Blow Ye The Trumpet

Blow ye the trumpet, blow, blow.
Sweet is thy work, my God, my King.
I'll praise my Maker with all my breath.
O happy the man who hears.
Why should we start and fear to die?
With songs and honors sounding loud,
blow ye the trumpet, blow, blow;
lovely appearance of death.

For weeks the Ipod in my mind has been playing the song, Blow Ye The Trumpet , a traditional hymn arranged by Kirke Mechem for his 1989 opera, John Brown. On May 14th I participated with the Honolulu Symphony Chorus in a performance of this hymn at Central Union Church. According to our guest conductor, Michael Shasberger, Blow Ye The Trumpet was the favorite hymn of the martyred abolitionist, John Brown. Since the concert, I haven't been able to stop thinking, several times a day, about Brown.
Hero?
Terrorist?
In April of 2005, Barbara Ehrenreich wrote, for The New York Times, a review of a book by David Reynolds titled, "John Brown, Abolitionist". In the closing paragraph of her review Ehrenreich asks,
"How do we judge a man of such different times—and temperament—from our own? If the rule is that there must be some proportion between a violent act and its provocation, surely there could be no more monstrous provocation than slavery. In our own time, some may discern equivalent evils in continuing racial oppression, economic exploitation, environmental predation or widespread torture. To them, ''John Brown, Abolitionist,'' for all its wealth of detail and scrupulous attempts at balance, has a shockingly simple message: Far better to have future generations complain about your methods than condemn you for doing nothing."
So much has been written about John Brown. I wish I could write some original thought for you here. Instead I can only write that I'm haunted by his fierce blue eyes and his hymn.