Visit our dwellings, O Lord, and drive from them all the snares of the enemy
—Prayer for Compline
The chant now known to the English reader as the hymn “Before the Ending of the Day” (LSB 889) probably originated between the late fifth and seventh centuries. In liturgies ancient and modern it is generally prescribed as the office hymn for Compline, especially during the Trinity season. Not unlike the later Lutheran practice of assigning a hymn of the day to each Sunday and feast day in the church year, the monastic office generally prescribed an office hymn for each hour of daily prayer, such as “Now That the Daylight Fills the Sky” (LSB 870), which is usually assigned to Prime, the prayer office for the beginning of the day. “Before the Ending of the Day” is a perfect fit for Compline, the service at the completorium or completion of the day. It is not difficult to picture a group of monks congregating to close the day in prayer with the following Latin chant:
On Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs: Psalm 51 by Georg Philipp Telemann
Create in me a clean heart, O God
— Psalm 51:10
“We have now reached the Psalm of all Psalms; that which of all inspired compositions has, with the one exception of the Lord’s Prayer, been repeated oftenest by the Church.” Thus wrote John Mason Neale in his monumental, four-volume Commentary on the Psalms (II:181). These words about Psalm 51 also apply to the church as she approaches Ash Wednesday and prays in this Psalm that hearts broken through repentance might be restored through the joy of salvation.
Not all governments are the same. Some governments are better at preserving justice and rewarding virtue. Corrupt governments reward vice and punish those who do good. Some governments preserve a greater share of liberty and freedom for its citizens. Other governments are jealous of power and become repressive and restrictive. Governments sometimes come to power legitimately, using the laws and institutions that ensure fairness and oversight. But history is full of examples of governments coming to power by brute force or deceit.
No matter the government, weather it be good or evil, St. Paul’s divinely inspired instructions are clear:
Therefore do the Wise Men hasten with their offerings to the royal nuptials
where the guests are gladdened with water made wine, alleluia.
— Antiphon to the Benedictus
Cantata 65 was first performed in Leipzig on 6 January 1724, Bach’s first Epiphany in Leipzig, the end of the Christmas season, and the beginning of the festival of the manifestation of Christ. What was anticipated during Advent and fulfilled at Christmas is fully revealed as Christ is manifest to the Gentiles, as this cantata vividly depicts in its text, tune, and context.
How to Understand and Use the "Simul"
The language of “at the same time righteous and sinner” has become an often-repeated axiom in American Lutheran Theology, and for good reason. It answers the demand from many protestant churches that a Christian be able to prove his Christian status to himself and others by steadily increasing holiness and works. A person’s ‘back-sliding’ evidences the insincerity of his previous commitments to Christ. Perhaps his conversation wasn’t genuine. A grieved conscience could wonder if he didn’t possess the Holy Spirit as he previously assumed. So, according to the holiness protestants , either a person has begun in righteousness and is ever improving and increasing in holiness or a person’s sins betray unescaped captivity to the devil.
Recently I had the opportunity to attend the annual Rocky Mountain District Pastors Conference in Denver where Dr. Masaki of the Fort Wayne Seminary convincingly argued that the axiom “simul iustus et peccator” is a central element of Luther’s theological writings and how it continues to benefit the church today.
“From Hearts—May it Go—to Hearts” Following Robert Shaw through Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis
I believe in . . . the life of the world to come
Readers of “Lifted Voice” might be surprised to encounter a column on the sacred music of Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827). Although he was raised Roman Catholic, he was not much of a church goer in his adult life, and certainly not a composer primarily for the church. Nevertheless, his Solemn Mass in D Major or Missa Solemnis (Opus 123), is what conductor Robert Shaw, from whose writings and recordings I have borrowed here, described as “an Everest,” i.e., a musical mountain that begs to be climbed (Deep River: The Life and Music of Robert Shaw, p. 497). Those who have done so (the present writer included) have not emerged the same; indeed, they never fully descend from this majestic mountain, even years after the programs have been archived and the echo has faded. As the church contemplates the end times this November, concurrent with COVID-limited celebrations of Beethoven’s 250th birthday, please join me to survey Beethoven’s masterpiece, with special focus on his setting of the words “and the life of the world to come.”
Oh, My Son! Sacred Music at the Death of a Child
Alleluia! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!
— Easter Acclamation
During my tenure at Naval Air Station Lemoore (central California), I had the privilege of participating in the annual Child Remembrance Ceremony, in recognition of October as Child Loss Month. As part the ceremony, those who had personally experienced the death of a child (in utero or otherwise) were kind enough to share their stories of grief and hope, followed by the lighting of votive candles in memory of those who have departed this world in the faith. In addition to these faith stories, I was privileged to share one piece of sacred music with the assembly, along with an appropriate hymn or prayer. Though I am no longer part of the Lemoore community, these wounded healers are forever in my heart for sharing their stories, which stand in vivid theological contrast to the current promulgation of abortion as a “reproductive health option.” In recognition of the reality of child loss, please join me to explore the work “When David Heard” by Eric Whitacre (b. 1970), an appropriate hymn by St. Ephraim Syrus (ca. AD 306–373), and a simple funeral chant on the words Jesus spoke after the death of Lazarus.
Cantatas over Coffee: J. S. Bach Cantata 130, "Lord God, We All to Thee Give Praise": Cantata for St. Michael and All Angels (1724)
Let Thy holy angel be with me, that the evil foe may have no power over me.
—Martin Luther’s Daily Prayer
Among the principal feasts of Christ in the church year, few are more beloved in the Lutheran tradition than St. Michael’s and All Angels (hereafter “Michaelmas”), with the possible exceptions of Reformation and All Saints. Two competing (or are they complementary?) theories might explain the choice of September 29th for this festival: the dedication of a church by the same name in ancient Europe, and/or the passing of the fall equinox, resulting in shorter days and longer nights, an allegory of the end-times battle between good and evil. The Scripture lessons were Revelation 12:7-12 (Michael’s end-times battle with the ancient dragon) and St. Matthew 18:1-11 (angels behold the face of God as part of their care for God’s children). In Bach’s Leipzig, St. Michael’s Day was also one of the quarterly occasions on which “rents were levied and agreed in northern Europe, the start of the new agricultural year for many people and, in Leipzig, the day of one of its three annual trade fairs” (John Eliot Gardiner, Bach: Music in the Castle of Heaven, p. 457). Theologically, the day called for what Jonathan Green describes as “a flashy and brilliant cantata” (A Conductor’s Guide to the Choral-Orchestral Works of J. S. Bach, p. 289), but the other commitments of the day might explain why Cantata 130, while unmistakably festive, is also one of Bach’s shortest cantatas.
Thy statutes have been my songs in the house of my pilgrimage.
— Psalm 119:54
The August 2020 issue of “Lifted Voice” is the 50th installment of this online column on sacred music. Almost every one of these issues has been edited by Dr. Jane Schatkin Hettrick, Professor Emeritus in Music at Rider University, and best known to many of us as Director of Parish Music at Redeemer Lutheran Church, Bayside, NY.
From thine altar, O Lord, we receive Christ,
in whom our heart and flesh rejoice.
— Antiphon for Corpus Christi
Psalm 84 is a hymn of the sons of Korah, descendants of Moses’ nephew. Korah once led a revolt against Moses and died, along with all his co-conspirators, when God caused "the earth to open her mouth and swallow him and all that appertained to them" (Num 16:31–33). His children, however, did not die (Num 26:11) and went on to serve as porters of the Temple (1 Chr 9:17–19), with special responsibility to care for God’s house, including the baking in pans for the meat-offering (Lev 2:5). These vital roles in the stewardship of God’s house, in addition to rescuing the family name, are reflected in the Psalms by the sons of Korah: 42, 44–49, 84, 85, 87 and 88.
When we consider the 6th commandment, it seems that often times we think only in terms of NOT doing something. Perhaps the main thing that comes to mind is either abstinence or adultery, both of which are negatives. However, there is much more going on here, and the virtue of Chastity points us to the full richness of this commandment.
On Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs: Sacred Music for the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin
O wondrous interchange! The Creator of mankind,
taking upon Him a living body, vouchsafed to be born of a pure virgin.
— Antiphon for the Common of the Blessed Virgin Mary
In the history of sacred music, it is difficult to pinpoint which text outside of the Psalms has been more frequently set to music: the Mass or the Magnificat. The appeal of the Mass (Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei) lies in the catholicity and continuity of the text, since it is being sung somewhere around the world at every second of every day. The Magnificat, however, is not far behind the Mass in Christian devotion. The miraculous story of the infancy narrative in Luke 1 and 2, the uniqueness of Mary’s place in the story of salvation, and the rich vocabulary in the Magnificat have given it a rightful and prominent place in the story of sacred music.
From the womb of one aged and barren was brought forth John, the Forerunner of the Lord.
— Antiphon for the Nativity of St. John the Baptist
In an article entitled, “Praying the Psalms with Jesus and His Body,” Thomas W. Winger makes the intriguing observation that the Codex Alexandrinus, the most important Greek manuscript of the fifth century, follows a common pattern of appending canticles to the 150th Psalm. These additions include the canticles of Luke 1 and 2: Benedictus, Magnificat, and Nunc Dimittis (CTQ 84:1-2, p. 123). The inclusion of Lukan canticles at the end of the Psalter suggests (or does it prove?) that the canticles of Luke 1 and 2 are part and parcel of the referent of St. Paul’s admonition to sing “Psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs” (Col 3:16; cf. Eph 5:19). In simple terms, the canticles of Luke 1 and 2 are part of our “A List” hymns, not to be neglected. In our ongoing exploration of Psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, the Nativity of St. John the Baptist (June 24th, six months before Christmas) gives us a chance to focus on the Benedictus (St. Luke 1:68-79).
And the catholic faith is this, that we worship one God in Trinity. . . .
— The Athanasian Creed
Helmuth Rilling, one of the most respected conductors, scholars, and teachers of the music of J. S. Bach (1685-1750), describes the importance of Bach’s cantatas: “J. S. Bach’s church cantatas are the center of his lifework . . . to know Bach, one must study his cantatas” (quoted in the Foreword to Melvin P. Unger, Handbook to Bach’s Sacred Cantata Texts). This is most certainly true. The passions and oratorios were performed for festive occasions, but Bach was obligated to provide (not necessarily compose) a cantata for every Sunday and feast day of the church year, except for a few Sundays in Lent and Advent. In the interest of exploring the vast treasure of Bach’s 200 extant cantatas (another 100 were lost), I am pleased to introduce my occasional column, “Cantatas Over Coffee,” beginning with Cantata 129, “The Lord, My God, be Praised,” originally written for Trinity Sunday.
There would I find a settled rest, while others go and come,
No more a stranger or a guest, but like a child at home.
— Isaac Watts
Psalm 23 is perhaps the most beloved and well known of all psalms. Martin Luther summarizes the content of this Psalm:
“For I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O Children of Jacob, are not consumed.” —Malachi 3:6
Things change. Sometimes this is good. Wisdom is earned with age and experience. It can’t be downloaded straight into our brains. In the same way, we teach the young people to put off childish things to prepare for the responsibilities of adulthood. Anthony Esolen in his recent book, Nostalgia, calls this “organic change” or changes that unwrap and unveil the full potential of one of God’s creatures. It’s change that delights in a baby taking her first steps, for instance. But when change attacks God’s gifts of life, like the institutions of the family and church, it is evil. This is change that tears down creation, despises God’s work of redemption, and stains God’s work of sanctifying our souls.
For the faithful who have gone before us and are with Christ,
Let us give thanks to the Lord: Alleluia
—Liturgy of Evening Prayer
All Saints’ Day is the most comprehensive festival among days of commemoration. Indeed, the Feast of All Saints encompasses the entirety of the great cloud of witnesses with which we are surrounded (Heb. 12:1). It holds before our eyes a great multitude which no man can number, of every nation, tribe, and language, who have come “out of the great tribulation [and] washed their robes . . . in the blood of the Lamb” (Rev. 7:9, 14). All Saints’ Day shares with Easter Sunday an emphasis on the resurrection. It overlaps with Pentecost in its emphasis on the ingathering of the church in its universality. Finally, and especially fitting for church year from November 1st through the Last Sunday in the Church Year, it shares with the last three Sundays of the church year an end-times focus on the life everlasting. This connection between All Saints’ Day and the end of the church year has not been lost on the great composers for the church. Three sacred choral works, arranged in biblical order, are fitting for the Bride on All Saints’ Day and through the end of the church year.
Buxtehude + Bach + Brahms
Faith clings to Jesus’ cross alone / And rests in Him unceasing.
—Paul Speratus (1484–1551)
The text of the hymn “Salvation Unto Us Has Come” hails from Paul Speratus. In a progression that is remarkably similar to Luther’s life, Speratus was forced to leave two parishes in Roman Catholic territories for preaching the right doctrine of justification by grace through faith in Christ. He received his doctorate from a major university and later became one of the first priests to openly marry. Speratus was condemned by the Catholic faculty at Vienna, imprisoned for a time under King Ludwig, and in 1523 came to Wittenberg, where he assisted in the preparation of the first Lutheran hymnal. It is no surprise, then, that the first Lutheran hymnal, the Achtliederbuch (“Eight Song Book”), contains the earliest hymns of both Luther and Speratus
The Lord, the King of Archangels: O come, let us worship Him
— Invitatory for the Common of Holy Angel
The name of the archangel St. Michael means “Who is like God?” He is mentioned in the book of Daniel (12:1), Jude (v. 9), and Revelation (12:7). He serves as the angelic helper of Israel in the battle against all forces of evil. The narrative in the Epistle for The Feast of St. Michael and All Angels (hereafter “Michaelmas”) describes Michael’s final casting down of Satan, the enemy of God’s people, an end-times victory made possible by Christ’s victory on the cross. St. Michael is often associated with Gabriel and Raphael, the other chief angels who surround the throne of God, although only Michael is specifically described in the Scriptures as “the archangel.” Since Michael and all angels are “charter members” of the heavenly choir, there is no shortage of sacred music for Michaelmas, including choral works by Bach, Mendelssohn, and Willan.
St. Paul says that we do not grieve “as others do who have no hope” (1 Thess. 4:13). Our Lord lives. Death and grave, our old enemies that used to devour everything, have been put under his feet (1 Cor. 15:25). The nature of our hope and what we can say about our Christian friends and family who have died in the faith is the subject of this brief article. There are three passages that I want you to know and with which I want you to become familiar. Knowing them will help you think and speak about death as a Christian. You won’t have to utter the same empty platitudes about “going to a better place.” You’ll be able to speak an articulate hope founded on the Scriptures and made real by Jesus’ victory over the grave.
Welcome to Around the Word
Around the Word paints a Biblical and joyful picture of teaching and life. We have our Bibles open, and we believe with simplicity what the Lord speaks there. We endeavor to have a thoughtful and generous, historical and current approach to the Lord’s word, understanding that theological integrity is the best way that we can serve the church at large.
We are Lutheran, that is, we let the Law and the Gospel echo in the full voice with which God speaks it, and we are on the lookout for error because we love to hear the truth, the life-giving voice of Jesus. So we care about their families and their neighbors and the world, both in this life and in the life to come.
We are working to recover the joy and delight of doctrine, of the Gospel.