The Parish Church of St John-at-Hampstead

26th January 2014 Evensong Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied – Sing unto the Lord a new song Handley Stevens

Psalm 33
OT Reading: Ecclesiastes 3.1-11
NT Reading: 1 Peter1.3-12                                               

Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied – Sing unto the Lord a new song

I have asked to reverse the order of anthem and sermon this evening because I want to conclude with a few words about the great Bach motet which the choir will then sing for us.  Bach was a man deeply influenced by the Lutheran faith in which he had been brought up, and this little masterpiece was composed in 1730 to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the Augsburg Confession, the foundation document of the Protestant Reformation in Germany.  As such it is perhaps not altogether fanciful to regard it as a statement of Bach’s own faith.

But first a few words about our two scripture readings, which between them express the contrasting themes of solemn realism and joyful hope which Bach contrives to hold together.  What a contrast there is between the sense of futility and resignation which underlies the text of that beautiful poem from the book of Ecclesiastes, and the sense of purpose fulfilled and confident hope that bursts from every line of Peter’s letter of faith and encouragement.  For the author of Ecclesiastes, humanity is trapped in an ever-recurring cycle of events, in which the future repeats the past over and over again without our ever being able to discover any purpose or direction in it.  He dismisses as wishful thinking any intuitive sense that there might be any life beyond this life, or any purpose in our experience of the world that God has made.  We are born and we die, and the darkness covers us. This is not of course typical of Old Testament thinking.  But as the voice of prophecy fell silent in the last centuries before Christ, and God’s purpose for his chosen people seemed no nearer to being fulfilled, the bleak realism of Ecclesiastes must have seemed ever more rational – as it does to many to-day. 

Peter’s letter is written in a different world.  He has seen the prophecies wonderfully fulfilled in the life and death of Jesus Christ.  In his generation God’s plan has at last been revealed.  The narrative makes sense after all. The crucial first stage has been accomplished in the life and death of Jesus of Nazareth, and now by the power of his resurrection the Spirit of God, the Holy Spirit, has been released into the world of God’s creation, which  is moving towards the great climax of his glorious second coming in great power, perhaps very soon.  We may have to put up with some suffering in the short term, not least the mockery and abuse we encounter from those who are blind to the truth about God, but Peter insists that if we suffer for our faith now, we shall in the end be gloriously vindicated, as Christ was vindicated.

Every one of us is still faced with that same choice.  Either we opt for the view that life is very wonderful but ultimately futile and meaningless, or we buy into the truth of the Biblical narrative, and find that it gives meaning to our own experience of life’s triumphs and disasters.  It is because the Church is a community of those who claim with St Peter an inheritance that is imperishable, unfading and heavenly, that we need in our worship the extra dimension that great music is able to supply. 

There is of course a fine setting of this passage from 1 Peter by S S Wesley, but Bach’s motet is an even more splendid example of the way musical expression can lift our praise and worship to another level.  The first movement – Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied (Sing unto the Lord a new song) is a setting of Luther’s translation of the first three verses of Psalm 149.  Not only do we praise God with our voices, but we praise him in the dance.  To the words Die Kinder Zion sein frohlich uber ihrem Konige, Bach gives us a joyful, dancing fugue.  It’s a longways dance, with the lines of dancers weaving gracefully in and out of one another across the Temple courtyard, and the music, set to the word Reihen, which means rows or lines, weaves in and out with them in long sinuous phrases of running semi-quavers, until the dance comes to a stand with a rhythmic unison burst of Pauken und Harfen – the tabrets and hand-held harps that would have been prominent in the temple orchestra. 

The gentler middle section offers us a Chorale sung by the second choir (on this side of the chancel), around which Bach weaves a more elaborate supporting commentary in the first choir.  The Chorale is set to the words of an early Lutheran hymn by Johan Gramann, based on Psalm 103.13-16.  It pictures a God of mercy holding a young child.  His heart melts (er erbarmet sich) as he holds us in his arms, because he knows that our lives are very short, and death is never far away.  Around this tender but rather sombre picture, embracing the realism of our first reading from Ecclesiastes, the first choir weaves a quiet commentary of steadfast faith, clinging firmly to the Christian hope that God will continue to care for us (Gott, nimm dich ferner unser an). Their commentary concludes with a musical statement of resolute assurance – Wohl dem, der sich nor steif und fest auf dich und deine Huld verlasst – All shall be well with those who place their trust firmly in God’s grace.  These words may be a very personal reflection of Bach’s faith. Certainly there are currents of deep emotion in this section, when one remembers how Bach himself was orphaned at the age of nine, and how he lost so many of his own children in infancy.

Having celebrated our faith in God’s eternal loving kindness, the first choir launches the closing section with another hymn of praise, this time from Psalm 150, led by a confident rising melody in the basses, Lobet den Herrn in seinen Taten – Praise the Lord in his noble acts, praise him according to his great glory – before concluding with another great fugue to the final words of Psalm 150 – Alles was Odem hat – let everything that hath breath praise the Lord. Hallelujah.  Neither the authorized version of the Bible, nor our own Book of Common Prayer concludes the book of Psalms with Hallelujah, but Luther’s translation does, and Bach is happy to make it a triple Hallelujah.

As the choir sings this great work, we give thanks for the music which lifts and enriches our worship in this place to the greater glory of God.