Maoz Tzur (Rock of Ages)
Sufjan Stevens’ music defies categorization. He’s not just an indie artist. He’s not just an acoustic artist, or a classical composer, or a noise artist, or a psychedelic artist. No two successive albums really share the same genre, and often two consecutive tracks within the same album could not be more different.
The same holds for Stevens’ Christmas catalog, which spans from earnest renditions of familiar carols to joyful interpretations of secular holiday songs to, well, “Christmas Unicorn.” This is why I have a Spotify playlist called “Sufjan Christmas for Others,” because if you’re not familiar with Sufjan, you’re certainly not expecting “Do You Hear What I Hear” to do what it does. Sure we all love Sufjan, but we aren’t your average holiday music listener.
But Sufjan contains multitudes, and he can follow “I Am Santa’s Helper,” with an earnest piano instrumental of “Ma’oz Tzur (Rock of Ages).”
I am not qualified to write about the meaning behind “Ma’oz Tzur.” In fact, before this assignment, I only knew it as a palate cleanser between the heavier stuff. It’s a pleasant, 42-second interlude, the kind of solo piano piece you might hear at a child’s second-year recital.
I thought the parenthetical “Rock of Ages” meant that this was an arrangement of the Christian hymn I recall from my Methodist youth. It’s not. “Ma’oz Tzur” is a Hanukkah hymn; a history and celebration of God‘s delivering the Jewish people from their enemies. It’s lovely, with more depth than the same secular Christmas songs that have been mainstays on the airwaves for 60 years. Not that there’s anything wrong with them, of course, but “Ma’oz Tzur” has a way of centering the listener.
Sufjan’s version of “Ma’oz Tzur” caused me to seek out the story and to find renditions by Leslie Odom, Jr. and his wife Nicolette Robinson, and the Maccabeats.
I’m unsure if I’d ever heard the word “twee” before I became a fan of Sufjan Stevens, and then I saw it everywhere in reviews. Its usage implies some sort of dishonesty as if Stevens were sweet for the sake of silliness, as if he were just playing a character. I don’t buy it. Beneath the wings and behind the banjo, there is sincerity. What confidence it must take to put “Ma’oz Tzur” on the same disc as “Mr. Frosty Man”!
No, “Ma’oz Tzur” is not a track that I return to very often. It didn’t make my Post-Mariah Holiday playlist. But I’m glad it’s here, and the next time it comes up, I’ll appreciate it just a bit more.
Turner Walston is a former sportswriter now working as an insurance agent. You may follow him on Twitter @TurnerWalston, though he’s currently on a Twitter hiatus.