Max Boyce Notebook
Some months ago, I heard a request on our local radio station for a song by Max Boyce [pictured above]. The song played was familiar to me but not so the performer. I had never heard of him before and, no doubt, that says more about me than him.
In any case, I liked what I heard and found myself wanting to hear more of his music. I listened to various recordings and came to realise that Max Boyce is as much comedian as he is singer. His humour has its roots in Welsh Rugby, and I imagine the bulk of his audience comes from the rugby world. Not a soft crowd, by any stretch of the imagination!
I enjoyed what I heard and occasionally there would be a song or a ballad thrown in and they were welcome too.
Spectacular
Then I heard a song introduced and I was intrigued. He spoke about the Welsh rugby fans and how renowned they are for their singing. Male voice choirs are the order of the day and the sound produced is spectacular. Boyce acknowledges this and speaks of the pride that exists in this trait of the Welsh rugby fan.
He goes on to make the point that he wonders how God might feel about this. The origins of the male voice choir are surely found in church and the skills developed there were primarily to give glory to God at Sunday worship. He develops the point.
He says that when he was leaving Cardiff Rugby Grounds, he was saddened to see an old church, all boarded up with broken windows and a pad-locked door. Even sadder, was the sign outside that said the building was ‘For Sale’.
He wondered how God would feel about this and remembered a moment from the game when the referee was perceived to make a mistake and the fans invoked Jesus’ name; not in worship but in condemnation of the decision reached. It was the only time Christ’s name was mentioned and Boyce titled his song Ten Thousand Instant Christians.
Old hymns
It truly is a soul-searching song and, in it, he touches on key issues. He speaks of the male voice choir singing lyrics of old hymns that are only “half remembered” and he speaks of Sunday becoming Saturday and that worship is done on pitch and in stands rather than in church. He wonders how God will react to the old church, shuttered with its “dusty Bible” and “cob-webbed covered floors” and he references a church that is now a bingo hall.
When I checked the name of the church, I found a reference that said it was once one of the biggest and best attended churches in Wales but its congregation dwindled to single numbers before it was closed and sold, only to be re-opened and developed as a bingo hall.
The song finishes to great applause but there is no laughter – as is heard in response to most of his pieces. In fairness, there shouldn’t be. It’s a sobering song that calls on all of us to reflect on where our church is heading. I was struck by the courage of Max Boyce to introduce this song to his performance. People expected him to be funny, upbeat and entertaining and here, he seems to offer a challenge to his audience, perhaps even to himself and, as I listened, to me!
What are we doing to stop the numbers becoming, as he puts it, “fewer now each day”? It’s such a challenge – at times overwhelming but a challenge, nonetheless.
Any thoughts?
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Telling the Rosary
I wrote here one time about Dick Farrelly’s song The Isle of Innisfree and the line in the song that speaks of a family on bended knee where “their Rosary is told”. I was struck by the word ‘told’ and wrote a bit about that.
Since then, I’ve thought some more about this and the thinking is soon to be published by Messenger Publications in a booklet entitled Telling The Rosary. It should be available in the coming weeks and perhaps you’d consider keeping an eye out for it. In it, I try to look at the story being told through the four sets of mysteries and to offer a few prayer suggestions to accompany them.
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JOURNEY BEGUN:
I noticed during the week that 15 men have begun studies for the priesthood. Though the number might be small, behind that number lies 15 people willing to explore the possibility that they are called to priesthood. Where the road takes them is another story, but our joy must lie in the fact they have taken the first step.
Remember them in prayer.