New piano solo arrangement: Amazing Grace
John Newton’s hymn is so popular that as a longtime church musician, it seems overplayed. It reminds me of dandelions. Dandelions overpopulate North American landscapes in most gardener’s opinions. Although it’s a cousin of the majestic sunflower, in suburbia lawns it’s considered a weed. They pop up in abundance and most of the time, in the wrong place.
So, there you have it. My strong opinion about the well-loved hymn with a rich back story. That’s why I’ve stayed away from arranging it for so long. There’s plenty of fine settings out there. What’s left to say with the tune?
Then, Covid-19 blanketed our souls with something deep and dark. A dear choir member asked if I would play Newton’s tune on Facebook as a pick-me-up and I said I would and I did. It wasn’t easy playing those words—amazing grace. And yet, the unexpected ask turned into one verse and then eventually morphed into a three-verse arrangement.
Back to the dandelions. Even though they are annoying to gardeners, a field of the bright yellow mini-mums is quite gorgeous. And what I find even more lovely is the puffball stage of the flower that traditionally we blow on and make a wish. Every time we blow, the fluffy globe explodes, and seeds are scattered and the lifespan of the dandelion continues.
Watch this stunning video to see the transformation in fast action.
Although the flower stage is pretty, it’s a little uninspiring compared to the second, more intricate stage of the plant. As life would have it, I contemplate things like this and try to make connections. It seems to me that grace and dandelions have a lot in common. They both appear unannounced and are free of charge. When we are not shiny and Instagram golden like the flower-stage of the dandelion and stripped to fine yet strong threads of the plant’s second stage, we are light enough to be tossed about by the wind. The seeds we sow inspire the next generation.
It was never my intention to preach with this arrangement and yet, I feel compelled in the days of isolation and unrest of 2020 to make sense of it all. The irony is not lost on me that I publish this soon after the death of George Floyd. The composer and lyricist of “Amazing Grace” is John Newton, once a slave trader and later an abolitionist of slavery.
What to come away with after all of this?
When we are at the end of our capacity to be a gorgeous flower bursting with color, when we shrink and collapse and then expand into a transparent version of ourselves, that’s when we become real. Light can shine through us to those around us, even in the darkest hours.
My arrangement leans into my contemplation. There’s no dramatic peak or “aha moment.” Instead it lives and breathes the experiences of what life is like—poignant, colorful, wretched, transparent, seemingly bottomless yet with potential to spread seeds of hope. When you play it, let it be a reminder that grace is what holds us tight through times of uncertain and even unbearable waiting and wondering for…the amazing.
Dedicated to the dear members of South Suburban Christian Church and the Chancel Choir
