Grant peace, we pray, in mercy Lord;
Peace in our time, O send us!
Peace in our time, O send us!
—Martin Luther (after a Latin hymn)
Peter Bender describes the text of the Agnus Dei, “Lamb of God”:
[The Agnus Dei] is the fifth and final great hymn of the Divine Service. The words, “Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” were first spoken by John the Baptist in the public announcement of Jesus’ ministry. These words are the sum and substance of what our Lord came to do. (Lutheran Catechesis, p. 119)
In Christ, the Lamb of God, the two-part plan of the Passover is fulfilled: kill the lamb and eat the lamb. The death the of Lamb of God is a once-for-all, calendar-day event. But the eucharistic eating of the Lamb continues around the world until Christ returns. We are accustomed to singing the three-fold Agnus Dei one time, but Art Just notes the Medieval precedent for singing it ”as long as there was bread to break” (Christ’s Gifts in the Liturgy: The Theology and Music of the Divine Service, p. 41). How fitting that Jesus is described as the Lamb of God thirty times in the eschatology of the book of Revelation, where Jesus is enthroned as the Lamb who is worthy “to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing” (Rev. 5:12).
The Agnus Dei, then, fulfills at least three functions. It proclaims that Christ is the very Lamb of God, once slain for the sins of the world. The Agnus Dei preaches the good news (in the threefold acclamation, with optional repeats until the Supper is ended) that the Lamb slain is also the Lamb eaten. Finally, it reaches ahead to the end of days, when the Lamb will come again and bring us to the unending feast. It is no surprise that composers through the centuries, including Frank Martin (1890–1974) and Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872–1958), have made the most of this proclamation in their musical settings of the Agnus Dei.
Dale Warland describes Martin’s setting of the Agnus Dei: “[T]he two choirs sing much of the same material a half-beat apart. The gently jagged rhythm, the sad, sweet harmonies and the arching melodies make this concluding plea for mercy one of the most touching moments in the Mass” (ACC CD 120 liner notes). Singing a half-beat apart is known as stretto, which allows for imitation between the choirs, but results in lack of clarity in the texture, perhaps depicting the spiritual “dissonance” that the Lamb must be slain. Similarly, the sad and sweet harmonies might create an overtone of Jesus’ Passion. But the arching melodies are clear and serene, floating high above the dissonance to preach the good news that Jesus is the Lamb of God. Composers often “soften” their approach at the final plea, “Grant us peace,” even as Martin brings his setting down to earth in the closing moments.
What do you think is the most endearing trait of Martin’s setting of the Agnus Dei?
Dale Warland describes Martin’s setting of the Agnus Dei: “[T]he two choirs sing much of the same material a half-beat apart. The gently jagged rhythm, the sad, sweet harmonies and the arching melodies make this concluding plea for mercy one of the most touching moments in the Mass” (ACC CD 120 liner notes). Singing a half-beat apart is known as stretto, which allows for imitation between the choirs, but results in lack of clarity in the texture, perhaps depicting the spiritual “dissonance” that the Lamb must be slain. Similarly, the sad and sweet harmonies might create an overtone of Jesus’ Passion. But the arching melodies are clear and serene, floating high above the dissonance to preach the good news that Jesus is the Lamb of God. Composers often “soften” their approach at the final plea, “Grant us peace,” even as Martin brings his setting down to earth in the closing moments.
What do you think is the most endearing trait of Martin’s setting of the Agnus Dei?
| Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis, dona nobis pacem. | Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world: have mercy on us, grant us peace. |
As we conclude our tour of Frank Martin’s Mass, I recall conductor Ruben Valenzuela’s description of it as “a Renaissance motet lost in time, aware nonetheless of long centuries passing, and new horrors unfolding” (Bach Collegium San Diego program notes, February 2019). That is to say, Martin uses the centuries-old motet (French mot, “word”) technique of each voice imitating thematic material for each word or phrase of the text, but he also incorporates the harmonic and melodic techniques of his own time. For a 1970 performance, the eighty-year-old Martin said, “Let us hope that one may still find conviction, youth, and some beauty in this Mass which is almost half a century old” (ACC CD 120 liner notes). It is now a century old, and I say a hearty “Amen, amen!” to his sentiment.
Ralph Vaughan Williams (RVW) was also writing his Agnus Dei between the world wars, but with one very important difference from Martin: RVW served in World War I. Contributors to Grove Music Online note that despite his age—he was forty-two in 1914—RVW volunteered for military service, joining the Royal Army Medical Corps as a private. In this capacity he drove ambulance wagons in France and later in Greece. Old enough to be the father of many corpsmen, the work must have been physically punishing. The war of course left its emotional mark on RVW, who lost many friends and cohorts.
But there is more. In 1917 RVW was commissioned as a lieutenant in the Royal Artillery, seeing action in France from March 1918. The continual noise of the guns damaged his hearing and led to deafness in his later years. After the armistice in 1918 he served as director of music for the British First Army until February 1919. Writing in the May 2022 RVW anniversary issue of BBC Music Magazine, Stephen Johnson summarizes the impact of war on RVW: “[H]is traumatic experience as a medical orderly in the trenches in the First World War was to cast a colossal shadow over many of his major works” (p. 26).
As a combat veteran, the petition “Grant us peace” at the end of the Agnus Dei carried a special meaning for RVW. (He also wrote a major work for chorus and orchestra, Dona Nobis Pacem, which the reader might wish to explore.) Throughout the Agnus Dei there is a strong sense of pleading and urgency, from a composer who knew something about bloodshed, combat, and making the ultimate sacrifice. The phrase “Grant us peace” is but the last three words of the text of the Agnus Dei, but it occupies nearly half of RVW’s music. One reviewer captured it well: “The warmest flush of emotional colour is held back with art until the Agnus Dei, and there the composer has allowed himself a lyric utterance which tells admirably, and the Mass ends with this cry still in the air” (The Musical Times 64:959, p. 37).
As you listen to the “warmest flush of emotional colour,” consider the emotive power of this music in the wake of war and our parallel petitions for peace in the Divine Service.
Ralph Vaughan Williams (RVW) was also writing his Agnus Dei between the world wars, but with one very important difference from Martin: RVW served in World War I. Contributors to Grove Music Online note that despite his age—he was forty-two in 1914—RVW volunteered for military service, joining the Royal Army Medical Corps as a private. In this capacity he drove ambulance wagons in France and later in Greece. Old enough to be the father of many corpsmen, the work must have been physically punishing. The war of course left its emotional mark on RVW, who lost many friends and cohorts.
But there is more. In 1917 RVW was commissioned as a lieutenant in the Royal Artillery, seeing action in France from March 1918. The continual noise of the guns damaged his hearing and led to deafness in his later years. After the armistice in 1918 he served as director of music for the British First Army until February 1919. Writing in the May 2022 RVW anniversary issue of BBC Music Magazine, Stephen Johnson summarizes the impact of war on RVW: “[H]is traumatic experience as a medical orderly in the trenches in the First World War was to cast a colossal shadow over many of his major works” (p. 26).
As a combat veteran, the petition “Grant us peace” at the end of the Agnus Dei carried a special meaning for RVW. (He also wrote a major work for chorus and orchestra, Dona Nobis Pacem, which the reader might wish to explore.) Throughout the Agnus Dei there is a strong sense of pleading and urgency, from a composer who knew something about bloodshed, combat, and making the ultimate sacrifice. The phrase “Grant us peace” is but the last three words of the text of the Agnus Dei, but it occupies nearly half of RVW’s music. One reviewer captured it well: “The warmest flush of emotional colour is held back with art until the Agnus Dei, and there the composer has allowed himself a lyric utterance which tells admirably, and the Mass ends with this cry still in the air” (The Musical Times 64:959, p. 37).
As you listen to the “warmest flush of emotional colour,” consider the emotive power of this music in the wake of war and our parallel petitions for peace in the Divine Service.
As we conclude our five-part journey through these two “choral companions,” consider how the Agnus Dei brings together the themes of the ordinary of the Mass. The phrases “Lamb of God,” “You take away the sin of the world,” and “have mercy on us” are also present in the Gloria. The details of Christ’s work as the Lamb of God are articulated in the Creed. The Agnus Dei is united with the Sanctus by their proximity both in the book of Revelation (4:8 [Sanctus] and 4:11 [echoes of the Agnus Dei]) and by their relative proximity in the Communion liturgy. But the most profound intertextuality of these texts is probably the connection between the Kyrie-Litany (“In peace let us pray to the Lord / Lord, have mercy,” etc.) and the Agnus Dei. Arthur Just writes, “[T]he Agnus Dei ends as the Kyrie began, with the petition for peace. Peace describes the condition of the faithful in the Divine Service from beginning to end, and the Lord who joins earth to heaven together in peace now gives the Prince of Peace into the mouths of the communicants” (Christ’s Gifts in the Liturgy, p. 42).
To be sure, these two very challenging settings of the Mass are unlikely to be heard outside the concert hall. But Martin Luther’s adaptation of a Medieval hymn, especially fitting for a world at war, gives us a corporate voice to petition God for the peace that surpasses all understanding:
To be sure, these two very challenging settings of the Mass are unlikely to be heard outside the concert hall. But Martin Luther’s adaptation of a Medieval hymn, especially fitting for a world at war, gives us a corporate voice to petition God for the peace that surpasses all understanding:
Grant peace, we pray, in mercy, Lord;
Peace in our time, O send us!
For there is none on earth but You,
None other to defend us.
You only, Lord, can fight for us. Amen. (Lutheran Service Book 778)
Extra Choral Credit:
Hearing Martin’s Entire Mass
Featuring the Dale Warland Singers
I would like to end this five-part series with the choir whose recording of the Martin first set me on a journey to explore both Martin’s and, in time, RVW’s setting of the ordinary of the Mass: The Dale Warland Singers. This forty-voice, professional choir was established in 1972 and disbanded in 2004, following Warland’s retirement and financial hardship. Based in St. Paul, Minnesota, their clarity of diction, depth of tone, and love for exploring new music (they commissioned 270 works during their thirty-two-year history) have earned them a legendary place in the choral arts.
Writing in the April 1996 issue of The Musical Times, one reviewer describes their recording of the Martin as “a truly magnificent performance . . . an excellent sound for this repertoire, a rich bass section helped by a very resonant acoustic . . . . ” (p. 41). Listen to the first five tracks on this playlist to hear the entire Martin, and stick around for some more choral gems if you are so inclined. Since the Dale Warland Singers were founded fifty years ago, I will devote at least two more columns to their recordings of sacred music before the year closes.
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtrL_5glUQF13PIJpL2jWx5Zx3PFXxDNE
Writing in the April 1996 issue of The Musical Times, one reviewer describes their recording of the Martin as “a truly magnificent performance . . . an excellent sound for this repertoire, a rich bass section helped by a very resonant acoustic . . . . ” (p. 41). Listen to the first five tracks on this playlist to hear the entire Martin, and stick around for some more choral gems if you are so inclined. Since the Dale Warland Singers were founded fifty years ago, I will devote at least two more columns to their recordings of sacred music before the year closes.
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtrL_5glUQF13PIJpL2jWx5Zx3PFXxDNE
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