The heart opens [in the Kyrie of the B-Minor Mass]
and it leads us to the hill of the crucified one.
and it leads us to the hill of the crucified one.
— Carl Hermann Bitter (Bach biographer)
In 1962, at the height of the Cuban missile crisis and U. S.-Soviet tensions, the late choral conductor, Robert Shaw (1916-1999), led his famed Robert Shaw Chorale on a six-week tour of Russia. They performed three different programs of choral literature, but the biggest hit was the Mass in B-Minor of J. S. Bach (1685-1750), which often held audiences well beyond the final curtain call. Shaw recalled leaving the stage in Moscow, for instance, after numerous encores, then changing clothes and returning to the hall for one last look. To his amazement, the audience was still in the theatre, some thirty minutes after the conclusion of the concert. And they were standing in silence! (Keith C. Burris, Deep River: The Life and Music of Robert Shaw, pp. 122-123)
How did the masterwork that still captivates audiences and fascinates scholars come to exist? Recall from the April 2016 installment of “Lifted Voice” that the complete B-Minor Mass (Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei) was compiled by Bach just before his death in 1750 as a musical last will and testament. The first two sections, the Kyrie (the focus of this column) and the Gloria, however, were originally composed as a Missa Brevis -- a “Brief Mass” or “Lutheran Mass” -- in 1733 during a period of respite from church music that followed the death of the Elector of Saxony. Later that year, Bach presented the score to the new ruler, along with a dedication that indicated his desire to become the court composer. (The title was granted three years later, but at a disappointing salary.) It is possible, but by no means certain, that the Kyrie-Gloria Mass was performed in Leipzig in April 1733 after the period of mourning, and perhaps again in Dresden in July of the same year. If indeed it was performed in Leipzig, then it would have looked and sounded something like the following performance from St. Thomas Leipzig, where Bach served from 1723 until his death in 1750:
Kyrie I: Kyrie eleison + Lord, have mercy
The first four measures are a corporate plea to God the Father: “Ky-rie-e, Ky-ri-e, Ky-ri-e e-le-i-son!” Conductor John Eliot Gardiner was no doubt correct in saying, “The inscribing of that initial three-fold Kyrie in sound at the outset of Bach’s B minor Mass seems almost a physical act, one in which each of us – as listener or performer – is individually or collectively involved.” The opening chord, with all voices and instruments joining together, is a bold statement of faith and solemn invocation of God. After these opening bars, an immense solemn fugue begins, with elaborate statements, expositions, and developments, and yet one that bears with it a measured sense of prayer, reverence, and dignity before the Lord. “We soon realize that we have been launched on one of the most epic of all journeys in music, a setting of the Ordinary of the Mass unprecedented in its scale, majesty and sobriety.” (John Eliot Gardiner, Bach: Music in the Castle of Heaven, p. 479)
In contrast to the full use of instruments, voices, and even musical forms, listen to the comparably transparent duet for treble voices and a handful of instruments on the words, “Christ, have mercy”. This is also one of few movement of the entire B Minor that is accessible to the parish that is blessed with a reasonably accomplished organist and one or more good treble voices for each vocal line:
In contrast to the full use of instruments, voices, and even musical forms, listen to the comparably transparent duet for treble voices and a handful of instruments on the words, “Christ, have mercy”. This is also one of few movement of the entire B Minor that is accessible to the parish that is blessed with a reasonably accomplished organist and one or more good treble voices for each vocal line:
Christe: Christe eleison + Christ, have mercy
The use of the Greek form of the title “Christ” suggests a Trinitarian shape to the Kyrie, as it is embodied in the following German hymn, Kyrie, Gott Vater, well known among Lutherans from Luther to Bach:
This Trinitarian text also demonstrates how the Kyrie is Christ-centered. See, for instance, how the second stanza of the hymn is the longest of the three and includes the greatest number of regal titles (Christ, king, God’s own Son, mediator) for the second person of the Trinity. So why did Bach chose to set the Christe movement, with its focus on God the Son, as a duet? The only other duet in the Kyrie-Gloria Mass was for the following words of the Gloria: “O Lord God, heavenly King, God the Father Almighty. O Lord, the only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ; O Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father.” See how this text praises the Father and the Son. Similarly, the Christe addresses the Son as Christ, just after a prayer to the Father. Is it possible that Bach chose the duet, a two-voice form, to depict the mutual indwelling of Father and Son, and therefore the Divine and human natures of Christ? Set against the duet are the first and second violins in unison, which might depict the unity of the two natures, Divine and human, in the one person of Christ. Whatever Bach might have intended, the two-in-oneness is unmistakably present in the Christe.
The final Kyrie, sometimes called Kyrie II, returns to a minor key and to the full complement of voices and instruments in the traditional, imitative style of sixteenth-century church music:
- Kyrie! God, Father in heav’n above, You abound in gracious love, Of all things the maker and preserver. Eleison! Eleison!
- Kyrie! O Christ, our king, Salvation for all You came to bring. O Lord Jesus, God’s own Son, Our mediator at the heav’nly throne: Hear our cry and grant our supplication. Eleison! Eleison!
- Kyrie! O God the Holy Ghost, Guard our faith, the gift we need the most, And bless our life’s last hour, That we leave this sinful world with gladness. Eleison! Eleison!
(Lutheran Service Book [LSB] #942; emphasis added)
This Trinitarian text also demonstrates how the Kyrie is Christ-centered. See, for instance, how the second stanza of the hymn is the longest of the three and includes the greatest number of regal titles (Christ, king, God’s own Son, mediator) for the second person of the Trinity. So why did Bach chose to set the Christe movement, with its focus on God the Son, as a duet? The only other duet in the Kyrie-Gloria Mass was for the following words of the Gloria: “O Lord God, heavenly King, God the Father Almighty. O Lord, the only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ; O Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father.” See how this text praises the Father and the Son. Similarly, the Christe addresses the Son as Christ, just after a prayer to the Father. Is it possible that Bach chose the duet, a two-voice form, to depict the mutual indwelling of Father and Son, and therefore the Divine and human natures of Christ? Set against the duet are the first and second violins in unison, which might depict the unity of the two natures, Divine and human, in the one person of Christ. Whatever Bach might have intended, the two-in-oneness is unmistakably present in the Christe.
The final Kyrie, sometimes called Kyrie II, returns to a minor key and to the full complement of voices and instruments in the traditional, imitative style of sixteenth-century church music:
Kyrie II: Kyrie eleison + Lord, have mercy
I have already offered Hamer’s hypotheses that the Bach’s Kyrie is (1) Trinitarian in its structure and (2) Christological in its content. I would like to propose one last interpretation, which I believe is embodied in final Kyrie: The Kyrie is a comprehensive prayer of the church. As Bach’s musical setting of the entire Kyrie uses a broad variety of forms and forces (it takes about 16 minutes to sing six words!), so this historic prayer of the church petitions the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for the fullness of the gifts of the Godhead. The passionate plea of the opening four measures, the fugal expositions and developments, the charming duet in the Christe, and the sixteenth-century motet style of the final Kyrie – these all seem to join together to offer the petitions that are known to many today from the Litany:
| O Lord, have mercy. O Christ, have mercy. O Lord, have mercy. O Christ, hear us. God the Father in heaven, have mercy. God the Son, Redeemer of the world, have mercy. God the Holy Spirit, have mercy. Be gracious to us. Spare us, good Lord. Be gracious to us. Help us, good Lord. From all sin, from all error, from all evil; From the crafts and assaults of the devil; from sudden and evil death … (LSB, p. 288) |
This is just a portion of the Litany that unfolds the full meaning of the Kyrie. Petitions are included throughout the Litany for the church, for the fallen, for good government, for our enemies, and for much, much more. Congregational responses for the Lord to deliver, help, and hear us are woven through the petitions, before returning to the Kyrie at the conclusion of this comprehensive and all-embracing prayer.
It has been just over fifty years since Robert Shaw was shocked to see an audience linger for 30 minutes after a performance of the B Minor Mass in Moscow, even though Soviet authorities usually censored such art as part of their misguided nationalism. The success of the B-Minor Mass behind the Iron Curtain should not surprise us, however, for it is the gospel set to music, and the gospel always thrives under pressure. In this regard, Bach’s setting of the Kyrie, a musical litany in its own right, could not be more timely for our own day. How do the righteous respond when the very foundation of our society has collapsed under the federalization of same-sex “marriage”? Rather than trust in princes, who are but mortal, the faithful watch and pray. And the Kyrie of Bach’s B-Minor Mass can lead the way in our Trinitarian, Christ-centered, and comprehensive plea for Divine clemency: “Lord, have mercy!”
Nota Bene: To hear the Kyrie in the context of the entire B Minor Mass, please enjoy the following performance on period instruments from BBC Proms:
It has been just over fifty years since Robert Shaw was shocked to see an audience linger for 30 minutes after a performance of the B Minor Mass in Moscow, even though Soviet authorities usually censored such art as part of their misguided nationalism. The success of the B-Minor Mass behind the Iron Curtain should not surprise us, however, for it is the gospel set to music, and the gospel always thrives under pressure. In this regard, Bach’s setting of the Kyrie, a musical litany in its own right, could not be more timely for our own day. How do the righteous respond when the very foundation of our society has collapsed under the federalization of same-sex “marriage”? Rather than trust in princes, who are but mortal, the faithful watch and pray. And the Kyrie of Bach’s B-Minor Mass can lead the way in our Trinitarian, Christ-centered, and comprehensive plea for Divine clemency: “Lord, have mercy!”
Nota Bene: To hear the Kyrie in the context of the entire B Minor Mass, please enjoy the following performance on period instruments from BBC Proms:
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