Readers of this blog know that for the past four years I have attended the marvelous Three Choirs Festival in England. In talking with scores of festival-goers I have come to find out that many are musicians in their own right, but that they come yearly to be inspired by the heavenly music, “the world’s finest choral music,” as the festival is billed.

A couple of days ago, I found myself tagged in a Facebook post by Rich Arenschieldt, whom I met four years ago. He’s the chair of the American Friends of the Three Choirs Festival—and I’ve seen him all four of the years I’ve been attending the Festival. Four years ago I read in a brochure that Rich attended his first Three Choirs Festival some twenty-five years ago, thought he had “died and gone to heaven” hearing the extraordinarily beautiful music, and has come back every year since.

I was surprised to learn that Rich had written a lovely new Christmas carol. “From Joseph, a Lullaby,” which you will find here.

[googleapps domain=”drive” dir=”file/d/1OpOLDEAA6Kcee9llLMbVpBivBYZLLJqv/preview” query=”” width=”640″ height=”480″ /]

Isn’t it lovely? I was especially taken with the text, which Rich wrote himself. He actually wrote this one night in 2005, but it apparently never got finished. Rich wrote: As I’m almost 60 I started to realize there were things in my life that I wanted to complete… This was one of them. Earlier this fall I began to look at the piece very intensely. I knew I had something there but I wanted something that conveyed the text and a strong musical image. For me it was an exhausting process even though the piece sounds simple.

Of course, I was curious to find out more about Rich’s background. The only thing I knew was that he lived in Houston, TX. It turns out that Rich grew up in Valley Forge, PA, and attended both an Episcopal church as well as Conestoga High School, both of which had excellent choral programs. I only recently found out that Rich is an excellent singer and has participated in Houston’s chamber choir, the symphony chorus, the Cathedral choir, and even was a staff singer at a Houston synagogue for about a decade.

Conductors have always told me that I’ve got “ping” —I’m a bit of a vocal chameleon I can match any Tenor or bass almost exactly. I’m the guy that unifies the section, even though I don’t have the most extraordinary voice.

However, he didn’t major in music, but studied finance in college. He worked for Chase in Houston as a municipal bond portfolio manager, then in healthcare. Finally he ended up in nonprofit fundraising and volunteer management.

The recording took three hours with singers from the Moores School of Music at the University of Houston and was recorded at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in Houston, Rich’s faith community. If you look carefully, Rich is singing with the choir, and is in the back row on the right side.

I’m happy to share this recording especially to all my choral conductor friends who need to add another piece to their Christmas program repertoire. It is available by contacting Rich through Facebook.

Here is the lovely text, a carol from Joseph’s perspective:

From Joseph, a Lullaby
My dear Son, so sweetly sleep,
slumber peaceful, slumber deep.
In your cradle there you lay,
if but there you could stay.
If only I could keep you warm,
safe from all the world’s harm.
To shelter you from this winter’s night,
this is my hope, a father’s right.
You come, dear Son, to this Holy place
Babe, Child, King; to give us Grace.

I shame at how you’re meager born,
breath of oxen keeps you warm.
Take my cloak to fend the chill;
slumber, silent and still.
Prince of Peace, lying there
borne of one so fair.
Though the winds may howl above,
please find shelter in our love.
You come, dear Son, to this Holy place
Babe, Child, King; to give us Grace.

Small one, you’ll not know of this night,
prophets and kings will tell of its might.
Blind are you to worldly ways,
fixed on Mary’s gaze.
Look in her eyes and there you’ll see
all that we need you to be.
But for now, sleep while you can,
My tiny boy, the World’s True Man.
You come, dear Son, to this Holy place
Babe, Child, King; to give us Grace.

© Rich Arenschieldt 2005

Rich closes by writing, “There’s another carol in my brain for next year!”