Silent too long...

Like most pilgrims on the journey of spiritual disciplines, I occasionally lose my way. It's long past time to get "bach" to work here on this blog.

Thankfully, Easter is a season and not just a day, so we'll follow Lenten silence and wayward wandering with posts on several Easter cantatas later this week.

Lenten Silence

When J.S. Bach lived and worked in Leipzig, the Lenten season was strictly observed, and instrumental music was not allowed in church or home. Bach composed only one cantata for the season (BWV 80), and that was done in Weimar many years earlier. The preeminent works during Lent were the Passions, performed on Holy Week. I will be listening to the St. Matthew Passion during the entire season of Lent and posting my comments.

I have chosen the recording by Paul McCreesh and the Gabrielli Players. This has been a somewhat controversial reading of Bach, using the theory of OVPP (one voice per part). Aside from disagreements over this theory, the McCreesh recording has received rave reviews, and I am looking forward to listening closely to it.

COMPREHENSIVE CANTATA SITE

Check out the Bach Cantatas Website for a comprehensive look at these wonderful pieces of music, the Lutheran Church Year, and a wide variety of other pertinent information.

Enjoy!

FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY

The story of Jesus stilling the storm in Matthew 8.23-27 forms the background of BWV 81, "Jesus schläft, was soll ich hoffen?" (Jesus sleeps, what should be my hope?).

A tenor recitative early in the cantata makes reference to the Epiphany story and thus ties the whole season together:

Lord! why do you walk so far away?
Why do you hide yourself in the time of my distress
when everything threatens me with a lamentable end?
Ah, is your eye not moved by my distress
that at other times is never accustomed to sleep?
You showed with a star
once to the newly converted wise men
the right way to travel.
Ah guide me by the light of your eyes
since this way promises nothing but danger.

He who guided the magi by the star, he who spoke the word and calmed the tempest, is the Light who will guide in all our dark times. The final word of the season is, "Jesus stands by me."

THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY

This week, I am officiating or participating in four funeral services. This is nearly overwhelming, and my spirit is feeling the strain of looking mortality and grief in the face day after day. Bach's cantata for the third Sunday after Epiphany, BWV 156, "Ich steh mit einem Fuß im Grabe" (I am standing with one foot in the grave) is a godsend on a week like this.

I am standing with one foot in the grave
Do with me, God, according to your goodness,
Soon my ailing body will fall in,
help me in my sorrow,
come, dear God, if it please you,
what I request, do not deny me.
I have already set my house in order,
When my soul must depart,
take it, Lord, in your hands.
Only let my end be happy!
Everything is good, when the end is good.

This poignant appeal for God to care for one facing his earthly demise reminds us all that our lives are in his hands. Every heartbeat, every breath is a divine gift. Unless the Lord returns in our lifetime, we will all walk through the door of death someday. "Everything is good, when the end is good."

May God bless every ending and every new beginning in our lives.

SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY

One of Bach's cantatas for this Sunday is BWV 3: "Ach Gott, wie manches Herzeleid" (Ah God, how many a heartache).

Ah God, how many a heartache
I meet with in this time!
The narrow way is full of affliction
by which I must travel to heaven.

Each piece after this introductory chorus is like a short Biblical psalm, which moves from lament to praise, from trouble to triumph, from distress to rest in God's salvation and endless love, revealed in Jesus. For example, the bass aria:

Although I may feel hell's anguish and pain,
yet always in my heart
there must be a true heavenly joy.
If I may only mention Jesus' name,
that can pierce even through immeasurable sorrows
as if they were a light mist.

Likewise, the splendid soprano/alto duet aria:

When cares press upon me,
I want in joy
to sing to my Jesus.
Jesus helps to bear my cross,
therefore I want to say in faith:
it is always for the best.

The Gospel lesson for the day is the story of Jesus turning water to wine (John 2.1-11). As our Lord turned the tasteless water in stone pots into the best of wine so that those attending the wedding might be blessed with joy, even so he can transform the difficult passages of our earthly journey into times when we can experience "the fellowship of His sufferings" (Philippians 3.10).

Like the Bible, Bach forces us to be realistic about life and its troubles. He and the psalmists encourage us to have the conversations with God that can ultimately help us find a way to praise him.

"In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world" (John 16:33).

FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY

In many Christian communities today, the first Sunday after the Epiphany is when we remember Jesus' baptism. The readings in the traditional lectionary, however, point to the story of the young man Jesus in the temple (Luke 2.41-52). This account reflects the third of Mary's Seven Sorrows, a traditional devotion that recalled seven grievous episodes in Mary's relationship with Jesus.

Bach's cantatas for this Sunday are meditations on this Scripture. BWV 154 begins with a poignant cry, "Mein liebster Jesus ist verloren" (My dearest Jesus is lost!). Any parent who has felt the sudden panic of having a child disappear from sight can relate to this rush of emotion. The words take us beyond these tender human bonds, however, into the spiritual angst of feeling that one has lost contact with God.

My dearest Jesus is lost:
Oh word that brings me despair!
Oh sword that pierces through my soul,
Oh thunderous word in my ears.

After a lovely chorale describing what Jesus means to the faithful and the deep longing for his presence to fill their hearts, the alto lifts up an aria, pleading with Jesus to appear once more.

Jesus, let me fnd you,
do not allow my sins
to be thick clouds
where to my horror
you will be hidden from me.
Appear again soon!

In the depths of winter, dark days and chill winds can mirror the gloom of spirits trudging through life without a sense of Christ's presence. Bach seeks to rouse us, to make us feel the urgency of Jesus' earthly parents, to leave our plodding caravans and call out for him until he answers and comes home with us again.