I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near.
​- Numbers 24:17

Advent in J. S. Bach’s Leipzig was a closed season of the church year, that is, a time when weddings and other social affairs were not scheduled and sacred music (including cantatas) was scaled back. So why do we have three cantatas for Advent 1 in Leipzig (BWV 36, 61, and 62 [Cantata 132 for Advent IV hails from Weimar]) if it was a closed season? Günther Stiller explains the custom of the day: “[T]he first Sunday in Advent, which begins the new church year, was often emphasized as a special festival day over against the rest of the season, which was usually observed as a time of penitence” (Johann Sebastian Bach and Liturgical Life in Leipzig, p. 58). Our Advent treasury of sacred music from Bach, then, is quantitatively modest. Please join me to make the most of Bach’s Advent offerings as we explore Cantata 62, “Savior of the Nations, Come.”

The text of Cantata 62 is based on the hymn, “Savior of the Nations, Come” (LSB 332), one of a handful of hymns attributed to St. Ambrose (AD 339/40-97), the “father of Latin hymnody.” As the story goes, Ambrose, the Bishop of Milan, was faithfully resisting the Arians, a heretical group which denied the divinity of Christ. When the Empress Justina, who was sympathetic to the Arians, tried to force Ambrose to open the Basilica Portina for her adherents, Ambrose rightly refused. Fearing reprisal from Justina, Ambrose gathered the faithful together to sing psalms and hymns. When the soldiers sent by the Empress arrived as the basilica, they were so moved by the faithful sung confession of the people that they laid down their arms and joined in the singing, thereby disarming the Empress and her evil intentions (adapted from Carl Schalk, First Person Singular, p. 17). This anecdote explains the strong emphasis on Jesus’ divinity in Ambrosian chant, including the hymn at hand.
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Martin Luther, always aware of the strengths and weaknesses of pre-Reformation church music, knew a good treasure when he saw one. Luther appears to have translated the hymn (and adjusted the meter from 88 88 to 77 77 to accommodate the German language) in Advent 1523, the same year that he started his remarkable burst of hymn writing and translation. It was included in several hymnals in Luther’s lifetime and certainly deserves its place as the Lutheran Advent hymn par excellence (adapted from Lutheran Service Book: Companion to the Hymns, 1:6). The anonymous librettist uses the first and last stanzas of Luther’s hymn as movements 1 and 6, with loose paraphrases and adaptations for the intervening movements. The following chart was adapted here from Handbook to Bach’s Sacred Cantata Texts by Melvin Unger: 

The musical structure is typical of Bach’s early Leipzig cantatas: an elaborate opening chorale fantasia, a series of recitatives and arias, and a concluding “four-square” chorale, which the congregation likely joined in singing. Listen for the melody in the first and last stanzas and for a sense of hope and expectation throughout this cantata, now 300 years old.

​​The triple meter of the lively opening movement might reflect the threefold advent of Jesus: in the manger, in the means of grace, and at the end of days. The second movement is in ABA form, with a lengthy melisma in the tenor’s upper register on the second syllable of Beherrscher, as befits the highest ruler. After a straightforward recitative (Movement 3), the fourth movement calls forth the “dread warrior” of Jeremiah 20:11, coupling textual imperatives with equally direct music: Streite, siege, starker Held! “Fight, conquer, (O) strong champion!” The recitative-duet for soprano and alto is a relatively rare form in Bach’s cantatas, presumably to reflect the first person plural (“We honor,” etc.) in the text, based on the shepherds’ visit to the manger. The final chorale joins all the voices together in a high and holy doxology, with echoes of the Gospel for Advent 1, St. Matthew 21:1-9, especially the cry, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” (v. 9).
 
As discussed at the beginning of this article, keeping Advent is a challenge, resulting in some inconsistencies and misunderstandings, both in Bach’s day and in ours. Joseph Bottum puts it well in an article appropriately titled “The End of Advent”: 

To make the most of Advent and to properly distinguish Advent from Christmas, the church has historically celebrated Ember Days (Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday), usually expressed today as mid-week Advent services. Similarly, a host of hymns in our “embarrassment of riches” lends a sense of expectation to Advent, properly distinguishing Advent from Christmas. The Advent wreath, candle, and calendar mark the days until Christmas. And Bach’s cantatas for the season make Advent truly adventual, “a time before.” Perhaps Balaam said it best when he saw Israel camped in the wilderness and understood the nature of Old Testament prophecy and fulfillment: “I see him, but not now; I behold him but not near. A star shall come out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel” (Num. 24:17).

​Even so, Lord Jesus, quickly come!
 
 
Nota bene: The text of Cantata 62 is reprinted with permission from www.bach-cantatas.com, with English translation by Francis Browne.

Each of the living bore a name . . . . Each of the dead became a number.
​– Timothy Snyder on those murdered under Hitler and Stalin, 1930—1947

In a rare departure from the rhythm of the church year, every October we pause to highlight sacred music for Child-Loss Month. Please join me to explore a work by René Clausen (b. 1953), In Pace (“In Peace”), which honors those murdered during the Holocaust.

The slaughter of six million Jews under Hitler is a well-known fact of the history of World War 2, but what about the numerous children who perished during this mass genocide? According to the online encyclopedia of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, children were often targeted on racial grounds, especially the Jews. Others were slaughtered for their mental or physical disabilities, categorized as “life unworthy of life.” The aforementioned encyclopedia highlights three key facts:

First, the Nazis did not target children specifically because they were children, but for their alleged membership in supposedly dangerous biological, racial, or political groups.

Second, children and the elderly had the lowest survival rate in concentration and death camps. In Auschwitz and other camps, for example, individuals over fifty years of age, pregnant women, and children were immediately sent to the gas chambers.

Third, thousands of Jewish children survived because they were hidden. By compassionate advocates, new identities, and physical concealment, many escaped the Holocaust, but they still faced fear, danger, and the challenge of building a new life.

The statistics alone are staggering. Nazi Germany and its collaborators murdered about 1.5 million Jewish children and tens of thousands of Romani (Gypsy) children, thousands of German children with physical and mental disabilities, as well as many Polish children and children in German-occupied Soviet Union. Only able-bodied adolescents (ages 13-18) had a reasonable chance of survival, since they could be used for forced labor, especially the use of their small fingers to clean gun barrels.
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The tragedy of Hitler’s slaughter of the holy innocents made a deep impression on Clausen when he visited Auschwitz in 1996. He describes his rationale for In Pace in the liner notes to the CD Eternal Rest:

The text he selected for this choral benediction, known simply as “In Peace,” is the last verse of Psalm 4 and the final verse of Psalm 132. Psalm 4 is a prayer for God to answer the psalmist and to give him relief in his distress. The psalmist acknowledged the ongoing threat of his enemies, puts his trust in the Lord, and concludes, “In peace I will both lie down and sleep” (v. 8). Similarly, Psalm 132 is a psalm of trust in God, with a realistic view of one’s enemies and a desire to lie down and sleep in peace. The psalmist quotes David: “I will not enter my house or get into my bed, I will not give sleep to my eyelids, until I find a place for the Lord, a dwelling place for the Mighty One of Jacob” (132:3–5). Taken together, the verses from these two psalms petition the Lord for His protection through the night, the time when man is most vulnerable.

Clausen’s musical setting of this relatively brief text shows some of his trademark compositional traits, such as a thick texture (In Pace is scored for SSAATBB), gently unfolding melodies, long phrases, and softly-clashing dissonances. But the specific application of this text by the composer to the youngest victims of the Holocaust adds both a unique context and an emotive element. Even if their deaths were by ruthless slaughter under Hitler’s cruel sword or the murderous famine under Stalin, their heavenly Father was watching over them, giving sleep to their eyelids and the peace that passes understanding.
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Clausen is among the most voluminously published composers of our day, but after listening to this work, you will no doubt see why he describes In Pace as being among the works that are “closest to [him] in terms of compositional satisfaction” (Star of the North magazine, accessed 5 September 2024). What do you think the significance is of the bright chord at 4:50 and the sense of arrival 5:13 and again at 6:24?

– Psalm 4:9 and 132:4

As you listened to this performance under the capable direction of Charles Bruffy, you might have been struck be the constant sense of peace. The music starts in the lower registers and gradually swells, as if the psalmist is being lifted above his enemies and gradually ascending to heaven by faith. This progression from despair and hopelessness to a quiet and confident trust in the Lord is typical throughout the Psalter, and this Law-to-Gospel dynamic is painted here with a beautiful musical paintbrush, what Nick Strimple calls a “lush impressionistic style” (Choral Music in the Twentieth Century, p. 261). Notice, for instance, how the three climactic moments that I highlighted all occur in the partial Gloria (the ancient text sometimes omits “As it was in the beginning,” etc.), highlighting the good news that all good gifts flow from the Father through the Son by the Spirit. Having arrived at the gates of heaven, the music settles to a close that is the very definition of the peace that passes understanding.
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The comfort in this anthem for all who have a lost a child is manifold. One immediately recalls Jesus’ words to Jairus regarding his daughter, “The child is not dead but sleeping” (Mark 5:39). Sleep is an ancient metaphor for the death of the Christian. Jesus died. Believers sleep. And those who go to sleep will wake up, as Jesus said to Jairus’ daughter, “Little girl, I say to you, arise” (Mark 5:41). Similarly, the liturgy of Compline is laden with sleep as a metaphor for death, as evident in the following prayer, with striking parallels to the In Pace text: 

​And one can hardly surpass the child-like simplicity of the following stanza of Thomas Ken’s “All Praise to Thee, My God, This Night”:

​Devoted readers of “Lifted Voice” know well that my original inspiration for my annual column for Child-Loss Month hails from a ceremony at Naval Air Station Lemoore (central California). There military families gather annually in the flagship chapel of Navy Region Southwest to share stories of losing a child, to light a candle in remembrance of their son or daughter, and to explore the healing power of sacred music. One striking aspect of the stories of child loss that remains endearing to me was the proclivity to consistently refer to their deceased children by name. In the case of not-yet-named children, the pronoun “he” or “she” was employed, but the majority were called by name, regardless of whether they died in utero or as adults. The contrast to Hitler and Stalin, who treated humanity as a disposable commodity, is striking. Far from being a mere number, God calls His own by name and transforms their death into peaceful sleep, through Him who is the Resurrection and the Life, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Addendum: Funeral Antiphon

God’s own child, I gladly say it: I am baptized into Christ!
 –​ Lutheran Service Book 594.

Sacred music for the Nativity of St. John this Baptist (24 June) celebrates a double anniversary this year. J. S. Bach’s Cantata 7, “To Jordan Came the Christ, our Lord” for this festival is, at 300 years, ageless. Johann Walter’s chorale melody used in the opening and final movements was first published in 1524, thus marking its 500th anniversary, when it was first paired with the hymn text, “May God Bestow on Us His Grace.” Please join me and the musicians of the J. S. Bach Foundation to explore the theological and musical riches of Luther, Bach, and of course the heavenly treasure of Holy Baptism.

The Nativity of St. John the Baptist is celebrated sixth months before the Nativity of Our Lord, reflecting the age difference between the Messiah and His forerunner. Readings for the day in Leipzig included St. Luke 1:57–80, the account of the circumcision of John the Baptist and Zechariah’s joyful response, the Benedictus. This reading is traditionally paired with Isaiah 40:1–5, Isaiah’s proclamation of comfort for God’s people and the prophecy that John the Baptist will prepare His way and “make straight in the desert a highway for our God” (vs. 3). John’s proclivity to draw attention away from himself and point to Jesus seems fitting as we consider the cantata text below. John is only mentioned in the opening stanza, so the hymn says very little about John—just as John, who most certainly would have denounced modern social media in the most unmerciful terms, would have wanted it!

Leaving the subject of John’s circumcision and ministry to the Scripture lessons and the sermon in Leipzig, open your hymnal to Luther’s hymn and compare it with the cantata text below. You might recognize the first and seventh stanzas from Luther’s hymn on baptism, originally headed “A spiritual song of our Holy Baptism, which is a fine summary of what it is, who established it, and what its benefits are“ (Lutheran Service Book: Companion to the Hymns, 1:209). The intervening movements are poetic paraphrases of the corresponding stanzas of Luther’s hymn. Following the structure and content of Luther’s hymn, the cantata text focuses on the baptism of Jesus (stz. 1–4) and on Christian baptism for all nations (stz. 5–7). The words “Go out to ev’ry nation, And bring to them the living word” (LSB 406.5) might explain why Luther, having used Walter’s tune for the missionary hymn, “May God Bestow on Us His Grace” (LSB 823), also thought it was fitting for the missional focus of his hymn, “To Jordan Came” (see Robin Leaver, Luther’s Liturgical Music, p. 138). 

Bach’s music for this cantata follows the structure of Luther’s hymn, with direct quotes in the first and last movements and poetry for the intervening movements based on Luther’s text. Bach also follows a typical structure from his early years in Leipzig: an elaborate opening chorus or choral fantasia, several solo movements (recitatives and arias), and a final chorale setting for all voices and instruments, possibly including the congregation. The melody of the first and last movements is rugged, irregular, and rhythmic in its original form by Luther’s friend and colleague, Johann Walther. (In Bach’s more elaborate setting for voices and instruments the melody loses some of its rhythmic vitality, but it is fitting for baptism all the same.) The jarring rhythms, syncopations, and unexpected voice leading seem to depict the unpredictable waters of the river Jordan. Nicholas Anderson writes, “A pervasive image of the undulating waters of the Jordan, it would seem, is affectingly evoked by the predominantly flowing quavers [eighth notes] of the oboes d’amore set against the restless, lapping semiquavers [sixteenth notes] of the ripieno strings” (Oxford Composer Companions: J. S. Bach, p. 106).
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To get the full effect of the original “water music,” I need to send you to an external link for the J. S. Bach Foundation, whose videos do not play on third-party websites. I recommend using half of your screen for the text below and half for the video. (If you are not sure how to ‘split’ your screen, just ask the nearest ten-year-old to do the honors between lunch and recess.) So grab a cup of coffee for “Cantatas Over Coffee” and join Luther, Walter, Bach, and the J. S. Bach Foundation for a musical journey to the waters of the Jordan and to the waters of your own baptism into Christ. 

• www.youtube.com/watch?v=06PQgj_K8dI&t=6s

1.Chorus (Full Choir and Orchestra)  00:55
To Jordan came the Christ, our Lord,
To do His Father’s pleasure;
Baptized by John, the Father’s Word
Was given us to treasure.
This heav’nly washing now shall be
A cleansing from transgressions
And by His blood and agony
Release from death’s oppression.
A new life now awaits us. – LSB 406.1
 
2. Aria (Bass)  6:55
Mark and hear, you children of men,
What God baptism calls.
       True, there must be water here,
       But not simple water only.
       God's word and Holy Ghost
       Baptizes and cleanses sinners.

3. Recitative (Tenor)  11:43
This hath God shown
In words and in examples clear to all;
At the Jordan the Father plainly let
His voice resound while Christ was being baptized;
He said: This is my beloved Son,
In whom I have now found great pleasure;
He comes from heaven's lofty throne
To help the world
In meek and humble form descended
And has the flesh and blood
Of mankind's children to him taken;
Receive him now as your Redeemer true
And hear his precious teaching!

4. Aria (Tenor)  12:56
The Father's voice itself resounded,
The Son, who bought us with his blood,
Was baptized as a man.
The Spirit came, a dove appearing,
So that our faith would never doubt that
It was the Holy Trinity
Who established baptism for us.

5. Recitative (Bass)  16:51
When Jesus there after his suffering
And after the resurrection,
And from this world would go to his Father,
He said to his disciples:
Go forth to all the world and preach to all the gentiles,
He who believes and is baptized on earth now
Shall then be righteous and blessed.

6. Aria (Alto)  18:04
O mankind, trust now in this grace,
That ye not in error die,
Nor in hell's foul pit decay!
Human works and holiness
Never count before God's throne.
Sins are ours innately given,
We are lost by our own nature;
Faith and baptism make them clean
That they not perdition bring.

7. Chorale (Full Choir and Orchestra)  20:28
All that the mortal eye beholds
Is water as we pour it.
Before the eye of faith unfolds
The pow’r of Jesus’ merit.
For here it sees the crimson flood
To all our ills bring healing;
The wonders of His precious blood
The love of God revealing,
Assuring His own pardon. – LSB 406.7

In addition to the constant flow of water through the cantata, you might have heard a few other gems. The music of the bass aria “bubbles along” amiably, in contrast to the opulent opening chorus. The tenor aria heralds the Father’s voice at the top of his vocal range, set against the solo violins, whose music represents the other two persons of the Trinity. Following the structure of Luther’s hymn, the fifth movement transitions from Jesus’ baptism to your own baptism, with the cross as the hinge between the two. Jesus’ baptism looked ahead to His cross. Your baptism looks back at His cross and plunges you into His death. The text of the alto aria reminds us of the eternal consequences of baptism and what it means for daily living, that is, daily repentance and faith. The final chorale points us beyond mere water to our participation in Jesus’ death and the power of Jesus’ merit, with inventive harmonizations.
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It is just a coincidence that on June 24th of this year, as the church celebrates the Feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, hundreds of Lutheran youths will arrive at a “Higher Things” youth gathering to explore the theme, “Who am I?” From ancient philosophers to modern self-help books and beyond, this question has been a fundamental question of human existence. It has also been answered in fundamentally wrong ways, by a myriad of false teachers, both ancient and modern. John the Baptist points us to Christ, who came to do the Father’s will. Jesus’ command to baptize all nations, in turn, directs us to our own baptismal identity. The following hymn stanza by Bach’s contemporary, Erdmann Neumeister, answers the question in baptismal terms: 

For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, and on them he has set the world.
                             -- 1 Samuel 2:8

Our Lenten installment of “Lifted Voice” focused on Robert White’s musical lament for the old Jerusalem. As the calendar has now transitioned from forty penitential days to the fifty great days of Easter, please join me this Eastertide to rejoice over the new Jerusalem with Edward Bairstow’s (1874–1946) anthem, “Blessed City, Heavenly Salem.” 

Bairstow was an English organist, composer, and conductor. He was associated at various points in his life with the Royal College of Music, Chichester Cathedral (site of his burial), and perhaps above all with York Minster (see the image above), where he directed the music from 1913 until his death in 1946. Of his twenty-nine anthems for the church, he is perhaps best remembered for three works: “Save Us, O Lord” (1902), “Blessed City, Heavenly Salem” (1914), and “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” (1925). Writing in Grove Music Online, Francis Jackson says that these three works “are possessed of a deeply felt sentiment and enduring quality,” as our survey of “Blessed City” seeks to demonstrate. (Readers who wish to explore Bairstow’s music in greater detail are directed to Jackson’s book, Blessed City: The Life & Works of Sir Edward Barstow, 1874--1946 [Hyperion 1997]).

The text of “Blessed City, Heavenly Salem” (printed below the video link) is drawn from John Mason Neale’s translation of the ten-stanza Latin hymn, Urbs Beata Jerusalem, literally “Blessed City of Jerusalem.” Bairstow set stanzas 1–4 and 7 of the sixth-century chant, now conveniently available in Latin and English in Liber Hymnorum: The Latin Hymns of the Lutheran Church (Emmanuel Press 2016). Also drawn from the ten-stanza hymn is another five-stanza cento, the hymn “Christ Is Made the Sure Foundation” (Lutheran Service Book 909), which follows similar themes and is fittingly sung to the tune ‘Westminster Abbey’ by Henry Purcell, who served as church musician at Westminster. As the titular phrase implies, the ten-stanza text describes Christ as the foundation of the churchly Jerusalem and expounds on the gifts of salvation therein.

Scriptural foundations for the text include Ephesians 2:20–22, where we read that the church is “built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the chief cornerstone” (v. 20); Ephesians 4:15–16, where St. Paul admonishes the church to “grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body . . . makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love”; St. John’s vision of “the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God” in Revelation 21:1–4; and not to be overlooked is the influence of Solomon’s prayer of dedication of the Temple, especially 2 Chronicles 6:18–21, most notably the petition for God to “have regard to the prayer of your servant and to his plea . . . listening to the city and to the prayer that your servant prays before you” (v. 19, emphasis added). It is no surprise that “Blessed City” is often sung for church dedications and anniversaries.

As one who spent more time in England’s mighty cathedrals than perhaps any other contemporary, Bairstow was certainly a perfect match to set this thoroughly ecclesiastical text to music. It begins with an organ flourish, fitting for the “angel hands apparelled” in stanza 1, accompanied by unison proclamations that the singers and the hearers are in the city of God. The boy sopranos carry the weight of stanza 2, as is fitting for phrases such as “new and ready,” “fair adorned,” and “of pure gold.” The gentlemen of the choir take the lead in stanza 3, as if an English garrison of choral vicars is opening the gates of heaven for the faithful. The most dramatic change is probably for stanza 4 to paint the texts “blow and biting sculpture” and “stones elect / In their places compacted” on a vivid musical canvas. Following a brief organ interlude, a treble soloist paints a serene picture of Solomon’s prayer for the Lord to “hear Thy servants as they pray.”
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As you listen to “Blessed City,” musically you might agree with William McVicker’s assessment that it is “a curious and fascinating mix of Brahmsian harmony with plainsong, Elizabethan and Jacobean musical influences” (liner notes to Hyperion CDA66374, p. 7). Theologically, consider significance of the contrast between the opening flourish and the serene ending. Why is it fitting to bring this generally grandiose work to a peaceful close? 

The header verse that I have chosen for this column (“The pillars of the earth,” etc.) is from Hannah’s canticle, the Old Testament “Magnificat” (1 Sam 2:1–10). Recall that Hannah was barren and prayed fervently that the Lord would grant her a son, whom she in turn would dedicate to the Lord’s service (1 Sam 1:11). The Lord granted her request and she bore Samuel, who became a pivotal figure in Israel’s rise to Davidic and Solomonic glory. Consider this theme verse in its fuller context: 

See how the abundant grace granted to Hannah has also been given to the new Jerusalem! Left to ourselves, we are alienated from God, strangers to the heavenly city, and without hope from one generation to another. But the Lord provided the ultimate miraculous pregnancy when Christ was conceived by the Spirit and born of the Virgin, “Out of heaven from God descending.” He makes the spiritually poor rich in heavenly treasure and raises them from the ash heep of death itself. Jesus grants eternal citizenship in the churchly Jerusalem, where He is the cornerstone and His benediction is “shed within its walls alway.”
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And perhaps this ongoing benediction or blessing is what the composer had in mind when he designed an ending of solitude and contentment? God’s Bride is at home in the new Jerusalem, for she leads an earthly life in heaven and a heavenly life on earth. In either case, God surrounds her with songs of deliverance and graciously bestows all the gifts of the gospel. 

Jerusalem, my happy home, when shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end? Thy joys, when shall I see?
  – Sixteenth-century Hymn

Jerusalem has been the city of deep wailing and great rejoicing for thousands of years. The Lamentations of Jeremiah are a case in point, and the angst of the prophet’s lament has not been lost on composers for the church. Sixteenth-century Europe, for instance, was blessed with settings by the finest composers of the day, including Alfonso Ferrabosco (the elder), Thomas Tallis, Antoine Brumel, Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina, and Robert White. Since this is an anniversary year for White (c. 1538—1574), please join me in a lament over the old Jerusalem with his setting of Lamentations 1:8-13 for five voices.

White was a Roman Catholic composer in England, often mentioned in the same breath with John Sheppard, Christopher Tye (whose daughter he married), Thomas Tallis, Robert Parsons, and Gyles Farnaby. He served three major posts as church musician:  Ely Cathedral (please see the image above), Chester Cathedral, and Westminster Abbey. Choral works by White that are fitting for Lutheran worship include several settings of the Mass, Latin motets (including two settings of Lamentations, one for five voices and one for six voices), and about half a dozen English anthems. David Mateer and Irwin Spector describe his two sets of Lamentations as “particularly fine” and “a high point of Elizabethan choral music” (Grove Music Online).
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The context for singing the Lamentations is Matins for the Triduum, that is, the three-day liturgy that encompasses Maundy Thursday evening through the dawn of Easter Sunday. Deeply penitential in nature, you can see as you survey the biblical verses below the video link how the strength of the law permeates Jeremiah’s message. Writing in Hebrew strophes (similar to hymn stanzas), the prophet looks ahead to Babylonian captivity and the desolation of Jerusalem. She had sinned grievously and become filthy (v. 8), was bound for a dramatic fall (v. 9), was susceptible to the enemy from Babylon (v. 10), and would soon trade earthly treasures for food (v. 11). These verses recall the Good Friday reproaches (improperia), wherein the voice of Christ, spoken by the pastor, calls God’s people to repentance: 

​Pastor:
Thus says the Lord:
"What have I done to you, O my people,
And wherein have I offended you?
Answer me.
For I have raised you up out of the prison house of sin and death,
"And you have delivered up your Redeemer to be scourged.
For I have redeemed you from the house of bondage,
And you have nailed your Savior to the cross.
O my people!"
 
Congregation:
Holy Lord God,
Holy and mighty God,
Holy and most merciful Redeemer;
God eternal, leave us not to bitter death.
O Lord, have mercy!
 
At verse 12, however, the text shifts to the voice of Christ, “All who you pass by [O vos omnes] look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow.” These words foreshadow the voice of Christ from the cross, as He suffered outside old Jerusalem and inaugurated the era of the new Jerusalem. The final verse of this setting continues the lament from the cross, so that these verses naturally lead the hearer from the service of foot-washing on Maundy Thursday to the veneration of the cross on Good Friday and into a period of waiting in quiet faith at the Easter Vigil, anticipating the news of Jesus’ resurrection.
As with most motets of this period, the biblical verses are set to imitative music, with each voice equal in importance and the music changing as the text changes. So far this is conventional for the high Renaissance. But there is a unique feature to White’s setting Lamentations that give it an enduring quality beyond some motets of this era. The verses below are acrostic, that is, each verse starts with a sequential letter of the Hebrew alphabet (Heth, Teth, Iod, etc.). These literary markers are probably not intended to be set to music, but some Renaissance composers included them. Peter Phillips summarizes the effect:

The musical changes yet again for the corporate cry (perhaps drawn from the Liturgy of the Triduum?), “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, turn to the Lord, your God.”
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I hesitate to offer a track of nearly twenty-minutes of music in Latin, but you might find yourself immersed in the music and the message as you follow along with the text and let White be your musical and expressive guide. After listening to this work, you might agree with one scholar who placed it “among the most remarkable works bequeathed to us by an English composer of the 16th century” (The Musical Times 67:1004, p. 894). 

HETH
Jerusalem sinned grievously;
    therefore she became filthy;
all who honored her despise her,
    for they have seen her nakedness;
she herself groans
    and turns her face away.

TETH
9 Her uncleanness was in her skirts;
    she took no thought of her future;
therefore her fall is terrible;
    she has no comforter.
“O Lord, behold my affliction,
    for the enemy has triumphed!”

IOD
10 The enemy has stretched out his hands
    over all her precious things;
for she has seen the nations
    enter her sanctuary,
those whom you forbade
    to enter your congregation.
                Jerusalem, Jerusalem, turn to the Lord, your God.

CAPH
11 All her people groan
    as they search for bread;
they trade their treasures for food
    to revive their strength.
“Look, O Lord, and see,
    for I am despised.”

LAMED
12 “Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by?
    Look and see
if there is any sorrow like my sorrow,
    which was brought upon me,
which the Lord inflicted
    on the day of his fierce anger.
​
MEM
13 “From on high he sent fire;
    into my bones he made it descend;
he spread a net for my feet;
    he turned me back;
he has left me stunned,
    faint all the day long.
                Jerusalem, Jerusalem, turn to the Lord, your God. 

​Upon hearing White’s Lament for five voices, one scholar said, “Sad as the mourning Prophet’s words fall on the ear, more sad to me the music’s tones appear” (The Musical Times 67:1004, p. 894). That is to say, the Lamentations demonstrate White’s ability “to manipulate large musical structures while at the same time exploiting the expressive potential of the text” (Grove Music Online). And this expressive potential is rightly used in the service of the law to bring sinners in the new Jerusalem to repentance, similar to Jesus’ own lament over His beloved city in Matthew 23: 

​But the Lord has not abandoned Jerusalem! The joy of Easter Sunday awaits, with the full consolation of the gospel for those who have been crushed by the full strength of the law. The new Jerusalem of all believers—Jewish and Gentile, living and departed—has dropped down from heaven in Christ, who rejoices over her this Eastertide with celestial joy, as depicted in John’s vision in Revelation 21: 

The header quote above, from “Jerusalem, my happy home,” was written about the same time as Robert White’s Lamentations. This hymn lifts your thoughts beyond this earthly life to the Jerusalem above, who is your mother:
​
                Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there
                Around my Savior stand;
                And soon my friends in Christ below
                Will join the glorious band.
 
                O Christ, do thou my soul prepare
                For that bright home of love
                That I may see Thee and adore
                With all Thy saints above. – LSB 673.5-6
 

We have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God, in the midst of thy temple.
–​ Psalm 48:9 (Introit for Candlemas)

I am categorizing this column as part of my occasional “Cantatas Over Coffee” series, but it actually does triple duty as “Cantatas Over Coffee,” “Anniversaries in Sacred Music,” and “Hymns of the Reformation.” In addition to being a wonderful cantata, it was written and performed 300 years ago for Bach’s first Candlemas in Leipzig. And the work incorporates a stanza from Martin Luther’s Nunc Dimittis hymn, “In Peace and Joy I Now Depart,” which is 500 years old this year. Please join me to explore briefly all three facets of Candlemas under the theme, “We have thought of Thy lovingkindness, O God, in the midst of thy temple.”

Candlemas is a principal feast of Christ in the church year, taking precedent over any Sunday that might fall on the same day. The custom of lighting candles for Christ, the Light of the world, dates at least back to Egeria, a fourth-century pilgrim whose famed travel diary documented the celebration in Jerusalem. The title “Candlemas” appears to be a later addition to an older title, “The Meeting,” which indicated the fulfillment of the Old Testament reading, Malachi 3:1-4, “The Lord, whom ye seek, will suddenly come to His temple” (v. 1). The gospel lesson for the day, St. Luke 2:22-32, which includes the presentation of Jesus in the Temple and Simeon’s canticle, the Nunc Dimittis.

The text of Cantata 83 (the number is neither liturgical nor chronological) is by an anonymous librettist and incorporates images and echoes of the appointed liturgical texts of the day, along with a few quotes from Simeon’s canticle and one stanza of a Luther hymn. As you survey the English translation below, you will see that it begins with the transition from the Old Covenant to the New Testament, as befits the Gospel for the day. As with any good sermon, however, the poet eventually places the good news of Christ into the ears and hearts of the modern hearer, especially when and if the congregation joins in the familiar hymn stanza in movement 5.

The scoring of the cantata is for alto, tenor, and bass soloists, a four-part choir for the final movement, and a small orchestra of strings, woodwinds, two horns, and continuo. Since this is a cantata for solo voices, regular readers of “Lifted Voice” will immediately notice that there is no opening chorus, leaving most of the work to the three soloists, with the addition of the soprano line (sung by the boys of St. Thomas, perhaps?) for the final chorale. The transparent textures and individual vocal lines paint a vivid and expressive musical picture as you journey from the old temple to the new and greater Temple, Christ Himself, who is present for you in the new Jerusalem.
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So grab a cup of coffee, follow the translation and commentary below, and behold the One who has suddenly come to His temple. 

1.   00:00    Aria: O joyful time of the new covenant

​This da capo (ABA) aria is richly scored for the full orchestra. Its first section celebrates the "joyful time,” depicted in the opening dotted rhythms, major key, buoyant, and upward melodic direction on “O joyful” (Erfreute), all joining to create a “basic tone of cheerful confidence” (Oxford Composer Companions: J. S. Bach, p. 157). The second section contrasts the first section to depict our “resting place” (Ruhestatt), highlighted by the violin imitating funeral bells by striking the open strings. The middle section concentrates on "our resting place, our grave", the violin imitating funeral bells by repetitions on open strings.

2.   6:47       Aria: Lord, now let Your servant depart in peace

​Konrad Küster makes the bold claim that this movement “is quite unlike anything else in Bach’s music” (Oxford Composer Companions: J. S. Bach, p. 157), and I for one certainly agree. The canticle of Simeon is sung by the bass to the traditional plainchant (just a few notes, as you will hear), but with Simeon’s words placed at the beginning and end of the movement, thereby forming an antiphon for the intervening text. The poetic text in the center is one of great comfort;  indeed, this movement alone is an excellent sermon on the art of dying, wherein a good death is a gift from God, who calls His children to Himself. Underlying this text an instrumental canon, Bach’s favored musical form to depict the canonic or fixed nature of the law, is played by all strings in unison as “choir 1,” with the continuo echoing as “choir 2.” The result is a law-gospel juxtaposition, with the soloist singing the gospel in the foreground and the instruments depicting law in the background. 

3.   10:36    Aria: Make haste, heart, full of joy

​This solo for tenor depicts the faithful rejoicing in the good news preached in the preceding movement. The violin plays seemingly endless triplets, echoed by the tenor in extensive vocal runs and acrobatics. They join together to depict the opening phrase of the movement, “Hurry [Eile], my heart, full of joy” to the throne of grace. The imperative to step (treten) before God’s throne would grow importance for Bach in Leipzig. Near the end of his tenure (he died in office in 1750), Bach left “The Art of the Fugue” unfinished to complete his setting of the text, “And Now I Step Before Thy Throne,” his life having been lived to the greater glory of God.

4.   16:19    Recitative: Yes, even though your faith is aware

​This short recitative is a transition to the final chorale. Listen for the prominence of “Yes” (Ja) and “light” (Licht), as if Simeon himself is still among us, proclaiming that Christ is indeed “a light to lighten the Gentiles.”

5.   17:01    Chorale: He is the Hope and saving Light

​He is the Hope and saving Light
Of lands benighted;
By Him are they who dwell in night
Fed and lighted.
He is Israel’s Praise and Bliss,
Their Joy, Reward, and Glory – The Lutheran Hymnal 137.4

Martin Luther’s hymn on Simeon’s Canticle was written in 1524 to be sung as a “tight” German paraphrase in place of the Latin text. Each stanza of Luther’s four-stanza hymn echoes one verse of Simeon’s canticle. In this case, stanza 4 of the complete hymn captures the theology of Luke 2:32, with the previous verses of the Nunc Dimittis (vss. 29–31) having already been sung in the second movement. The music is simple compared to the preceding movements, but it is still expressive music, with a substantive melody and rich harmony. Do the upward leaps of the opening statement depict the ascent of the soul to heaven? The congregation in Leipzig probably joined in this final stanza, which could also double as a description of the nature and function of Bach’s sacred music, itself a proclamation of the “joy, reward, and glory” of the Christ Child. 

The header quote that I have selected for this Candlemas column is from the older Introit or entrance Psalm for Candlemas:

Of special interest here is the Psalmist’s phrase “in the midst of Thy temple.” When Mary and Joseph brought Jesus to the old temple, they redeemed Him from Levitical service because He was not of the tribe of Levi. In addition to bringing the new and greater Temple to the courts of the old temple, then, Joseph and May paradoxically redeemed the Redeemer! Thus Christ, the new Temple, was free from full-time service to the old temple, set aside to serve as the new place of worship for the newly constituted Israel of all believers.
​
O joyful time in the new covenant as the mystery of salvation unfolds! The same gifts given to old Simeon are now delivered to you this Candlemas as you hold Christ, the new Temple, in your hand in the Blessed Sacrament of the new Jerusalem. You hasten to His throne of grace, where He hears your prayers according to His lovingkindness. The candles for the liturgy of Candlemas remind you of Christ, whose light shines in the darkness. And you are ready, with Simeon and all the faithful, one day to depart this world in peace and to praise God in the choir of the heavenly Jerusalem. 

Dec. 21, 2023 - Pastor Brian Hamer

Herbert Howells (1892–1983) followed in the footsteps of Ralph Vaughan Williams as a leading English composer of the resurgent English tradition of the twentieth century. He exhibited great musical talent as a child and studied organ at Gloucester Cathedral. He studied composition at the Royal College of Music with Charles Villiers Stanford, who probably had more impact on Howells than any other figure. Howells later taught at the Royal College of Music and St. Paul Girl School in London, where he followed Gustav Holst. He composed for nearly seventy years, making significant contributions to every genre except opera. It seems fitting that he is buried at Westminster Abbey alongside Gibbons, Purcell, Stanford, and Vaughan Wiliams. Please join me in this, our final journey for 2023, to explore three Christmas works (arranged according to the church year) by the composer whom David Willcocks described as “the foremost British composer of church music of his day” (Church Music Quarterly, July 1983, p. 4). 

​Advent: “A Spotless Rose”

​The text of “A Spotless Rose” (please see the complete text below) builds on the Lord’s promise to Ahaz in Isaiah 7:10-14. Recall that the Lord asked King Ahaz to ask Him for a sign, but Ahaz said, “I will not ask, and I will not put the Lord to the test” (v. 12). So the Lord promised a sign unlike any other theophany of old: “The virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (v. 14). Thus the temporal kingdoms would be destroyed, even as the eternal kingdom quietly entered this world through the womb of the blessed virgin, as promised “deep in prophet’s sacred page and grand in poet’s winged word” (LSB 810.2).

The second stanza shifts from Old Testament prophecy to New Testament fulfillment, perhaps echoing St. Augustine’s oft-quoted dictum: “The New [Testament] is in the Old concealed; the Old is in the New revealed.” The Rose predicted in Isaiah was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary. The Rose (Christ) is spotless, that is, like us in every way, but without sin. Before the world, Jesus was just another birth during a Roman census, pretty well under the cultural radar. But before God and the faithful, this was the turning point of history and the fulfillment of hundreds of years of prophecy: “When all was still and it was midnight, [the] almighty Word . . . descended from [the] royal throne.”

​Jeffrey Richard Carter identifies some aspects of Howells’ music in this anthem, which are indicative of his early works (circa 1912—1935). There are frequent metrical changes in response to the text. In the first seven measures, he changes meter six times! Thus the music serves the text, so that, in the words of Christopher Palmer, one senses a “timeless quality akin to the fourteenth-century lyric from which the words are derived” (Herbert Howells: A Study, p. 74). Carter also notes the use of silence. For example, each voice has a fermata over the rest after the baritone solo. Indeed, the choral parts have four quarter-note rests plus the fermata, so that “the change of texture, from soloist with chorus, to a slightly altered repetition of the same material from the first verse, is even more striking because of the enforced pause” (Choral Journal 42:8, p. 13). 

​Christmas: “Sing Lullaby”

​F. W. Harvey’s “Sing Lullaby” describes the meaning of Jesus’ birth in three stanzas. The references to winter snow throughout our Christmas texts are a bit of a stretch, but there are also some theological gems. The mention of “oxen-stall” in stanza 1 echoes Isaiah’s prophecy, “The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master’s crib, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand” (1:3). The evangelists do not directly mention animals at Jesus’ birth, although the circumstances (shepherds, manger, outdoor setting, etc.), along with Isaiah’s words, leave no doubt that Jesus came to identify with and to restore all creation.

The second stanza continues the lullaby to Jesus, but adds a very important hint at Jesus’ crucifixion: “The naked blackthorn’s growing / To weave his diadem.” Here the poet, following patristic precedent, sees elements of the manger foreshadowing details of Jesus’ Passion. The blackthorns of Bethlehem, only a few miles from Jerusalem, foreshadow the thorns used to fashion Jesus’ crown of thorns, not unlike the similarity between the following verses in Luke’s Gospel: “And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn” (2:7) and His Passion narrative: “Then [Joseph of Arimathea] took [Jesus’ body] down and wrapped it in a linen shroud and laid him in a tomb cut in stones, where on one had ever been laid” (23:53). The third stanza approximates the first stanza, but adds the good news that this Jesus is “the Saviour of all,” that is, the One who would keep the law, suffer death, and rise again for all men.

​Howells creates a musical lullaby through rocking motifs, that is, melodic lines flowing up and down and effectively surrounding the text as the “lullaby” of praise surrounds and enfolds the Christ. The voices sing in textual unison for the second stanza to proclaim, “Jesus, Born now in Bethlehem.” The mood shifts slightly in the third stanza, with the women’s voices perhaps representing the angels and the men echoing the faith of the shepherds? Writing in Grove Music Online, Paul Andrews says that in his church music Howells “found the perfect niche for his languid romanticism, a love of choral texture and resonant acoustics, in music of chromatic sensuousness,” all of which are evident in this performance by the Atlanta Master Chorale.

​Epiphany: “Here is the Little Door”

​The text of this anthem is by Frances Chesterton, wife of the Catholic theologian, G. K. Chesterton. Like that of her husband, her poetry has literary substance and Christological content, but with greater clarity and coherence. As you can see in the text printed below, the first stanza builds on the Epiphany Gospel (Matt 2:1-12) of the visit of the Magi, but with profound theological significance assigned to the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. As I read the text, the Magi say to one another, “Here is the little door,” that is, “Here is the narrow way that leads to eternal life, in contrast to the broad road that leads back to Herod and to death.” She adds an interesting “spin” on the gifts, noting that gold was never bought or sold (not likely, but very poetic);  myrrh “strewn about his bed,” arguably a reference to its use at Jesus’ burial;  and incense “in clouds above His head,” perhaps echoing its use in Temple worship in nearby Jerusalem.

​But the second stanza preaches an even richer gospel as it reverses subject and objects, picturing the Christ-Child giving gifts to you and to me. In this rich imagery, the Child awakes and the worshippers lift up their hands in a gesture of praise. “For gold, He gives a keen-edged sword,” that is, the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. “For incense, smoke of battle, red” for this little Child is God’s warrior, a new and greater David who will slay the Goliath of sin and death. And He gives “Myrrh for the honored happy dead,” recalling its use in ancient embalming rites. Yes, these gifts are “terrible and sweet,” for in the shadow of the manger there is the cross. 

​​Robert W. Lehman summarizes the depth and legacy of sacred music by Herbert Howells: 

​How fitting, then, is the music of Herbert Howells for Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany! The season of Advent concludes with the prayer, “Drop down ye heavens, from above, and let the skies pour down righteousness: let the earth open, and let them bring forth salvation” (Is 45:8). On Christmas Day the church’s expectant prayer is fulfilled: “Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing” (LSB 379.4). And He is manifest to you at Epiphany as the full identity of the spotless Rose is revealed. Here Howells “expressed for all humanity what so few can articulate” without music: “And without controversy great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesh” (1 Tim 3:16). 

Nov. 16, 2023 - Pastor Brian Hamer

England has never produced a greater composer than William Byrd.
 – Peter Phillips

For the August 2023 issue of BBC Music Magazine, the editors polled 167 professional musicians and asked them to name their top five British composers. When the votes were tallied, the top five were (5) William Byrd (4) Ralph Vaughan Williams (3) Henry Purcell (2) Edward Elgar and (1) Benjamin Britten (pp. 34–37). When one looks at the score sheet of who voted for whom, one cannot help but notice that among choral musicians (e.g., Bob Chilcott, Harry Christophers, Paul McCreesh, et al.) William Byrd (1543–1623) is consistently in the top five (pp. 38–41). In the header quote above, Peter Phillips ranks Byrd as England’s best. While instrumentalists and symphonists appear to disagree, those who have explored Byrd’s choral music have emerged with a renewed appreciation for the flowering of genius at the height of the English Renaissance. Please join me this month to explore Byrd’s settings of the canticles for Christian worship.

The term “Great Service” appears to hail from E. H. Fellowes, following his discovery in 1914 of some church music by Byrd, which begged for proper cataloguing. And yet, as Richard Turbet notes, during Byrd’s lifetime “there was no category of musical composition called ‘Great Services’ . . . [the term] should only be used adjectively,” that is, as a descriptor of substantive collections of sacred music (The Musical Times 131:1767, p. 277). In practical terms, the term as we know it today indicates a compilation of sacred pieces—Venite, Te Deum, Benedictus, Kyrie (omitted in this column), [Nicene] Creed, Magnificat, and Nunc Dimittis—that can be performed as needed, with the understanding that there is no liturgical service that calls for all of them at once.
​
In his magisterial work, William Byrd: Gentleman of the Chapel Royal, John Harley summarizes the enduring value of Byrd’s Great Service:

​I hesitate to offer a play-list of six works, ranging in length from about five to nine minutes each. I invite you to explore one at a time (maybe according to the church year or the liturgy of the hours?) and to hear how, according to Peter Phillips, “Byrd showed his contemporaries how certain aspects of Anglican choral music could be elaborated to splendid effect,” and yet “the words [are] set clearly and not . . . lost in a cloud of abstract beauty” (Gimell CD 454 911-2, liner notes, pp. 3–4).  

Venite
The Venite is named for the opening phrase of Psalm 95 “Oh, come [venite], let us sing unto the Lord.” Lutherans know it best as the appointed Psalm for Matins. Notice how Byrd alternates fluently among various textures and voicings, from the opening measures for four treble voices to more complex textures for all voices. The designations “Verse” and “Full” suggest alternation between small and large ensembles. Similarly, “Can.” and “Dec.” indicate the cantor’s side of the choir loft (to your right, from the perspective of the worshipper) and the deacon’s side (to your left), respectively, facilitating antiphonal singing.

Te Deum
The Te Deum is the preeminent hymn of Christendom after the closing of the New Testament Canon. Its authorship is shrouded in obscurity, but its place in our sung confession (Luther called it the “fourth creed” of Christianity) is second to none. Lutherans know it best as the canticle at Matins and secondarily as the post-Communion canticle on festival Sundays. Notice how Byrd makes full use of the resources available to English cathedral choirs and elaborates them to splendid effect: two sopranos, two countertenors (male altos, in modern terms), tenors and basses, dispersed in two choirs in the chancel. Do you agree that the variety in voicing, combined with the lack of repetition in the text, make the work seem significantly shorter than its actual length of nine and a half minutes?

Benedictus
Zechariah’s hymn was sung in praise to God upon hearing the good news that all of Israel was reduced to two pregnancies (Luke 1:68-79). Lutheran church musicians might utilize Byrd’s setting as a choral canticle for Matins, perhaps with organ doubling for accessibility for the volunteer church choir. Notice how Byrd departs from the precedent of not repeating text at the phrase, “As He spake by the mouth of His holy prophets,” depicting a company of prophets. It is as if Byrd is saying, “The promise of the ages has come, just as it is written in the prophet’s sacred page.” Also notice how the Tallis Scholars always sing two singers to a part with the microphone placed close to the singers, resulting in superb blend, generally transparent musical textures, and the flexibility to “ride the wave” of each musical line.

Creed
“Credo” in this case means the Nicene Creed, that is, the trinitarian confession of faith that was by and large developed at the Council of Nicaea in AD 325. Its inclusion in the Great Service is a bit surprising because its place in the entire liturgy of the West (Roman, Lutheran, and Anglican) is as a response to the Gospel Lesson the Mass. But its use here is easily explained by the nature of the Great Service as a compilation of sacred works for Protestant worship. The relatively short length of Byrd’s setting (just shy of five and a half minutes in this performance) is surprising, but is easily explained by Byrd’s (1) lack of textual repetition and (2) ability to paint the text (e.g., ascending lines for the resurrection and ascension and descending lines for the incarnation and crucifixion) without great musical clutter or elaboration.

Magnificat
The Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis are probably the most prominent and beloved texts of the Anglican liturgy due to their regular use at Evensong. Indeed, their place at Evensong (they are sung adjacently after the first scripture lesson) has created a vast treasury of settings known simply as the “Short Service,” that is, sets of the Magnificat, Nunc Dimittis, and versicles for Evensong. Mary’s hymn (Luke 1:46-55) lends itself to Byrd’s resources and techniques, allowing leaner textures for the first-person texts (“My soul,” “my spirit,” etc.) and fuller voicing for corporate texts (“throughout all generations,” “as He spoke to our fathers,” etc.). Notice how sensitive the Tallis Scholars are to the cadence at the words “all generations,” a trait that has remained constant throughout their remarkable fifty-year history.

​Nunc Dimittis
This canticle is the hymn of Simeon, his expression of sublime joy at the appearance of the Christ child and a word of comfort as he approaches his own death (Luke 2:29-32). The sense of contemplation, fulfillment and quiet joy is present throughout Byrd’s setting of the biblical text, complemented by more textual repetition than any other work in the Great Service. Notice how he uses five or six voices throughout the work, avoiding the fuller textures of the Te Deum. The joy climaxes at the words “and ever shall be,” before settling to a serene and sensitive final cadence. This work would have been especially fitting at the Chapel Royal at St. James’s Palace (please see the image above), where Byrd was a Gentlemen and where occasional services for royalty called for newly-commissioned works.
 
Writing in Grove Music Online, Joseph Kerman summarizes Byrd’s remarkable gifts as a composer, which you, the listener, have just heard:

​This remarkable combination of homophony and polyphony, yes, of the simple and the complex, is not without theological significance. Byrd himself said of the relationship between text and music:

​Similarly, Byrd said of harmony: 

​So is Byrd England’s greatest composer? Judge for yourself, and please consider responding in the chat box below to further the conversation. What seems certain to me is that Byrd’s canticles in the Great Service are among the very best of the Renaissance and therefore deserve a place in your Lutheran listening library and hopefully in your worship life.  As Byrd himself said at about the same time he was writing the Great Service, “Since singing is so good a thing, I wish all men would learne to sing!” (Composers on Music, p. 10)

Oct. 27, 2023 - Pastor Brian Hamer

Jane Schatkin Hettrick

​When Martin Luther penned “Lord, Keep Us Steadfast in Thy Word” (TLH 261; cf. LSB 655) around 1541, Lutherans faced numerous threats, and needed to be unwavering in their faith. The Islamic Ottoman Empire was advancing on the West, having taken Buda (today Budapest), and were poised to seize Vienna. At the same time, the Catholic Church posed its own threat, in that Holy Roman Emperor Charles V was pressuring Lutherans to return to their “true faith.” In a further unholy alliance, King Francis I of France joined Sultan Suleiman against Charles V.  The Elector Friedrich directed Luther and John Bugenhagen (Wittenberg pastor, from1523 to1558), to instruct all pastors in Wittenberg to pray for protection against the Turks. In response, Luther wrote an “Admonition to pray against the Turks” (Vermahnung zum Gebet wider den Türken).
 
Thus surrounded by dangers, Luther was also inspired to write the hymn “Erhalt uns, Herr, bei deinem Wort.” Published in Joseph Klug’s Wittenberg Hymnal (1544), the heading designates it as “A children’s hymn to sing against the two archenemies of Christ and his Holy Church: the pope and the Turks” (Ein Kinderlied zu singen wider den zween Ertzfeinde Christi und seinen heiligen Kirchen, den Bapst und die Türcken). Scholars believe that Luther also composed the melody, known by the same title, Erhalt uns Herr. The following video of one movement of J. S. Bach’s cantata based on this hymn shows artwork from the sixteenth century that highlights Luther’s opponents and contextualizes this hymn as an imprecatory hymn against the enemies of Christ and His church. 

​It is derived from the Ambrosian hymn “Veni Redemptor Gentium” (Come, Savior of the Gentiles). An office hymn assigned for Advent, this chant was then well known in German-speaking areas. The same Latin hymn serves as the basis for Luther’s “Savior of the Nations, Come” (Nun komm’ der Heiden Heiland, TLH 95) and “Grant Peace, We Pray” (Verleih uns Frieden, LSB 778).            

Erhalt uns, Herr, bey deinem Wort                    Lord, keep us steadfast in Thy Word
Und stewr des Bapsts und Türken Mord.          and curb the murderous Pope and Turk
Die Jhesum Christum, deinen Son,                   who Jesus Christ, Thy Son
Wolten stürzen von deinem Thron.                    would thrust down from Thy throne.
 
Beweis dein Macht, Herr Jhesu Christ,             Show forth Thy might, Lord Jesus Christ;
Der du Herr aller Herren bist;                            for Thou art Lord of all Lords.
Beschirm dein arme Christenheit                      Protect Thine own poor Christendom,
Das sie dich lob in Ewigkeit!                              that it may praise Thee without end.
 
Gott heilger Geist, du Tröster werd,                  God, Holy Ghost, priceless Comforter,
Gib deim Volck einrley sinn auff Erd.                 give Thy people one mind on earth.
Sthe bey uns in der letzten Not.                        Stay with us in our final strife.
Gleit uns ins Leben aus dem Todt!                    Lead us out of death into life. 

The significance of this hymn goes beyond what is evident in The Lutheran Hymnal and other modern collections. For most of its history, it was considered a catechetical hymn. In three stanzas, it symbolizes the doctrine of the Trinity and summarizes the roots of the catechism. As in the Creeds, the three stanzas speak of God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost. Stanza 1 affirms the Word as the source of theology. In the 1544 Wittenberg hymnal, Erhalt uns Herr was placed after the six catechism hymns (the topics: ten commandments, creed, Lord’s Prayer, baptism, confession, Lord’s Supper; all but the baptism hymn found in TLH).  It was added to many editions of Luther’s Small Catechism with the heading “A Children’s Catechism Hymn.” It became part of the Catechismusexamen, which tested children of their knowledge of the faith. A much-loved hymn, it was widely sung at the end of public worship, usually before the benediction. Most modern Lutheran hymnals do not have a section dedicated to catechism hymns. In TLH Erhalt uns Herr appears in the section “Reformation”; LSB classifies it with “The Church Militant.” How fitting to hear it sung here by the “children” who attended a Lutheran youth gathering where worship was central to the event, rather than peripheral. 

Inevitably, Erhalt uns Herr was not without controversy. As one writer put it: “Luther did not mince words in this hymn.” In 1548 in Strassburg, singing the hymn was banned, and the penalty of violation was corporal punishment. In later years (17th-18th centuries), when the Muslim and Catholic threats had receded, different versions were written, in which the line with “murderous pope and Turk” was replaced with a statement about all the enemies of the church. Actually, today, Luther’s original language might again be suitable! In fact, the compilers of LSB received requests to reinstate it. Almost from the beginning, the text sparked imitations: hymns that began with the same or similar phrase, including one by Ludwig Helmbold (1532-98, author of some 100 Lutheran hymns): “Lord God, keep us for evermore / in plain catechism doctrine / that for the simple youth the world / through your Luther is made known.”  (Herr Gott, erhalt uns für und für / die schlechte Catechismus lehr, / Der jungen einfeltigen Welt / durch deinen Luther für gestelt, 1594) A Latin translation, Serva, Deus, verbum tuum, was also created (1544, Johann Stigel, crowned poet laureate by Charles V).
        
Over the years, the hymn was frequently expanded with more stanzas. Justus Jonas (a colleague of Luther in Wittenberg), added two, condemning the Council of Trent (1545-1563), which produced the Catholic response to Luther’s Reformation. The text was: “Destroy their onslaughts, Lord / and let them meet the same evil fate / let them fall into the snare / which for Thy Christians they prepare. //  So that  they may perceive / That Thou, our God, livest still, / And dost deliver mightily Thy flock / that dost put their trust in Thee.” (Jhr Anschleg, HERR, zu nichten mach / lass sie treffen die böse sach / Vnd stürtz sie in die gruben ein  / die sie machen den Christen dein. //  So werden sie erkennen doch / dass du, vnser Gott, lebest noch, / Vnd hilffst gewaltigk deiner schar / die sich auff dich verlasset gar.)  
 
The late 16th century brought about a third enemy for the list: the Calvinists. One version rendered the hymn as “Lord keep us steadfast in pure doctrine, a defense against the pope and Calvinist” (Erhalt uns Herr, bei reinem Lehr, dem Pabst und Calvinisten Wehr). Around 1590 an anonymous hymn to be sung to Luther’s melody parodied its first stanza as: “Lord keep us steadfast in thy Word / and curb the murderous Calvinist” (Erhalt uns Herr, bei deinem Wort, und steur des Calvinisten Mord). Probably published in Dresden, this hymn extended, as one writer noted, to a “staggering” 79 stanzas. Finally, the Catholic Church, which had lost many members to Lutheranism, blamed the enticing music of the new hymnody. Rather than produce their own catchy tunes, they adapted many Lutheran hymns for their own use. Where to find them? They just took them from published Lutheran collections. By tweaking a few words, they cleverly converted Lutheran texts into Catholic doctrine. To compile his hymnal Geistliche Lieder und Psalmen (1567), priest Johann Leisentritt borrowed from the Babstisches   Gesangbuch (1545), the last hymnal for which Luther contributed a preface. In Leisentritt’s version,  Erhalt uns Herr bey deinem Wort became “Lord, keep us steadfast by thy church, / protect us from all teachings of sects / thy church is one undivided / by thy cloak we know thee.” (Bey deiner Kirch erhalt uns Herr / behüt uns vor allr secten lehr / dein Kirch ist einig unzertrent / Bey deinem Rock man sie erkent.)  Along the way, Catholic versifiers also found ways to parody this popular hymn. From the early 18th century we have Erhalt uns Herr, bey deiner Wurst, sechs Maas die löschen einen den Durst (Lord keep us steadfast by thy sausage, six pints, they quench one’s thirst).
 
The last word, however, belongs to Luther, who always expected the devil’s tricks. The following poem appeared in the preface to the Klug hymnal (1543); it was reprinted on the title page of the Babstisches Gesangbuch:

​Dr. Jane Schatkin Hettrick, Director of Parish Music
Redeemer Lutheran Church
Bayside, New York
 
Professor Emeritus in Music
Rider University
 
Note: This article makes use of material from the chapter “Erhalt uns, Herr, bei deinem Wort” in Robin A. Leaver, Luther’s Liturgical Music and the entry “Lord, keep us steadfast in Your Word” in Joseph Herl, Peter C. Reske, and Jon D. Vieker, Lutheran Service Book: Companion to the Hymns, Volume 1. 

This prayer, intended to accompany the blessing of unborn children and their parents (courtesy of www.UnbornWordAlliance.com), expands on an aspect of the life and work of Christ that I had not considered in detail until I entered this small bookstore in Cambria, CA. We are all familiar with Luke’s infancy narrative, but have we stopped to consider that Jesus first came among us as the unborn Christ? How He was fully human, fully divine, and entirely unborn? And yet, the unborn Christ was no mere fetal tissue or clump of cells in the womb of the God-bearer. Rather, the yet unborn Christ was mighty to save us through childbearing. The Litany of the Unborn Christ Child concludes with three prayers, which will serve as the structure and musical inspiration for this issue of “Lifted Voice.” ​

It is common in the litany format to follow each petition with the Kyrie. This prayer connects the heart of Jesus in Mary’s womb to the heart “later emptied on the cross,” from whose tender mercies (misericordias Domini = “the merciful heart of the Lord”) we receive forgiveness for our own crimes against the unborn. How fitting for the country where Roe v. Wade (sixty million babies slaughtered) created a holocaust that makes Hitler’s efforts (six million Jews murdered) numerically tame by comparison! And so penitent sinners everywhere, confident in God’s merciful heart rather than their own sinful hearts, pray, “Lord, have mercy; Christ, have mercy; Lord, have mercy.”  

​Maurice Duruflé (1902–1986) was a French  composer,  organist, and teacher. His vocal output is a case of quality over quantity, with but a handful of choral works to his credit: one Requiem, four motets, one Mass, and one setting of the Lord’s Prayer. And yet, every single note is important, pregnant with musical merit and compositional genius. His setting of the Kyrie from Requiem, Opus 9, is based on a plainchant, heard here in augmented or long form in the brass section. The choir sings the melody, which is adapted from the plainchant. In my estimation, his use of the plainchant is liberating, rather than restricting, producing one of the most lyrical and captivating settings of the Kyrie in the history of sacred music.  
 ​

The language of this prayer echoes the content of Luke 1 and 2, including the good news that John and Christ were conceived in miraculous pregnancies (1:39–45) and that John would proclaim the salvation that would be fulfilled in Christ (1:76–79). Here is the antithesis to Eve giving birth to a murderer. Now, after long ages, life had come to Israel, even as all of Israel was reduced to two pregnancies. This message of peace and good will is for all men and is now proclaimed by all Christians, even when the unwanted are left on the door steps of Notre Dame Cathedral, as was the case with baby Quasimodo in Victor Hugo’s Hunchback of Notre Dame.  

The themes of peace and goodwill are evident in musical settings of Simeon’s canticle, which is sung as the Canticle at Vespers and Evening Prayer, after the Lord’s Supper, and of course within the Rite of Christian Burial. How important for grieving parents and communities to join Simeon to depart (i.e., to die) in peace, knowing that the deceased and the grieving have beheld salvation in the Christ child, and now rest in Him. Paul Smith’s setting--dissonant, ethereal, and sublime--captures the quiet confidence that the dying Christian has been granted in Christ alone. ​

That is to say, Eve is an icon of the consequences of the fall into sin, that is, pain in childbearing. In contrast to the first Eve, salvation arrived through the new and greater Eve, Mary, who gave birth to the Creator, who ushered in the New Creation. Thus woman is saved through the virgin birth of our Lord, to which all childbearing bears resemblance. Every child conceived in the womb has inherent worth and dignity every child is made in the image of God, which is mirrored in the face of Christ. The loss of a child is devastating to the descendants of Adam and Eve. But in Christ alone there is hope and healing, for He rescues our children from eternal death, grants the gifts of His mercy to all who grieve, and proclaims the message of peace and good will, even out of the mouths of babes.  ​

+ Jesus, conceived in love by God’s Spirit and the Virgin Mary / Have mercy upon us!  + ​