Castle Church at Weimar |
Durch Lieben und Leiden.
These have long been my favorite words in Himmelskönig sei willkommen, BWV 182, Bach's cantata for Palm Sunday as seen through the lens of the Annunciation.
There was no "concerted" music in churches during Lent in early 18th century Germany, but the churches did celebrated the Annunciation on March 25, nine months before Christmas, a festival existing outside of Lent, so there could be music. Occasionally Annunciation coincided with Palm Sunday, including in 1714 when this cantata was first performed in Weimar. The juxtaposition of the two -- a day that anticipates Christmas, another day that anticipates Good Friday, birth and death -- is a history of salvation story. It's also profoundly human.
Himmelskönig sei willkommen, the first words of the cantata's opening chorus are translated "King of Heaven, you are welcome." The text goes on to say "you have captured our hearts" -- as one might say of an adorable infant, or the Son of God come down to earth. Three arias about the Incarnation and believers' response follow; they're all lovely -- but whatever. Then there's a contemplative, imitative, and oh-so-lyrical setting of a stanza of a Lenten chorale familiar to Bach's congregations: "Jesus, your Passion is for me pure joy....My soul walks on roses when I think of this." Roses. In the grey days of March.
And then a little gigue for the choir, a dancing invitation to follow the Savior durch Lieben und Leiden, "though love and suffering."
So lasset uns gehen in Salem der Freuden,
So let us go in the Salem of joy,
Begleitet den König in Lieben und Leiden.
accompany the king in love and in sorrows.
(Lieben is pronounced with what would be a long-e sound in English, as in need; Leiden with a long i, as in slide.)
Credit goes to the (unknown) poet for the l-sounds in lasset, Salem and begleitet which prepare the ear for the satisfying alliteration of Lieben and Leiden.
But more credit, I think, belongs to Bach for the light-hearted elegance of the music. Yes, there's a little dissonance, a little darkness around those love and suffering words, as the various musical lines collide into one another, but at the cadence Lieben und Leiden are tossed off lightly, no great burden since Jesus bears them with us, for us.
I'll take that into Holy Week 2024 -- the Salem of joy.
There's so much to worry about, so much bad news, so much to stress about. Does it seem wrong to carry it lightly?
Look to Jesus, who carried the world's sorrows with love -- and joy.
Listen to yesterday's performance at Grace Lutheran Church's Bach Cantata Vespers here.