelt and as sweetly austere as the luminous sound of church bells at night.

That’s what being a Christian musician is about.

The great musician Fernando Ortega gives a bit of advice to hymn writers: happy church songs don’t stick to your ribs. Work on that next hymn in the light of some specific imagery or drama from the Scriptures. Ortega notes: “It’s easy to write a chorus that says:

God, you are a Holy God

I need your grace to see me through

I need your mercy to make me new

Let me live each day for you.

I just made that up in two minutes and there’s nothing wrong with it. It might fit easily and competitively among the hundreds of worship songs that are available to choose from. But compare those lines to the third stanza from the above hymn:

Let holy charity mine outward vesture be,

And lowliness become mine inner clothing;

True lowliness of heart, which takes the humbler part,

And o’er its own shortcomings weeps with loathing.”

Today, dear readers, is International Talk Like A Pirate Day, which I’m sure you have been celebrating since midnight. Because ruthless pirates are truly misunderstood dreamers who have poorly chosen ways to work out their pain over dashed hopes, I post the following beautiful Norwegian song by a little known but incredibly gorgeous singer (do we know who this is?) as a way of soothing the savage pirate in us all.