Showtime, for the 5,000th time, with the Tabernacle Choir

“Music & the Spoken Word,” a show broadcast each week from Salt Lake City, not only has endured since 1929, but almost as remarkably, has barely changed. There’s the announcer’s gentle welcome, a three-minute inspirational message and a handful of hymns performed by The Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square, formerly and still better known as the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

The program’s nearly century-old, 30-minute “recipe,” as its organizers call it, seems to need no modifications to draw a crowd. On July 13, more than 11,000 people gathered in the cavernous Conference Center owned by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to record the program’s 5,000th episode.

The show “has always been a part of my life,” said Ron Christensen, 71, who sat near the front with his wife. “I used to take dates here.” His mother, Lela Christensen, 98, who sang in the choir from 1964 to ’87 (with some breaks for having children), was being honored as the choir’s oldest living alum.

The number “5,000” alone may not capture the scale of the longevity of the show, which has aired every week since almost the beginning of commercial radio. “Saturday Night Live,” which celebrated its 50th anniversary with a lavish prime-time special this year, has not yet hit 1,000 episodes. “The Simpsons,” America’s longest-running sitcom, has produced a piddling 790.

What started as a live, local broadcast, captured by the organist’s son standing on a ladder and holding a microphone toward the choir, now airs on more than 2,000 radio and television stations around the world. Newer ventures include a Spanish-language version and a behind-the-scenes podcast.

“We view the choir as a global asset of the church,” said Mike Leavitt, a former governor of Utah who became the choir’s president in 2021. As the church’s membership stalls in the United States but expands internationally, Leavitt has moved to grow the choir’s digital audience and global reach, in part by increasing the pace of international touring.

The show has been sponsored from the start by the church, which views it as a ministry rather than a moneymaker. Most people involved in production, including the host and the choir’s members, are volunteers.

“It’s the public jewel of the church,” said general authority Seventy Matthew S. Holland, the ecclesiastical leader of the church’s communications department. “This is the front end of a decade where we hope the world will discover who we really are.”

The church’s relatively brief history includes early periods of violent persecution, and suspicions and stereotypes about the group persist. When Mitt Romney, a member of the church, was first seeking the Republican nomination for president, one survey in 2007 found that just over half of Americans had a favorable opinion of Latter-day Saints, the same rate as for Muslims and more than 20 points lower than for Jews and Catholics.

The decade ahead includes several major events that the church sees as opportunities to reintroduce their faith. The temple in Salt Lake City will reopen in 2027 after years of major renovations. Then, in 2030, the church will celebrate its bicentennial, and four years later, Salt Lake City will host its second Winter Olympics, with the church as an unofficial backdrop to the Games.

But first, a celebration of a program whose tight harmonies and relentless positivity have been a mainstay in Latter-day Saint households for generations.

For many fans, there is something ineffably moving about hearing 360 sopranos, altos, tenors, baritones and basses blend their voices. Women stand stage right in matching dresses, which were sewn in-house until recently; men are stage left in suits and matching ties. They are instructed to smile, a challenge for choral singers who generally aim to produce “tall” vowels, enunciating “bird” as “buhd,” for example.

Singing here has been a goal since childhood for many members. Preston Tenney, 39, grew up listening to the choir in the small town of Taylor, Arizona, which has a strong Latter-day Saint presence and musical culture.

When the choir added an orchestra in 1999, the new sound electrified Tenney. “At that moment I was like, I think I want to do this when I get older,” he said.

Now a school psychologist who lives in Lehi, Tenney is in his 11th year as a baritone. He met his wife, Rachel, in the choir, and has sung in the Philippines, Germany and Carnegie Hall. The choir supported the couple when Rachel Tenney was diagnosed with breast cancer 2 1/2 years into their marriage, and gave her a standing ovation when she returned from medical leave.

“The best part was Mack paused, and he let it happen,” Tenney recalled, referring to the choir’s longtime music director, Mack Wilberg. “Mack never lets anything interrupt rehearsal.”

The choir’s standards are high, beginning with a nine-month audition process that includes a written test of musical skills. Members must live within 100 miles of Salt Lake City, and be a Latter-day Saint in good standing with the church. They must retire after 20 years or at age 60, whichever comes first. Up to 300 people apply each year for around 50 spots.

Between television, radio and streaming, “Music & the Spoken Word” now claims 5 million listeners weekly. Though the show is a niche interest in most places, fans around Salt Lake City recognize Wilberg in public. Even some who drifted from the church years ago can repeat the program’s opening lines: “From the Crossroads of the West, we welcome you to Temple Square in Salt Lake City. …”

Founded in 1847, the choir became integral to the church’s reputation in the late 19th century when Latter-day Saint leaders formally rejected the practice of plural marriage. The singers’ scrubbed-clean appearance and accessible repertoire became proof that Latter-day Saints belonged squarely in the American mainstream, according to Jake Johnson, a historian at Oklahoma City University who has written about the role of music in the church.

Choral singing in particular suggests that “‘I can be like you because I can blend into harmony with you,’” Johnson said. “It’s this enormous metaphor for belonging in America.”

These days, it also sets Latter-day Saints apart from many Protestants. In large evangelical churches, choirs have often been replaced by smaller “worship teams” who perform contemporary music with Christian lyrics on sound systems that overpower congregants who dare to join in.

Derrick Porter, who became the show’s fourth host last year, likes to point out that he has so far participated in about 1% of the show’s history.

“Even as the world has changed, the purpose of the broadcast remains the same,” Porter said in a video presentation introducing the program at the 5,000th episode celebration. “Thirty minutes of peace, broadcast freely to the world.”

The choir sang fan favorites like “Consider the Lilies,” whose lyrics about “the sweet, tender children who must suffer on this Earth” had many audience members dabbing away tears. Hundreds of the choir’s alumni were then invited onstage for the last few songs, including its signature “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” Some linked arms and leaned on each other as they sang. And, of course, they smiled.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.