In [this confession of faith] we shall appear before the judgment throne of Jesus Christ,
by God’s grace, with fearless hearts and thus give account of our faith …
by God’s grace, with fearless hearts and thus give account of our faith …
— Formula of Concord
On Trinity Sunday (June 11th), the church will confess the Athanasian Creed, which focuses on the doctrine of the Trinity and the two natures in Christ. J. S. Bach (1685-1750) did not write a musical setting of the lengthy Athanasian Creed, so we will be content to explore the first three movements of Bach’s setting of the Nicene Creed in The Mass in B-Minor, which focus on God the Father and God the Son:
| Credo in unum deum Patrem Omnipotentem Et in unum Dominum | I believe in one God The Father Almighty And in one Lord [Jesus Christ] |
The opening statement of the Creed, Credo in unum Deum, is based on the first phrase of the following plain chant setting of the Creed (0:00—0:04):
Credo in unum Deum (I believe in one God), etc.
Now listen to the nearly identical opening statement (known as the incipit), sung by the current Kantor of St. Thomas Leipzig, Kantor Georg Christopher Biller, before he gives the downbeat to the first movement of the Credo (0:00—0:07):
| Credo in unum Deum. | I believe in one God. |
Did you hear the similarity of these two short statements? The use of a familiar plain chant emphasizes the catholicity of the Creed, i.e., the good news that the doctrine of the Nicene Creed is believed everywhere, by everyone, at every time. And yet, as you listened to the entire movement, could you hear the theme passing from voice to voice and from instrument to instrument? The imitative procedure proceeds in the following order: tenor, bass, alto, soprano I, soprano II, violin I, and violin II. The dense texture almost sounds like the catholic faith is being passed from one generation to another, world without end! This compositional technique is known as a canon, a musical form in which each voice strictly imitates the previous voice, but perhaps starting on a different pitch or in a different octave. So where the use of plain chant stresses the catholicity of the Creed, the use of the canon stresses the immutability of the Creed. Like the Trinitarian God that it confesses, the doctrine in the Creed is to be confessed, not changed. As the Athanasian Creed puts it, “Whoever desire to be saved must, above all, hold the catholic faith.”
A brief word is fitting at this point in our study about number symbolism (often falsely called “numerology”) in the Creed. Bach sometimes used the numerical representation of the alphabet (A=1, B=2, etc., with I/J and U/V combined in German) to embed number symbolism into his music. With this alpha-numeric formula in mind, the word “Credo” has a numerical value of 43. It is no coincidence that the word “Credo” is sung 43 times in this short movement. Moreover, there are a total of 129 measures in this movement and its companion, Patrem Omnipotentem, which may reflect 43 (the number of “Credo”) x 3 (the number of persons in the Trinity). I have spent precious little time on number symbolism since it is much easier to see than to hear, but faithful students of Bach should know that there is number symbolism in every movement of the Credo!
Now listen to the next movement, Patrem Omnipotenten, and hear a musical depiction of the strength and majesty of the Maker of heaven and earth:
A brief word is fitting at this point in our study about number symbolism (often falsely called “numerology”) in the Creed. Bach sometimes used the numerical representation of the alphabet (A=1, B=2, etc., with I/J and U/V combined in German) to embed number symbolism into his music. With this alpha-numeric formula in mind, the word “Credo” has a numerical value of 43. It is no coincidence that the word “Credo” is sung 43 times in this short movement. Moreover, there are a total of 129 measures in this movement and its companion, Patrem Omnipotentem, which may reflect 43 (the number of “Credo”) x 3 (the number of persons in the Trinity). I have spent precious little time on number symbolism since it is much easier to see than to hear, but faithful students of Bach should know that there is number symbolism in every movement of the Credo!
Now listen to the next movement, Patrem Omnipotenten, and hear a musical depiction of the strength and majesty of the Maker of heaven and earth:
| Patrem omnipotentem, Factorem coeli et terrae, Visibilium omnium et invisibilium | The Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible. |
Notice how the basses, highlighted at the bottom of the score in violet, introduce a new melody that will be developed in this brief movement. Follow the violet color coding as the new melody gradually rises from the bass line and ascends through all of the voices until it supplants the Credo in unum Deum as the dominant theme. Here the Fatherhood and omnipotence of God are depicted in the men’s voices, which function as the source or musical “father” of the new melody. The Creedal language of “heaven and earth” and “all things visible and invisible” is evident in the increased scoring from the previous movement, adding trumpets, timpani, and oboes, as if all creation is praising its Maker.
But see how the vocal scoring is for four parts, SATB, in contrast to the usual five-part scoring (SSATB) in most movements of the Mass. The surprise, however, is that there is a fifth part that functions in the thematic development, but it is the trumpet. Notice at 0:39 how the trumpet (see the top line of the score, labeled “Tromba”) enters with opening statement of the main theme, but then quickly climbs into the stratosphere, until the trumpet suddenly becomes musically “invisible” (1:00 in this video). This is an ingenuous depiction of “all things visible and invisible.” At 1:24, the trumpet returns, followed by the other two trumpets (do they symbolize the Trinity?), and once again the unexpected fifth voice of this movement becomes musically “visible.”
Following this movement on the majesty of the Father, the instrumentation and vocal scoring change significantly to depict His only-begotten Son. This duet for soprano and alto (or countertenor, as in the next video) is accompanied by two oboes, strings, and continuo (i.e., harpsichord and cello). For this duet, I invite you to return to the balcony of Bach’s own St. Thomas Leipzig, along with the musical descendents of his own choir. As you watch and listen, please ponder the Christological significance of the following pairs: two oboes, two violins, and two singers.
But see how the vocal scoring is for four parts, SATB, in contrast to the usual five-part scoring (SSATB) in most movements of the Mass. The surprise, however, is that there is a fifth part that functions in the thematic development, but it is the trumpet. Notice at 0:39 how the trumpet (see the top line of the score, labeled “Tromba”) enters with opening statement of the main theme, but then quickly climbs into the stratosphere, until the trumpet suddenly becomes musically “invisible” (1:00 in this video). This is an ingenuous depiction of “all things visible and invisible.” At 1:24, the trumpet returns, followed by the other two trumpets (do they symbolize the Trinity?), and once again the unexpected fifth voice of this movement becomes musically “visible.”
Following this movement on the majesty of the Father, the instrumentation and vocal scoring change significantly to depict His only-begotten Son. This duet for soprano and alto (or countertenor, as in the next video) is accompanied by two oboes, strings, and continuo (i.e., harpsichord and cello). For this duet, I invite you to return to the balcony of Bach’s own St. Thomas Leipzig, along with the musical descendents of his own choir. As you watch and listen, please ponder the Christological significance of the following pairs: two oboes, two violins, and two singers.
| Et in unum Dominum Iesum Christum, Filium Dei unigenitum, ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula. Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Deum verum de Deo vero, genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri; per quem omnia facta sunt. Qui propter nos hominess et propter nostram salutem descendit de coelis. | And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of the Father before all worlds. God of God, light of light, very God of very God. Begotten, not made, of one substance with the Father, by whom all things were made. Who for us men and for our salvation descended from heaven. |
Did you hear any of the duets? The oboes start in unison, but then break into two complementary parts. The violins play about one beat apart in the opening measure, but with slightly different articulation (staccato in Violin I, but legato in Violin II). The voices follow a similar pattern, with the adult soprano usually singing about one beat ahead of the young countertenor. What does this unique combination of sameness and two-ness, of unity and dissimilarity, mean? Here we have depicted in musical form the One who is “of one substance with the Father” (consubstantialem Patri), yet still a distinct person in His own right. The lead voice of each pair reminds us of the eternal and unchanging Father, and the second voice of each duet reminds us of His only-begotten Son. Here the words of the Athanasian Creed come to life: “[Jesus Christ] is God, begotten from the substance of the Father before all ages [like the first voice in each duet]; and He is man born from the substance of His mother in this age [as the second voice is “born” of the first voice].”
But notice how Bach briefly departs from this “step parallelism” of one voice leading the other at 3:04 for four measures of textual unison on these words: Deum verum de Deo vero, de Deo vero (“very God of very God”). This is the only time in this movement that the text is vertically aligned for an entire phrase of text. This unique device on the words “very God of very God” places a unique stress on the Divinity of the Son of God, a musical and theological accent that squares perfectly with the content and confession of the Nicene Creed. To be sure, I have generally called this section of the B Minor “Credo” as musical short hand, but Bach actually labeled it Symbolum Nicenum, the Symbol [i.e., confession] of Nicea, whose primary reason for existence was a staunch defense of the Divinity of the Son of God: “God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God.”
The Credo of the B Minor, which we have now explored in its entirety over the last year and a half, holds a unique place as Bach’s musical last will and testament. The Credo was written late in Bach’s life, not long before his death in 1750. In contrast to some other movements of the B Minor, it was not performed in Bach’s lifetime, and yet it was the object of his creative output and compositional energy, even while other works, including The Art of the Fugue, remained unfinished. The Credo was for Bach a confession that He was baptized into the Trinity, that he had lived to the greater glory of the Trinity, and that he would soon die in the name of the Trinity. If the Credo was his last musical confession, then the following prayer, later known as his “deathbed chorale,” was perhaps his last spoken confession. It is the prayer of all who believe in the Father Almighty, who are baptized into one Lord Jesus Christ, and who shall appear before His judgment throne with a fearless heart:
But notice how Bach briefly departs from this “step parallelism” of one voice leading the other at 3:04 for four measures of textual unison on these words: Deum verum de Deo vero, de Deo vero (“very God of very God”). This is the only time in this movement that the text is vertically aligned for an entire phrase of text. This unique device on the words “very God of very God” places a unique stress on the Divinity of the Son of God, a musical and theological accent that squares perfectly with the content and confession of the Nicene Creed. To be sure, I have generally called this section of the B Minor “Credo” as musical short hand, but Bach actually labeled it Symbolum Nicenum, the Symbol [i.e., confession] of Nicea, whose primary reason for existence was a staunch defense of the Divinity of the Son of God: “God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God.”
The Credo of the B Minor, which we have now explored in its entirety over the last year and a half, holds a unique place as Bach’s musical last will and testament. The Credo was written late in Bach’s life, not long before his death in 1750. In contrast to some other movements of the B Minor, it was not performed in Bach’s lifetime, and yet it was the object of his creative output and compositional energy, even while other works, including The Art of the Fugue, remained unfinished. The Credo was for Bach a confession that He was baptized into the Trinity, that he had lived to the greater glory of the Trinity, and that he would soon die in the name of the Trinity. If the Credo was his last musical confession, then the following prayer, later known as his “deathbed chorale,” was perhaps his last spoken confession. It is the prayer of all who believe in the Father Almighty, who are baptized into one Lord Jesus Christ, and who shall appear before His judgment throne with a fearless heart:
| Before your throne I now appear, O God, and humbly bid you, turn not your gracious face from me, a poor sinner. Confer on me a blessed end, on the last day awaken me, Lord, that I may see you eternally; Amen, amen, hear me. |
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Addendum: Click on the following link to enjoy all three movements that we explored in this issue of “Lifted Voice,” performed sequentially in the balcony of St. Thomas Leipzig, where Bach served as Kantor from 1723 until his death in 1750. The choir standing behind the professional orchestra is the famous boy choir of St. Thomas, known in German as Die Thomaner. The ensemble, which of course Bach himself conducted, was founded in 1212 and consists entirely of boys from 9 to 18 years of age.
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