(Blogging today as travelling tomorrow. Happy Easter, you lot.)
I was in church today, and, naturally, it being Easter, we got to sing Ralph Vaughan Williams' immortal classic "Salve festa dies." Or, I got to sing three quarters of it.
There are eight verses, of which the last two are pretty excellent. The whole thing is a carefully considered and crafted piece of art, and it is imperative, for the full effect, to sing the whole thing.
We sang six verses. This was because, apparently, they had failed to plan the procession properly, so that it would fill out the whole hymn. This is elementary ecclesiastical logistics, and completely unforgivable to screw up.
And when you've planned your procession badly, it compounds the offense when you are too lazy even to sing the whole hymn. It is an offense against care, against aesthetics, and, worst of all, an offense against R.V.W. himself. Shame!