AST YEAR I was blessed with an extraordinary opportunity. The Diocese of Raleigh commissioned me to arrange a new setting of At the Name of Jesus, set to the tune KING’S WESTON, for their 100th Centennial Mass at the magnificent Holy Name of Jesus Cathedral in Raleigh, North Carolina. This commission would serve as both a spiritual and musical milestone for the Diocese. The Cathedral building itself is one of the largest in the United States; a space that calls for music worthy of its soaring arches and profound liturgical purpose. Even more exciting, the Diocese had assembled a formidable musical ensemble: over 50 singers drawn from parishes across the region, supported by a 20+ piece orchestra. With such resources, the stage was set to create something truly majestic to glorify God.
* PDF Download • At the Name of Jesus (KING’S WESTON)
—Full perusal score for choir and orchestra • Arranged by Mark Haas
* Mp3 Download • Live Rec. (Diocese of Raleigh Choir and Orchestra)
—“At the Name of Jesus (KING’S WESTON)” • Arranged by Mark Haas • Conducted by Jeff Rice
Some practical considerations to arranging • As I approached the project, I had to consider the diverse makeup of the performers. The choir, though sizable, was made up largely of volunteer singers, many of whom would be learning the music in a short timeframe. The orchestra, by contrast, was filled with seasoned professionals. This contrast shaped the entire orchestration strategy: I could afford to write intricate and expressive parts for the orchestra that would frame, support, and at times propel the choir—without overwhelming them. My goal was to make the choral writing accessible and singable for parish-level musicians while surrounding them with an instrumental setting that lifted their sound and honored the grandeur of the occasion.
Concerning the orchestra specifically, certain choices were necessarily constrained by the environment. The string section, scored 3/3/3/2 (without basses) meant that extensive divisi writing was impractical. Dividing the strings would have diminished their already modest strength, preventing the sound from adequately projecting and filling the cathedral.
One of the other practical considerations in arranging the hymn was the sheer scale of the recessional procession. With cardinals, bishops, priests, deacons, seminarians, and altar servers processing out, the music needed to be extensive enough to accompany all the movement with dignity and musical interest. This provided an opportunity: I could begin the hymn with a rich orchestral introduction that would build anticipation and set the tone for the final moment of the Mass; something that I find can invite people into prayer through the unique colors that music can provide.
Some harmonic liberties • I chose to open the piece with original material—an orchestral “mini-overture” that referenced motives from KING’S WESTON while exploring new harmonic territory. This introduction was intentionally a bit mysterious, even wandering. A tasteful introduction that utilizes a unique harmonic pallet can achieve something deep into the soul (In this particular arrangement, I opted for the “crunchy” tritone substitution of DbM7 to C).
This mysteriousness within an introduction can—on some level—come to represent our earthly journey as a pilgrim Church, the ecclesia militans marching toward our heavenly homeland. “I Wonder as I Wander,” as the famous hymn title suggests. Such an introduction invites the listener into a space of reverence and expectation before the first note of the hymn is sung.
When the congregation and choir finally entered with the first verse, I kept the choral texture in unison. This is a trick I’ve learned over time—beginning with unison encourages singing. It gives everyone a strong, clear line to latch onto, especially in a cathedral setting where acoustics can challenge clarity. During this unison verse, I allowed the orchestra to become more animated—brass and winds rising in dynamic intensity, subtle flourishes pushing the energy forward. This helps “pull” the singers with confidence into the soundscape, and in many cases, the congregation responds with added vigor.
By the third verse, the choir shifts into full SATB harmony. This was the moment for the voices to shine, and so the orchestration became more transparent. Strings shifted to pizzicato, winds provided colorful accents, and the brass held back to allow the choral colors to rise to the surface. Balance is everything in liturgical music. The goal is not to impress, but to lift hearts to God.
Time for creativity • Following several verses, I inserted a musical interlude—a chance for the orchestra to speak. This interlude also served a functional purpose: it modulated the key upward by a whole step to inject a final lift for the concluding verse. The interlude also gives a few seconds of space for the choir and congregation to catch their breath.
For the interlude, I wrote new thematic material that built slowly, culminating in a triumphant orchestral crescendo. For fellow arrangers, I’d encourage creativity during such transitions. I incorporated quick runs and flourishes in the woodwinds and strings—particularly seven-tuplet eighth-note figures that cascade into downbeats. Instruments like the flute, oboe, and piccolo are quite agile and, when doubled at the octave, can create stunning effects that sparkle within a cathedral’s acoustic bloom.
For the final verse, the full choir and congregation returned to unison, but this time with a soaring descant line above. That line, sung by the sopranos—and bolstered by the tenors as well—punched through the orchestral swell with jubilant clarity. Asking tenors to double a descant may seem unconventional, but in my experience, it adds strength and energy to the line, and the men usually love the challenge!
Evangelization through orchestration • To conclude the hymn, I added a final tag: “At the name of Jesus!”—a musical punctuation that gave the choir a moment to hold that Holy Name aloft. I resolved the piece with the ever-trusty Picardy third, giving it a bright, hopeful ending. The timpani echoed out with regal I-V-I-V figures, thunderous and bold. I even added a note in the timpani part: “Play dramatically… as if Our Lord just conquered sin and death.” Most hired orchestral players are not Catholic—but music is a powerful vehicle for evangelization. Sometimes, a small comment in a score can plant a seed.
As an orchestrator, I’m always attentive to the ways music can serve as a means of evangelization. Even the visual beauty of a well-crafted score can become a quiet yet powerful nudge to the human heart, which naturally yearns for what is good, true, and beautiful. In a previous commission—writing for orchestra and choir for a bishop’s installation—I included a brief note in the brass part: “Triumphantly, as if a successor to the Apostles just walked into the room.” While a bit playful, the instruction was purposeful. It aimed to spark the musicians’ imagination and prompt reflection on the sacred weight of the moment—especially for those who may not be familiar with the deep and living tradition of the Catholic faith.
Conclusion • In the end, this project was far more than an exercise in orchestration—it was a testimony. It reminded me that even behind the notes, rests, and articulations, there is a sacred calling for those of us who compose and arrange music for the Church. We are not merely technicians or artisans; we are evangelists in our own right. Every dynamic marking, every harmonic decision, every instrumental texture can either obscure or reveal the face of Christ to someone in the pew—or even in the orchestra.
So to my fellow composers, arrangers, and orchestrators: don’t underestimate the role you play in the Church’s mission. Write with excellence. Score with love. And never be afraid to let your music speak the language of faith—for sometimes, long after the homily is forgotten, it is the music that remains in the heart.
