Difference between revisions of "Sermon for October 6th, 2024"
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When Bach sat down to write music, he would often begin by writing two words across the top of the blank page: Jesu Juva. It’s Latin for “Jesus help me.” This is, of course, the prayer of all students writing papers, staring at the blank page. But Bach took the time to spell it out in writing, and he kept doing this throughout his life, long after his student days, when no one doubted his ability to compose excellent music. Jesus, help me. And when Jesus did help him, when the piece was complete, he would give the credit back to God, writing at the bottom of the musical score the words, Soli Dei Gloria, which is Latin for “Glory to God Alone.” | When Bach sat down to write music, he would often begin by writing two words across the top of the blank page: Jesu Juva. It’s Latin for “Jesus help me.” This is, of course, the prayer of all students writing papers, staring at the blank page. But Bach took the time to spell it out in writing, and he kept doing this throughout his life, long after his student days, when no one doubted his ability to compose excellent music. Jesus, help me. And when Jesus did help him, when the piece was complete, he would give the credit back to God, writing at the bottom of the musical score the words, Soli Dei Gloria, which is Latin for “Glory to God Alone.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Where does that kind of faithful devotion to God come from? For Bach, I think a lot of it came from a lifetime of careful study of the Bible, the scriptures of the Old and New Testament. When Bach was appointed as the music director St. Thomas church in Leipzig, he formed an ambitious plan to compose a cantata (a piece meant for singing) for every Sunday and every Holiday of the church calendar. And in Germany at the time, the church was on a five year liturgical calendar, so that would have been around 300 cantatas, each one in several movements, and each movement based on the scripture passages for the particular day. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The piece we’re going to hear next (and I’m very happy that Kris Boyea is joining us to sing it) is based on one small verse from the Magnificat—the prayer of Mary when she greets her cousin Elizabeth in the first chapter of Luke. The text in Latin, is simply “ Et exultavit spiritus meus | ||
| + | in Deo salutari meo.” (and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior). Bach only completed about 2/3rds of his planned cantatas, but in this slow and painstaking way, he composed music for large portions of the Bible, sometimes one small verse at a time. | ||
*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZVZB_EZlu8 Et Exultavit Spiritus Meus] | *[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZVZB_EZlu8 Et Exultavit Spiritus Meus] | ||
| − | + | In Bach’s library, at the time of his death, there were several theology books, including all of Martin Luther’s works, and Luther’s three-volume translation of the Bible in German. In that Bible, on almost every page, are scores of notes and comments in Bach’s own handwriting, and even corrections where the printer of the Bible had made errors that Bach caught, or places where Bach thought an older edition was better. That’s how well he knew his Bible! One of my favorite notes is the one he wrote in the margin next to 1st Chronicles 25–our first scripture reading today, the one that lists the leaders of worship in the tabernacle of ancient Israel, and all of their musical children (something I think Bach and I could both identify with). Bach wrote next to that verse, “This chapter is the true foundation of all God-pleasing music.” I love that it’s a passage about families singing and playing together. | |
| − | + | ||
| + | Our final piece—and it is a grand finale in the truest sense—is called Fantasia in G. Vanessa, who knows Bach’s music far better than I do, helped to pick most of the music for this series, and I want to read her explanation for this particular piece: | ||
| + | |||
| + | “My idea to include this one was to highlight Bach’s creativity, and over the last part showcase his chromaticism. There are a lot of scriptural passages that relate to creativity [and the] works of man. I believe that when man is at his purest state, most at peace with God and his surroundings, that creativity is more natural and flowing. Bach must have felt secure not only in his work posting, but had the time and inclination to write other works that weren’t necessarily liturgical in nature . . . exploring the full use of the instruments he was working with and the limits of 18th century tonality.” | ||
*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_Nu2cDYvUQ Fantasia in G] | *[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_Nu2cDYvUQ Fantasia in G] | ||
| − | + | I want to end the series with two things: First, with some words from Bach’s most famous biographer, Albert Schweitzer (who was a famous theologian, musician and missionary doctor in his own right). Then second, with a challenge to us that is inherent in Bach’s music and message. But first, Scwheitzer, who writes that “Music is an act of worship with Bach. His artistic activity and his personality are both based on his piety. If he is to be understood from any standpoint at all, it is from this. For him, art was religion, and so had no concern with the world or with worldly success. It was an end in itself. Bach includes religion in the definition of art in general. All great art, even secular, is in itself religious in his eyes; for him the tones do not perish, but ascend to God like praise too deep for utterance.” | |
| − | + | And here’s my challenge: Bach is, according to many (if not most), the greatest musician and composer in history, although he certainly didn’t think of himself that way. It seems pretty clear to me that his greatness, his passion, his inspiration, his excellence, and his humility—all spring directly from one source: His faith in God, his devotion to his savior, and his love of his neighbor (which are all, essentially the same thing). | |
| − | + | So… What’s your source? What’s your inspiration? Where does your passion come from? Is it something small and finite? Something that will not sustain you through a lifetime, or that will not last long after you are gone? Because if that’s the case, I have some good news: The God who smiled upon Johann Sebastian Bach is the same God who smiles upon you, who loves you and is calling you into a deeper knowledge of him. And the more you grow into that relationship, the more your music, your talent, your God-given calling will shine for all the world to see. Of course, when it does, you might do well to give credit where credit is due: Soli Deo Gloria. Glory to God alone. | |
Latest revision as of 22:28, 5 October 2024
1 Chronicles 25:1-8
1 David and the officers of the army also set apart for the service the sons of Asaph, and of Heman, and of Jeduthun, who should prophesy with lyres, harps, and cymbals. The list of those who did the work and of their duties was: 2 Of the sons of Asaph: Zaccur, Joseph, Nethaniah, and Asarelah, sons of Asaph, under the direction of Asaph, who prophesied under the direction of the king. 3 Of Jeduthun, the sons of Jeduthun: Gedaliah, Zeri, Jeshaiah, Shimei, Hashabiah, and Mattithiah, six, under the direction of their father Jeduthun, who prophesied with the lyre in thanksgiving and praise to the Lord. 4 Of Heman, the sons of Heman: Bukkiah, Mattaniah, Uzziel, Shebuel, and Jerimoth, Hananiah, Hanani, Eliathah, Giddalti, and Romamti-ezer, Joshbekashah, Mallothi, Hothir, Mahazioth. 5 All these were the sons of Heman the king’s seer, according to the promise of God to exalt him, for God had given Heman fourteen sons and three daughters. 6 They were all under the direction of their father for the music in the house of the Lord with cymbals, harps, and lyres for the service of the house of God. Asaph, Jeduthun, and Heman were under the order of the king. 7 They and their kindred, who were trained in singing to the Lord, all of whom were skillful, numbered two hundred eighty-eight. 8 And they cast lots for their duties, small and great, teacher and pupil alike.
Matthew 22:34-40
34 When the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, 35 and one of them, an expert in the law, asked him a question to test him. 36 “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” 37 He said to him, “ ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the greatest and first commandment. 39 And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”
Soli Deo Gloria: The Music & Message of Johann Sebastian Bach - Part III
For the past few weeks, we’ve been talking about the Music & Message of Johann Sebastian Bach, who is regarded as one of history’s greatest musicians and composers. The first week, I talked about my own personal connection to his music and ways it has intersected with my life at various points. Last week, we delved into the ways Bach’s music connects with all of us. I also shared some of Vanessa’s story, and her lifelong connection with Bach. This week, as we conclude, I want to focus on the special connection that Bach himself had with God, his creator, and with Jesus, his Lord and chief musical inspiration.
The piece that Vanessa is about to play for us is called in German, “Ich Ruf Zu Dir, Herr Jesu,” or in English, “I Call to Thee, Lord Jesus.” Like many of Bach’s chorales, the song is based on an old Lutheran hymn. Before we listen to it, I want to read to you the words to that hymn—Bach himself did not compose the words (and I’m reading from an English translation of them) but he did make the words come to life with his music. In order to do that well, he had to understand them, embrace them, and inhabit them:
I call to thee, Lord Jesus Christ, O hear my sore complaining! In thy good time unto me list, thine ear to me inclining. True faith in thee, O Lord I seek; O make me now and wholly Love thee solely, my neighbor hold as self, and keep thy word e’er holy
The last lines of that text—to love God solely, and to hold my neighbor as myself—these are a reflection of what Jesus called the greatest commandments, the foundation upon which all faith is built. For Johann Sebastian Bach, though, it wasn’t just someone else’s words set to music. When he wrote a textbook for organists called Orgelbuchlein (the Little Organ Book), he inscribed it with the same sentiment: “For the glory of the most high God, and for the instruction of my neighbor.”
When Bach sat down to write music, he would often begin by writing two words across the top of the blank page: Jesu Juva. It’s Latin for “Jesus help me.” This is, of course, the prayer of all students writing papers, staring at the blank page. But Bach took the time to spell it out in writing, and he kept doing this throughout his life, long after his student days, when no one doubted his ability to compose excellent music. Jesus, help me. And when Jesus did help him, when the piece was complete, he would give the credit back to God, writing at the bottom of the musical score the words, Soli Dei Gloria, which is Latin for “Glory to God Alone.”
Where does that kind of faithful devotion to God come from? For Bach, I think a lot of it came from a lifetime of careful study of the Bible, the scriptures of the Old and New Testament. When Bach was appointed as the music director St. Thomas church in Leipzig, he formed an ambitious plan to compose a cantata (a piece meant for singing) for every Sunday and every Holiday of the church calendar. And in Germany at the time, the church was on a five year liturgical calendar, so that would have been around 300 cantatas, each one in several movements, and each movement based on the scripture passages for the particular day.
The piece we’re going to hear next (and I’m very happy that Kris Boyea is joining us to sing it) is based on one small verse from the Magnificat—the prayer of Mary when she greets her cousin Elizabeth in the first chapter of Luke. The text in Latin, is simply “ Et exultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutari meo.” (and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior). Bach only completed about 2/3rds of his planned cantatas, but in this slow and painstaking way, he composed music for large portions of the Bible, sometimes one small verse at a time.
In Bach’s library, at the time of his death, there were several theology books, including all of Martin Luther’s works, and Luther’s three-volume translation of the Bible in German. In that Bible, on almost every page, are scores of notes and comments in Bach’s own handwriting, and even corrections where the printer of the Bible had made errors that Bach caught, or places where Bach thought an older edition was better. That’s how well he knew his Bible! One of my favorite notes is the one he wrote in the margin next to 1st Chronicles 25–our first scripture reading today, the one that lists the leaders of worship in the tabernacle of ancient Israel, and all of their musical children (something I think Bach and I could both identify with). Bach wrote next to that verse, “This chapter is the true foundation of all God-pleasing music.” I love that it’s a passage about families singing and playing together.
Our final piece—and it is a grand finale in the truest sense—is called Fantasia in G. Vanessa, who knows Bach’s music far better than I do, helped to pick most of the music for this series, and I want to read her explanation for this particular piece:
“My idea to include this one was to highlight Bach’s creativity, and over the last part showcase his chromaticism. There are a lot of scriptural passages that relate to creativity [and the] works of man. I believe that when man is at his purest state, most at peace with God and his surroundings, that creativity is more natural and flowing. Bach must have felt secure not only in his work posting, but had the time and inclination to write other works that weren’t necessarily liturgical in nature . . . exploring the full use of the instruments he was working with and the limits of 18th century tonality.”
I want to end the series with two things: First, with some words from Bach’s most famous biographer, Albert Schweitzer (who was a famous theologian, musician and missionary doctor in his own right). Then second, with a challenge to us that is inherent in Bach’s music and message. But first, Scwheitzer, who writes that “Music is an act of worship with Bach. His artistic activity and his personality are both based on his piety. If he is to be understood from any standpoint at all, it is from this. For him, art was religion, and so had no concern with the world or with worldly success. It was an end in itself. Bach includes religion in the definition of art in general. All great art, even secular, is in itself religious in his eyes; for him the tones do not perish, but ascend to God like praise too deep for utterance.”
And here’s my challenge: Bach is, according to many (if not most), the greatest musician and composer in history, although he certainly didn’t think of himself that way. It seems pretty clear to me that his greatness, his passion, his inspiration, his excellence, and his humility—all spring directly from one source: His faith in God, his devotion to his savior, and his love of his neighbor (which are all, essentially the same thing).
So… What’s your source? What’s your inspiration? Where does your passion come from? Is it something small and finite? Something that will not sustain you through a lifetime, or that will not last long after you are gone? Because if that’s the case, I have some good news: The God who smiled upon Johann Sebastian Bach is the same God who smiles upon you, who loves you and is calling you into a deeper knowledge of him. And the more you grow into that relationship, the more your music, your talent, your God-given calling will shine for all the world to see. Of course, when it does, you might do well to give credit where credit is due: Soli Deo Gloria. Glory to God alone.
