Reflections on Singing Brahms

by | Feb 7, 2024 | Family, Pastor Peter Wallace, Repentance, Worship

Dear Congregation,
On Saturday evening I had the opportunity to sing in the Brahms’ Requiem at Notre Dame with all seven of my children (and around 100 other singers!). (A link to the video is below)

Rehearsing and performing the Requiem has been good for my soul in several ways — one of which has been the constant meditation on the texts that we are singing. Let me walk you through the Requiem, if you are so inclined to go for this walk. I am trying to learn to express my emotions — and this is one way that I am able to do so.

1. Selig sind, die da Leid tragen…
Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted (Matthew 5:4). The opening movement of the Requiem provides the overarching statement of the theme of the whole piece. Too often we think of blessing only in terms of the “good things” of life — but Jesus says “blessed are they that mourn.” What do you do when it hurts? You mourn. You lament. Lament is proper for those who are stricken by grief. And indeed, this is where I have been living for the last year.

They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. They that go forth and weep, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing their sheaves with them (Psalm 126:5-6). Weeping lasts for a night, but joy comes in the morning (as Emorja Roberson’s opening gospel song reminds us!). There is a future for those who weep.

2. Denn alles Fleisch, es ist wie Gras
For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower thereof falls away (1 Peter 1:24). This theme is propounded four times in second movement — each time in unison. The effect is not exactly monotonous (Brahms is too good a composer to feel monotonous!) — but you start thinking, “you already said that!” The first two uses of the them are woven together with James 5:7 — Be patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. Behold the husbandman waits for the precious fruit of the earth, and has long patience for it, until he receive the morning and evening rain. But then he comes back again (twice) to Denn alles Fleisch… and you start to realize that we are stuck in the middle of a never-ending story that always ends in death. The glory of man fades and withers.

Aber (but!)

But the word of the Lord endures forever (1 Peter 1:25). And what is the word of the Lord for “alles Fleisch”? And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away (Isaiah 35:10).  Notice the importance of the future tense. This is the promise. This is the word of the Lord that comes to those who mourn — to those who are presently living in the misery of this age.

3. Herr, lehre doche mich
The baritone soloist (the incomparable Emorja Roberson) sings the first person singular (with echoes from the chorus).
Lord, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is: that I may know how frail I am. Behold, thou hast made my days as an handbreadth; and mine age is as nothing before thee. Surely every man walks in a vain show: surely they are disquieted in vain: he heaps up riches, and knows not who shall gather them. And now, Lord, what do I wait for? My hope is in thee (Psalm 39:4-7). What is the point of life in this vale of tears? The final “Nun Herr, wes soll ich mich troesten” (now Lord, what do I wait for?) is a plaintive cry, bouncing from part to part with some of the largest leaps (intervals) in the whole piece mingled with lots of tight harmonies that express the dissonance of our experience of waiting — now Lord, what do I wait for?

Then the soloist sits down and the chorus takes over (as if the soloist is demonstrating the point — he knows not who shall gather them…):

My hope is in thee — an incredible series of triplets running against quarter/half note rhythms (I think that I finally got it [partly] right in the concert). But that glorious confession of hope leads to the promise:

The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God and there shall no torment touch them (Wisdom of Solomon 3:1). The Wisdom of Solomon is not in the canon of scripture — but the author was a faithful believer, and the sentiment here is exactly right! Even death is not the end. Here Brahms launches into a magnificent fugue where the parts keep swirling back and forth (the tenors have the privilege of opening the fugue Der Gerechten Seelen — the souls of the righteous). This is both the most difficult part of the whole Requiem, and the most amazing when you get to the point where you can actually hear what is going on! To be in the hand of God — where no torment can touch you — is characterized musically by a maelstrom of sound and ever-changing lines where it starts the same as last time — but goes a different direction, or lands a third higher (or lower). In other words, to be in the hand of God does not mean utter stillness and calm! The storm still rages! But you are in the hand of God. And so no torment (keine Qual) can touch you.

4. Wie Lieblich sind deine Wohnungen, Herr Zabaoth!
Here at the very center of the Requiem, Brahms placed Psalm 84:1,2,4 (You are welcome, Sally) — How lovely are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, yea, even faints for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh cries out for the living God. Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will always be praising thee. This is the heart of the Requiem. Where does your soul find rest? What do your heart and your flesh cry out for? Do you cry out for the living God?

And it is important to note that Brahms ends the movement back with verse one: “How lovely are your tabernacles!” This theme will remain central through the rest of the piece — with the theme of the heavenly city.

5. Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit
Anne Slovin, the soprano soloist, did a lovely job with this movement. And ye now therefore have sorrow: but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you (John 16:22). Behold with your eyes, how that I have but little labor, and have gotten unto me much rest (Ecclesiasticus 51:27).

The chorus is largely in the background singing the refrain: As one whom his mother comforts, so will I comfort you (Isaiah 66:13). This is a lovely reminder that while my own mother died 18 years ago, the God of all comfort continues to comfort his people — and, as this is taken into the voice of the chorus — we, together, as citizens of the heavenly Jerusalem are the means of that comfort to one another.

6. Denn wir haben hie keine bleibende Statt
The chorus opens with the statement, For here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to come (Hebrews 13:14). And then the baritone soloist interjects, Behold, I show you a mystery: we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, [At this point the soloist sits down — he has introduced the text, but the chorus, who have been echoing his lines up until this point, will now announce the message] Death is swallowed up in victory. Death, where is thy sting? Hell, where is thy victory? (1 Corinthians 15:51-52, 54-55). Brahms has the singers almost throw their words at Death and Hell! And then, after a massive crescendo of shouting at the devil with all your voice, the altos lead forth with a new fugue:

Lord, you are worthy to receive glory and honor and power: for you have created all things, and for your pleasure they are and were created (Revelation 4:11). This fugue (mercifully) is slightly easier than the earlier one, though still with all sorts of twists and turns — because the glory and honor and power of God is no less beautiful and complex than being in the hand of God (#2). Indeed, there are some very similar features of these two fugues, which probably reflect the fact that being in the hand of God (#2) is exactly the same thing as proclaiming his worthiness!

7. Selig sind die Toten
Blessed are the dead, which die in the Lord, from henceforth. Yea, says the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them (Revelation 14:13). I suspect that we all sighed with relief when we got to this point — because while the seventh movement is just as beautiful as the text, as long as you remember the eighth note triplets for the “selig sind die Toten” in the middle, the rest is smooth sailing. Which is fitting. As long as you remember “blessed are the dead which die in the Lord” — the rest is “smooth sailing” (so long as you remember that “smooth sailing” is the same thing as “the obedience of faith” that Paul speaks of in Romans 1 — you still have to hit the right notes at the right time!).
Thirty years ago I sang the Brahms’ Requiem in college, and it instantly became my favorite choral piece that I ever sang — so when I had a chance to sing it with all of my children, I could not say no. But singing Brahms at the age of 53 is very different from the age of 21. Then it was powerful and beautiful. Now it is filled with so much more meaning and emotion. I have learned so much more of the truth of the words that I could only feel so much more deeply the power of the music to embody the words — which could only happen because a hundred and fifty people came together to join body and soul in the work of producing this.

It was a special privilege to be able to sing under the direction of Dr. Mark Doerries (who has taught all my children for so many years!) and to be able to sing a composition by Dr. Emorja Roberson (who also taught many of my children when he was a student at Notre Dame). I am profoundly grateful for the opportunity.

(If you want to read Dr. Doerries comments on the Requiem — he includes some reflections on his own encounter with cancer — Saturday was the two year anniversary of his surgery)
https://performingarts.nd.edu/meet-the-artist/brahms-mark-doerries/

If you would like to hear it, the Sacred Music Department at Notre Dame has posted the video.

(Fiona is on the left side in the soprano sections — then you’ll see Robert, William, and Peter in the bass section — I’m the bouncy tenor — then Bee, Lorna, and Geneva are with the altos).

If you want to see an English translation alongside the original German:
https://www.cpdl.org/wiki/index.php/Ein_deutsches_Requiem%2C_Op._45_(Johannes_Brahms)

Blessings,
Peter

“Peter Wallace in Plaid and Skinny Jeans” (or, Why You Should Love Catechism, Psalmody and the Sabbath)

by | Feb 17, 2013 | Catechesis, Pastor Peter Wallace, Pastoral Notes, Pastoral Practice, Psalmody, Sabbath

Jamie Stoltzfus linked to this article on Facebook (though it was Jacob’s comment, “Trying to picture Peter Wallace in plaid and skinny jeans” that called my attention to it and convinced me to read it!):

http://marc5solas.wordpress.com/2013/02/08/top-10-reasons-our-kids-leave-church/

It is a good reminder of why we are doing what we do — and a challenge to work on doing it even better!
1) Why do the catechism quiz every week (10:10 a.m.)? Because we are working on instilling within ourselves (and our children) the basic grammar of Christian doctrine. Don’t assume that this is only for children. I never memorized the catechism until we started doing it at MCPC, but I find that the repetition is really helping me to get it stuck in my head and heart (especially as we have added the scripture memory verses). And for those who may say, “Yeah, I did that once,” — I would ask, “Do you still know it?” If not, come back, let’s do it again — and again — and again! Is it perfect? No, but if we wait for perfection we’ll never do anything!

2) Sing. Paul says, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.” (Colossians 3:16). Notice that in Colossians 3, Paul isn’t talking about what we do in public worship — he’s talking about what we do in daily life! Do you know these songs well enough to sing them in your daily life? Do you incorporate them into your daily life? These are the sorts of customs and practices that sink deep into a person’s soul. If the only place you ever encounter this is on Sunday morning, then don’t expect it to get any further than one day a week in your life!
But Sunday morning is still a good place to start. Come and sing at 10 a.m. We generally sing through the most challenging piece of music that we’ll be singing in the morning service and work on it part by part. And as your children get older, bring them along to work on parts as well (and for those without kids, find a kid — or an adult who wants to learn how to sing — and take them under your wing to help them along). If you want to know how to sing better, stand next to [or in front of] someone who sings well.
And yes, we are planning on making sure that we have enough copies of the new psalter that you can have copies at home!

3) Talk with others about the sermon. Go deeper. Think together about what the scripture says about who Jesus is and what he has done. Let his story become the center of your conversation (it is, after all, the center of everything else!). Use the order of service throughout the week to encourage your daily prayers at home and with others. I include it here in the pastoral notes so that you can make use of it. Obviously, if you already have a thriving family worship time, then there is no need to alter it for this — but if you are looking for a place to start, it may help.

4) Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. The point of the Sabbath has to do with how we think about time. God said to work for six days and rest on the seventh. Do we set aside our labors for a whole day? God did. This was the pattern of creation. No, we don’t keep the same Sabbath as Israel (and we shouldn’t think about the Sabbath in terms of the whole Mosaic code — any more than we should think about theft in the same way as the whole Mosaic code!), but how do we use time? In the same way that we give to God the first of our produce, we should give to God the first of our time. Are we calling the Sabbath a delight? Or are we so focused on our own agendas that we squeeze God’s time out? Again — these sorts of practices and customs are crucial for shaping our life together before God.

Obviously, if these practices and customs do not really touch the core of our lives, then the children will see it — and will decry it as the hypocrisy that it is. But if they see the joy of the Spirit in us — if they see our thankful obedience reflected in our grace-filled walk, then perhaps by God’s grace they, too, will walk with us in the way of Christ.

Practices Have Consequences

by | Feb 10, 2013 | Pastor Peter Wallace, Pastoral Notes, Pastoral Practice, Psalmody, Worship

What shapes us? What forms us? What is it that makes us “who we are”? Are we shaped mostly by ideas (our intellectual beliefs) or by our practices and customs?

I grew up Baptist — but I became Reformed because I was convinced by the *ideas.* Did that make me Reformed? Sort of. I was a Reformed Christian *intellectually* — but as my friends noticed at the time, I was still fundamentally a Baptist in my ways of living, as one friend told me as I was grumbling about the problems of individualism in American church culture: “Peter, you’re the biggest individualist I know!”

Looking back, if I had continued to be an *ideas* person, who knows where I’d be today. What was it that formed me as a Reformed pastor?
1) Every Sunday morning and evening for more than two years I sat under the preaching of Lendall Smith at Bethel Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Wheaton, participating in their well-crafted liturgy — and coming to the Lord’s Supper (as I began to grasp intellectually what the Lord’s Supper really was, and trembling as I partook of Christ’s body and blood, as I realized that Paul’s warning really meant something!). And then I spent many Sunday afternoons — and other times — with the Larsons, the Brinks, the DeJongs, and other families — learning and watching their practice of being a Reformed family.
2) Every month for nearly five years (two at Wheaton and three at Westminster) I gathered with other students at the home of Darryl and Ann Hart to talk about what it means to be Reformed. Yes, there was deep theological discussion — but it was embodied in the lived practice of a community.
3) At Westminster I was frequently in the Powlison home (usually on the third floor with David and Sharon Covington). Again, the intellectual found its context in a vibrant fellowship of life together. For two years I lived with Steve and Lynn Igo — and their bouncing boys — participating in their family life and worship (our family worship bears considerable resemblance to theirs!), learning to put into practice the counseling paradigm that we were taught in our relationships with each other.
4) My first year at Notre Dame, I gathered with the Deliyannides and Devlins practically every Sunday in the Allison’s tiny 525 square foot apartment — where we always sang a half dozen Psalms. I had been convinced intellectually for years that we should sing more Psalms — but I had never done it! Ben Allison made sure that it happened. The rituals and practices of those few short months shaped me in ways that my ideas never had.
5) As I was licensed and ordained in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, I was enculturated into a particular way of being Reformed — the boundaries and norms of the Midwest Presbytery shaped me both in explicit and implicit ways — some of which were significantly challenged when Glenn Jerrell walked into my life and gave me another way of being an OPC pastor. Two years of sitting under his ministry at Walkerton reshaped me in many ways (some of which I probably do not even realize!).
6) Plainly the content of what I learned and read has been crucial — but also who I learned it from! When you have learned Union with Christ from Dick Gaffin, Judges from Al Groves, Genesis from Doug Green, and when you have heard Sinclair Ferguson pray his lectures every day before he preaches them, you will never be the same again.

But all of this runs into another way of being and knowing and doing — one that is well-articulated by Matthew Vos’s article on the Super Bowl.

http://www.cardus.ca/comment/article/3864/prizes-and-consumables-the-super-bowl-as-a-theology-of-women/
[Thanks to Mark Hanson for the link — and to be fair, I should note that I watched most of the Super Bowl.]

Vos points out that the customs and practices encouraged by the Super Bowl embody a fundamentally idolatrous way of being human (an Ezekiel 16 sort of culture — for those who weren’t at MCPC a couple years ago, Ezekiel 16 could be summarized as, ‘Cinderella becomes a porn star’).

So much of the church today is trying to make Christianity more palatable to our culture by trying to put the content of Christianity into the forms and customs of our culture (see Vos’s comments on this). I once spoke to a young man from Muncie, Indiana, who said he was looking for a church down there. I asked him, “What are you looking for in a church?” He answered, “I just want to be entertained.”

I was dumbfounded at his honesty (so I didn’t quite know what to say!), but it got me thinking. There are two things that I do not want to do:
1) I do not want simply to entertain him (it would only cheapen the good news of what Jesus has done);
2) I do not want to bore him (that would also cheapen the good news of what Jesus has done!).

Rather, I want him to see that there is something so much more grand and glorious that God has done in Jesus! And that’s where the customs and practices of our life together are so essential. If what we do on Sunday morning is disconnected from what we do the rest of the week, then yes, it will feel jarring (and so if that young man would ever come to MCPC, I don’t doubt that he will find it strange — but by the Spirit of God he should see a strange and beautiful power revealed there!). But if what we do on Sunday morning begins to shape what we do the rest of the week, then we will begin to find the practices of our culture to be strange and jarring.

The ideas are relevant to all this — but disembodied ideas are a mere fantasy!