New Year, Ancient Praise

Àwá yìn ọ́, Ọlọ́run (Te Deum Laudamus)

Crossover Services

There is an Anglican tradition in Nigeria that I miss: the celebration of the advent of the New Year, where we go to church to worship God, praising and thanking Him for the past year and ushering in the New Year in prayer and the worship of the Almighty God.

Nowadays, this is called a crossover service, sometimes with a kind of pompous religiosity that suggests we have decided to spend time in church rather than in drunken revelry at a bar. Though where I have not been able to attend church, I would rather stay at home and celebrate with my partner or with friends whilst watching the world ring in the New Year.

A Multicultural Feast

However, recently, I have found that some multinational evangelical or Pentecostal churches do celebrate this crossover phenomenon. I did find one nearby that had a feast of multicultural cuisine before we settled down to a sermon, then praise and worship. I am quite comfortable in those settings.

For this New Year's celebration, I decided to attend the !Audacious Church ticketed event, for which one has to move promptly before the tickets are sold out. It was going to be a standing-only event, but seats were provided for those who needed that kind of respite.

!Audacious has a very youthful attendance; I could easily be in the cohort of the elderly with grandchildren rather than just being a parent, but I do love the energy in small amounts.

A Foretaste of Heaven

As we sang praises, many with the word 'Holy', I was caught up in the awesomeness of how this could be playing in heaven: angels, archangels, and all creation worshipping the Father, the Lord God Almighty; the Lamb upon the throne, Jesus Christ; and the Holy Spirit.

I imagined the language in heaven would probably not be English but one which, to our hearing, would fill us with indescribable wonder and awe beyond anything a human mind could ever fathom. Just for that alone, I'll rather go to heaven than anywhere else.

Even in a heavenly crowd of a thousand generations, lost somewhere in the mix of the glory that is beyond the realm of comprehension, it can only be the best place to be. I am thankful for the foretaste we have been given on earth.

Te Deum Laudamus

Then, back to the Anglican traditions I referred to earlier, modernity has changed many of the things we used to do, like chanting or singing the canticles. As the clock strikes midnight at church, we sing the Te Deum Laudamus (We praise thee, O God) in Yoruba.

Maybe it is my engineering brain or something, but the Yoruba language is a tonal language with pitches of acute, grave, and mid tones, mostly represented on the vowels.

I cannot elucidate on the mechanics of representation to the extent of a linguist, but I did learn and master the application of diacritical marks (accents, tone marks, and under dots). As far as I am concerned, they are critical to the understanding and comprehension of Yoruba when written and read.

AI and Linguistic Precision

However, all the versions I found online did not have this essential distinction, so in the age of AI, I asked three different AI bots (Google's Gemini-3-Pro, then Anthropic's Claude-Opus-4.1) to attempt to annotate the text. The last one (OpenAI's GPT-5.2) even engaged me fully in Yoruba, and that was impressive.

The result was good enough, but I had to review the full text against the English version to ensure everything was correct to the best of my knowledge of Yoruba. Then, usually, accents are not put on the consonant N, but the reality is that in speech, for certain words, when N is followed by another consonant, it is prudent to get the right tone.

Finally, the last line of the Yoruba version in the prayer section of the canticles can take many translations and interpretations, but it is the most effective in Yoruba: "Láí, má jẹ́ kí n dààmú." To me, it reads, in context, as: O Lord, I trust in You; let me never be bothered by anything, because You are with me.

I wish you all a Happy New Year!

Te Deum Laudamus
Yoruba	English
Iyín Mẹ́talọ̀kan	Praise to the Trinity
Àwá yìn ọ́, Ọlọ́run, Àwá ń jẹ́wọ́ Rẹ pé ìwọ ni Oluwa, Gbogbo aiyé fi orí balẹ̀ fún ọ, Bàbá aiyé títí láí. Ìwọ ni ẹni tí gbogbo àwọn Angẹ́lì, ń kí gbé pè, Ọ̀run àti gbogbo agbára, tí ń bẹ nínú wọn. Ìwọ ni ẹni tí àwọn Kérúbù àti àwọn Séráfù, Kígbe pé ní gbà gbogbo pé: Mímọ́ Mímọ́ Mímọ́, Olúwa Ọlọ́run àwọn ọmọ ogun, Ọ̀run òun ayé, Kún fún ògo ńlá tí ò gọ Rẹ. Ẹgbẹ́ àwọn Apóstélì, Tí ó lógo yìn ọ́, Ọgbà àwọn Wòlíì, Tí ó dára, yìn ọ́, Ogun àwọn Mátírì, tí ó dára yìn Ọ́., Ìjọ Mímọ́ ènìyàn Ọlọ́run Ní gbogbo ayé ńjẹ́wọ́ Rẹ: Baba ẹni ọlá ńlá, tí kò ní pẹ̀kun; Àti Ọmọ Rẹ nìkan ṣoṣo, Olólá, Olótìítọ́. Ẹ̀mí Mímọ́ pẹ̀lú, Olùtùnú ni.	We praise thee, O God: We acknowledge Thee to be the Lord. All the earth doth worship Thee, the Father everlasting. To Thee all Angels cry aloud: the Heavens and all the powers therein. To Thee Cherubim and Seraphim continually do cry, Holy, Holy, Holy: Lord God of Sabaoth; Heaven and earth are full of the Majesty of Thy Glory. The glorious company of the Apostles praise Thee. The godly fellowship of the Prophets praise Thee. The noble army of Martyrs praise Thee. The holy Church throughout all the world doth acknowledge Thee; The Father of an infinite Majesty; Thine honourable, true, and only Son; Also the Holy Ghost: the Comforter.
Iyín Kírístì	Praise of Christ
Kírístì, Ìwọ ni Ọba Ògo, Ìwọ ni Ọmọ láílái ti Baba. Nígbà tí Ìwọ tẹ́wọ́gbà fún ara Rẹ láti gba ènìyàn là, O kò kórìíra inú Wúndíá. Nígbà tí O ṣẹ́gun oró ikú tán, O ṣí ìjọba ọ̀run sílẹ̀ fún gbogbo Àwọn onígbàgbọ́. O jókòó ní ọwọ́ ọ̀tún Ọlọ́run, Nínú ògo ti Baba. Àwa gbàgbọ́ pé O ńbọ̀ wá Láti ṣe Onídàájọ́ wa. Nítorí náà ni àwa ṣe ńgbàdúrà, Sí ọ̀dọ̀ Rẹ: Ran àwọn ọmọ ọ̀dọ̀ Rẹ lọ́wọ́, Tí Ìwọ ti fi ẹ̀jẹ̀ Rẹ, iyebíye rà padà. Ṣe wọ́n kí a lè kà wọ́n kún àwọn ènìyàn Mímọ́ Rẹ Nínú ògo tí kò ní pẹ̀kun.	Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ. Thou art the everlasting Son of the Father. When Thou tookest upon Thee to deliver man: Thou didst not abhor the Virgin's womb. When Thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death, Thou didst open the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers. Thou sittest at the right hand of God in the glory of the Father. We believe that Thou shalt come to be our Judge. We therefore pray Thee, help Thy servants whom Thou hast redeemed with Thy precious blood. Make them to be numbered with Thy Saints in glory everlasting.
Àwọn àdúrà	Prayers
Olúwa, gba àwọn ènìyàn Rẹ là, Kí Ìwọ kí ó sì fi ìbùkún fún àwọn ènìyàn ìní Rẹ. Jọba wọn, Kí O sì máa gbé wọn lékè láíláí. Àwa ńgbé Ọ ga, ní ojojúmọ́; Àwa sì ńfi orí balẹ̀ ní, Orúkọ Rẹ Títí ayé tí kò ní pẹ̀kun. Fìyèsíni, Olúwa, Láti pa wá mọ́ lónìí ní àìlẹ́ṣẹ̀. Olúwa, ṣàánú fún wa, ṣàánú fún wa. Olúwa, jẹ́ kí àánú Rẹ kí ó máa bà lé wa,  Gẹ́gẹ́ bí àwa ti ńgbẹ́kẹ̀ wa lé Ọ. Olúwa, Ìwọ ni mo gbẹ́kẹ̀lé, Láí, má jẹ́ kí n dààmú.	O Lord, save Thy people: And bless Thine heritage. Govern them and lift them up for ever. Day by day we magnify Thee; And we worship Thy Name, ever world without end. Vouchsafe, O Lord, to keep us this day without sin. O Lord, have mercy upon us. O Lord, let Thy mercy lighten upon us: as our trust is in Thee. O Lord, in Thee have I trusted: Let me never be confounded.

References

Te Deum Laudamus - Awa Yin O, Olorun | Yoruba Chant with Lyrics – Source text

Andrews University: English Text of the Te Deum

Wikipedia: Te Deum

Church of England: Te Deum Laudamus – Modern

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

For church and normalcy

On an easel in the cathedral.

Back to church indeed

Church, a place for Sunday or maybe a Sunday place to meet, whichever way you look at it, this Sunday was not one where I had decided I would be out of bed and ready for joining a congregation some 20 minutes’ walk from home for the Sung Eucharist, but against expectations I did.

One of the shifts about not needing to plan for this was we have moved to a post-pandemic stage of not having to register on the Eventbrite app to attend. The church had returned or assumed a new normalcy and having not attended service for a while because of other engagements as extended rest or being out of town, I was in for a surprise.

The changes I noticed

At the processional hymn, the procession had the clergy as usual and the full choir, not just a cantor and supporters, before then, the Dean came for a general chat to the congregation pointing us to events and programmes in the church week and a particular insert in the service pamphlet before announcing the banns of marriage for two couples. I have not heard the banns for years; surely young congregants are getting married somewhere.

During the service, the laity took the readings of the Word from the pulpit apart from the Gospel that includes ceremony and address attended to by the clergy. Even if I got more involved in church activities, I doubt I would readily take the offer to do a reading from the Bible. I dread the amplification of my voice; it sounds alien to me that I have shied from microphones. If I cannot project my voice naturally to a listening audience in a smallish place, I won’t be straining it in a hall. A public speaker, I am not.

Of things not imagined

For Communion, rather than the warden doing the ushering as has been the case for most of the last two years, we have two ladies from the congregation helping for order and at the end of the service, we gathered for teas and coffee, indoors where we socially interacted with other congregants. The only vestige of the pandemic left was a majority wore face masks during the service.

Whilst I have attended church a few times since July, this year marked the 600^th Anniversary Celebration of the Collegiate Church and Queen Elizabeth II came to visit the church on the 8^th of July on one of her first major outings since Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh passed on. I was not present as I learnt of the event after the fact, but the plaque she unveiled as on display and now the whole church was open to visit including all the chapels within the main cathedral and so there was much to display and see. [Manchester Cathedral: Her Majesty’s visit to Manchester Cathedral]

Lest I forget, the processional hymn did not end in a crescendo but in the almost quiet of the context of the words we sang, for in these troubled pandemic times, nothing could be more comforting than this:

Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
O still small voice of calm!
[The New English Hymnal NEH 353 Dear Lord and Father of mankind]

Palm Sunday: Clean hands are of the conscience

Common service in the church

Probably something I have not taken due notice of before, on Sunday mornings, I will usually wake up to a live church service on BBC Radio 4, the ones from the Church of England, I am more attuned to. The time did Spring Forward to British Summer Time, though it was more like British Raining Time, this morning.

However, today, Palm Sunday, I recall that when the readings came up in church, it was like a déjà vu moment, I very remembered I had heard it before, recently too. At church, with the new normal of no congregational singing, a cantor doing most of the musical stuff in front of the congregation or in the choir, much of what we do is sitting down apart during the greeting and certain congregational recitations.

The gospel in song

The children without a Sunday School with preoccupied and distracted by toys, puzzles, or their colouring books. The gospel was first read to announce the triumphal entry of the Lord into Jerusalem on the ass of a colt the second gospel was of the Passion, the first 54 verses of 66, of the 27^th chapter in the Gospel according to St Matthew, sung by the cantor and a laudable feat at the best of times. [Bible Gateway: Matthew 27:1-54 (NRSVA)]

As I have been listening to books on Audible rather than reading them on Kindle, there was a sense of how the words we heard seems to take on life as you read the words being sung to our hearing. I could not help but see the level of human wickedness that greeted the desire for the chief priests of that day to get rid of Jesus Christ.

A window on religious wickedness

When Judas Iscariot realised what his betrayal of Jesus Christ would lead to, he went to return the 30 pieces of silver the chief priests and elders gave him for his dastardly deed and they indifferently said, “What is that to us?”, on picking up the money he threw down in the temple, they deliberated amongst themselves agreeing it was “the price of blood”, bought a piece of land with it, not for anything but the burial of strangers to whom they will have no duty, obligation, or responsibility and called it the field of blood.

They agitated the crowd to prefer a murderer and thief over Jesus Christ and even Pontius Pilate when he made to wash his hands off the matter, recognised that they were against Jesus out of envy. Just the thought that someone bringing succour, healing and peace to their people making them somewhat irrelevant as they could never rise to minister to those needs was their all-consuming passion to destroy Jesus, he had to be killed.

Culpable in every way

I could not entirely absolve Pontius Pilate, his wife warned him not to have anything to do with Jesus, he had the power and authority to set Jesus free, much as whatever the decision he took would determine the fate of Jesus Christ in that place.

Out of fear for his position and hoping to avoid an insurrection, all acts of self-preservation of status and person, he delivered Jesus to them and the ritual of crucifixion started with scourging and mockery, the act of capital punishment will also be carried out by those under his command, just as he decided to place a notice at the head of the cross declaring Jesus, the kind of the Jews.

It all made for sombre reflection; the Holy Week has begun. In these pandemic times, as we sanitise our hands to prevent disease and contamination, Pontius Pilate would never have been able to wash his hands clean of the matter that underpins the force of Christianity, the cross and the consequent resurrection of Jesus Christ. Clean hands are first of the conscience and the decisions we make long before symbolically washing them in a bowl of water would mean anything.

In Paris: Such Raw Talent

This was different

Now, I have seen many buskers in stations with varying degrees of musicality from the ability to sing to amazing dexterity and talent with musical instruments.

The strains and strumming have rarely moved me to listen, stop and spectate; I do not have that sense of curiosity and distraction when I have other purpose until last night.

This was really different

As I made for my train to the Parisian suburbs just on the platform ahead of me the voice came with angelic resonance singing A Natural Woman (Aretha Franklin) to backing music on an amplifier.

We all stopped and gathered round for this unusual session of entertainment to which we all applauded without respite.

Then she did Killing Me Softly (Roberta Flack), I Want to Know What Love Is (Foreigner), Sitting on the Dock of the Bay (Otis Redding) and Human Nature (Michael Jackson).

Who discovers talent?

It made you wonder why such talent wasn't filling concert halls, night after night. However, the appreciation was generous as we all seemed to chip in a coin, a note and more applause.

She made the boring but bustling platforms of Châtelet des Halles lively with the nostalgic sound of really good music.

As I boarded my train, I could only wish the lady the very best and I thought, where does such raw talent go to be really appreciated?

Whitney Houston

Their enduring music

I would not consider myself a critic of any sort when it comes to artistes and their musicality but amazing superlatives cannot be exhausted on a number of singers and performers who have walked in the sands of our times and have so suddenly become part of the edifice of history.

Beyond classical music, my tastes are not overly eclectic; I have listened to many but bought only a few like Luther Vandross, Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston. They, in my view had such a quality of ability and talent that just touched the soul when they gave voice to anything.

I got to see Michael Jackson in 1992 at Wembley Station when he was at the height of his performing genius, it is a memory that 20 years on is still as fresh as if I have just left the concert.

I was in Berlin the night news came in that Michael Jackson had died and we now know that for all the wealth and talent he had one thing he was unable to get enough or any of was sleep. He purchased every means to get sleep and the negligence of his supposedly trusted physician administering drugs in the absolutely wrong environment and with the necessary expertise lead to his death.

And now Whitney

Whitney Houston had a voice that just was angelic, nothing sounded like it before and for all the similarities and imitations I have heard, this was one person whose fraction of expression in terms of her possibilities and ability left many in her wake.

What I loved about her singing was the control she exercised over her voice with that usually quavering lower jaw, she was closest to humanly divine.

I am saddened that even if her death were not directly related to the troubles we have been regaled with in the media, the reason for substance abuse is probably a desperate quest for happiness.

Rarely for sale

Like Michael Jackson before her, she probably expended her wealth and resources in the search for that elusive goal of happiness, a commodity that is rarely on sale regardless how one can attempt to create the environment to foster it.

The many things we attempt to purchase to fulfill our lives like sleep, happiness, love or health are never on the shelves, they are to be found in our hearts, in our souls with the peace and contentment that allows us to enjoy those things.

The shortcuts to getting these things are almost always fatal, if not suddenly there is chronic sense to it, you can only wonder if when she sang the greatest love of all she was trying hard to affirm an absence within herself.

Where do broken lives go?

In the quest for these essential elements of a good life you find yourself asking in a paraphrase of one of her other hit songs. Where do broken lives go? Do they find the rest, the joy and the love they have always sought, within themselves, with others or in things that cause them great harm.

In the end, they like us have the same desires and troubles, where some of us might have resigned ourselves to our fates or adjusted to the circumstances we were in, they probably thought with the means at their disposal they had a greater chance – a chance that for some became a chance too far.

However, one must not take away from the fact that this was a woman of exceptional talent whose expression and achievement will hug the record books for long but more importantly, I have been blessed to appreciate what she had to offer in music, singing and life.

I end with the tweet I posted when I learnt of Whitney Houston’s passing.

Whitney Houston - I hope your broken heart has found its way home. Rest in peace. Angelic voice. http://is.gd/mV8RhT

May God rest your once troubled soul.

The Joy of Living

People who gave selflessly

There might be people who no more want to be associated with an event which happened some 20 years ago, but the fact is that time represented a confidence to stand up and be counted amongst the few who really could do something about a situation that affected Africans.

When the pictures of human misery from Ethiopia filled our screens in 1984/85, musicians in the West came together first with Do They Know Its Christmas and later with We Are the World.

United Artistes for Africa

A group of talented Christians with artistic endowment came together in Nigeria, in what became the United Artistes for Africa, which is quite different from a broader group with the same name that came together much later on.

They produced an album and received extensive television coverage sending their clear, deep and strong Christian message to the public raising compassionate response to the plight of the Ethiopians.

As my memory serves me, I remember so many words of the theme song and have been at pains to obtain the full lyric set.

Chorus:

The joy of living

Is giving the best you got

From the bottom of the deepest part
Of your heart

Somewhere
Right in the corner of the street

There are so many

Who have nothing to eat

Situation, so hard to bear

With love and true compassion

We got to show them that we care

That all the world might know

Heaven's salvation untold

{Where memory fails me - missing bits}

Make our love light shine
I know that we are ready
We are ready, to lay it on the line

Ahhhh!

Chorus:

We are NOT the World

The words of this song were a lot easier to listen to and understand and did not flout common knowledge when it veered into the religious.

This was one of the many fundamental problems and interpretations with We Are the World. For devout Christians, "The World" signifies a system that is antagonistic to anything related to God.

The line - As God as shown us by turning stones to bread - was blasphemy of the highest order that should have brought out activists in their millions, but they would have been condemned to being without feeling on a project that was supposed to feed the hungry.

God never ever turned stones to bread, Jesus was tempted by the devil to turn stones to bread after a 40 day fast and He replied with the much quoted - Man shall not live by bread alone.

For some, it was like the devil had hijacked a project that brought people together in compassionate response to a serious human crisis.

Giving you the best

This is why The Joy of Living had more resonance with the Christians I knew than We are the World, regardless of the stars that featured.

However, there were stars the line-up of United Artistes for Africa, people who exuded talent that made one wonder at God's creation and people who allow the genius in their beings to flow.

Notable were Soji Bewaji and Bayo Akinsiku; they were both artists in training at polytechnic and somehow, even though I was studying Electrical Engineering, I got amongst a crowd of "impressionists", divided between a wave of Rastafarian inclination and deep Christian affirmation.

I happened to make more friends amongst the latter and they especially Bayo brought me into the realisation of new Christian revelation.

Men of honour, men of great talent

Soji, had the voice, which might at one time have been modelled on Michael Jackson, but developed into something more edifying and full of power of ministry.

When he sang in worship you were caught in two places, the awesome wonder of a sonorous voice in praise of the Almighty God and the almost envy of the fact that you could only croak.

However, he has not departed from his vocation as an inspired and gifted artist who no doubt is a whirlwind of ingenious ideas to his clients and people at large.

Bayo, produced artistic work that was just inspired beyond natural discernment, I saw some of his project work and I was blown away, completely, it was out of this world. That he earned distinctions in college would not have come as a surprise, cynics could not but be effusive with praise.

This was a case where the talent was just there, in your face and if you found flaw it would be in your ability to appreciate not in the work at all. It is no wonder that he is lauded as one of Britain's best painters.[1]

Worthy of commemoration

However, these men participated in the Joy of Giving 20 years ago and are still in the business of giving of themselves in talent, inspiration, knowledge and encouragement that lifts others up to want to be givers too.

So, in the Twentieth year anniversary of that grand and inspired project I commend to you the original United Artistes of Africa who sang for Ethiopia -

God bless your grain

With the latter rain

More so, the individuals, the men and women of God who stood up to be counted when there were mouths to be fed.

Congratulations!