Apropos yesterday’s post, two prayers from the Anglican
Book of Common Prayer also have recently shaped my prayers for the Church in
troubled spots.
From the collect assigned to “Proper 13” (Sunday, August
3), note the highlighted portion especially:
Let your continual mercy, O Lord, cleanse and defend your Church; and, because it cannot
continue in safety without your help, protect and govern it always by your goodness;
through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy
Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
And the prayer that ends morning devotions:
Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, you have brought us in safety to this new
day: Preserve us with your mighty power, that we may not fall into sin, nor be
overcome by adversity; and in all we do, direct us to the fulfilling of
your purpose; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Sadly, it took me a couple of days into last week,
praying the first collect, before I made the connection to praying it on behalf
of the persecuted church. I find I can no longer pray the daily morning prayer routinely.
I will not take for granted that I have
been brought safely to any new day; and I pray that the church in Iraq will
also be safe, and preserved, and overcome.
Since the start of this church year (which happened to
align with the completion of my thesis) I have been listening each week to a Bach
cantata appropriate to the liturgical Sunday. I am listening through the second
Leipzig cantata cycle, since my case study cantata (BWV 5, Wo soll ich fliehen hin) is from late in that year (1723–24).
So today I turned to BWV 178, Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält (If the Lord God does not stay
with us) and was not only refreshed (as I am each Sunday), not only amazed at
Bach’s inventive treatment of texts (a source of constant delight), not only
keeping up with a discipline/commitment (as only an obsessive can and must).
No, today I was floored by the timeliness of this cantata text in light of
world events.
For the past couple of weeks we have been hearing about
the brutal beheading of Christian children in ISIS controlled Iraq. We are mourning
the persecution of Iraqi Christians (Chaldean Catholics). And this on top of ongoing
terror in Nigeria, Somalia, and elsewhere.
In 1524, Justus Jonas wrote a chorale based on Psalm 124.
Two hundred years later Bach set the words of that hymn in Cantata 178, for the
Eighth Sunday after Trinity. The Scripture readings for the day were
Romans
8:12–17 (“For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God.
For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have
received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.”) and Matthew 7:
15–23 (not all who say “Lord, Lord” belongs to God, and that “by their fruit
you shall know them.”). Combined with Psalm 124 (“If the Lord had not been at
our side . . . Our help is in the name of the Lord, the Maker of heaven and
earth.”) and Jonas’ chorale, this Cantata is an extended meditation on the focus,
hope, and consolation of persecuted Christians.
Mind you, in Jonas’ day the persecution was from one
group of Christians against another. And God knows over the centuries (before
and since) that has been a sad reality. I recall the old Mennonite Central
Committee poster from my college days.
Fair
enough; and sad enough.
So, this is not a rant against Islam. It is simply
pointing out that one of the virtues of the arts—and of the musico-prophetic
art in particular—is that words written 490 years ago, paired with music
written 290 years ago, provided perspective to me today, as I consider world events. They teach me how to pray today.
They remind me where my Christian hope lies. And they unite me in some strange,
unexpected way, with Iraqi Christians.
If you want to
enter into this musical devotion . . .
Text:
The Bach Cantata website, with German text and English
translation, in parallel.
The Bach Cantata website, with German text, and the English
translation interleaved.
Scroll to the bottom of this page for some notes on the Jonas chorale, and Bach’s
setting.
From both these pages you can delve more deeply into the
cantata.
I’ve been listening to as many of the cantatas as I can
by John Eliot Gardiner, on Spotify.
And if you can lay your hands on the recordings by
Masaaki Suzuki, Bach Collegium Japan, enjoy!
Listen to a recording while following along
the text. I like to read through the full text in English first (since my
German is very weak), then track the movements with the recording.