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

Reading Genesis 20-25 in Family Worship

by | Feb 10, 2017 | Family Worship, Genesis, Worship

Reading Genesis 20-25 in Family Worship

Genesis 20

Genesis 20 functions as something of an interlude. The story of Abraham and Abimelech sounds something like a repeat of the story of Abraham and Pharaoh. It is particularly striking because Sarah is now nearly 90 years old — at least, if the story is told chronologically. I suspect that the story happened earlier in their life, but we hear it now since Abimelech plays a central role here in the next couple chapters.

Here we learn that Sarah is indeed Abraham’s sister — so he did not lie when he said, “She is my sister” — although such a statement results in both Pharaoh and Abimelech being deceived. If you tell the truth in such a way that you intend for others to believe a lie (e.g., she is not married), then you practice deception. Abimelech rightly responds, “How have I sinned against you, that you have brought on me and my kingdom a great sin?”

And yet, Abraham’s reply reveals his fundamental concern: “There is no fear of God at all in this place, and they will kill me because of my wife.” While Genesis does not approve of all of Abraham’s actions, neither does Genesis condemn Abraham. Certainly the result of the encounter with Abimelech turns to great good for Abraham.

Song: Psalm 105

Genesis 21

The birth of Isaac is woven into the fabric of this story that includes Hagar and Abimelech. Abimelech has functioned as the latest in a series of threats to God’s promises. After all, if Sarah winds up in Abimelech’s court, then she will not bear the promised seed! And Hagar remains a potential threat as long as Ishmael, the firstborn son, stays around.

So at the weaning of Isaac, Sarah’s jealousy of Hagar and Ishmael reaches its climax: “Cast out this slave woman with her son…” And to our surprise, God agrees with Sarah. Ishmael may not inherit with Isaac — because the inheritance is nothing less than to be the holy seed through whom salvation will come to all the nations.

And chapter 21 concludes with Abraham’s treaty with Abimelech — a covenant of friendship. Abimelech recognizes that God is with Abraham — and so he wants to make sure that Abraham and his descendants will deal kindly with his descendants. (Note: while it refers to “the land of the Philistines” — the names Abimelech and Phicol are not Philistine names. The Philistines did not arrive in Canaan for another 4-5 centuries).

Song: PHSS 167 “The Holy City”

Genesis 22

Don’t even try to get inside Abraham’s head on this one. Soren Kierkegaard tried it in Fear and Trembling — and you cannot begin to make sense of Abraham’s experience of this (or Isaac’s!). Hebrews 11 says about all we can say, “He considered that God was able even to raise the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back.” Instead, focus on what God tells us in this story. The offering of Isaac happens at the same location where Solomon will later build the temple. God teaches us through this story the necessity of the sacrifice of the firstborn son in order to redeem humanity (a theme that will get played out in more detail in Exodus).

Song: Psalm 127

Genesis 23

This is one of my favorite chapters. Watch the negotiating as Abraham maneuvers Ephron into selling him a piece of land that Ephron does not wish to part with. Of course, Ephron charges him a princely sum, but Abraham is willing to pay anything in order to have a burial plot that he may call his own. When Ephron offers the field as a “gift” he is actually trying to keep the land within his own inheritance. “Gifted” lands were not permanently alienated — only the “use” was given away. That’s why Ephron inflates the price to an astronomical rate. He appears quite upset that Abraham has put him in such an awkward position that he can only ‘save face’ by making Abraham pay in silver.

Why does Abraham want to have a burial plot? Because he does not wish to mingle the bones of God’s people with the bones of those who are under God’s wrath and curse. The same hope of the resurrection that we saw in chapter 22 emerges as well here in chapter 23.

PHSS 166

Genesis 24

The story of Abraham’s servant provides a fascinating glimpse into ancient customs. “Put your hand under my thigh” — is a way of swearing an oath by the “seed.” The servant tells the story that we already know (repetition tells us how important the story is). The marriage is contracted in the home of her family — but also requires Rebekah’s consent: “Will you go with this man?” So by the time she meets Isaac, she is already his wife.

“And Isaac went out to meditate in the field toward evening. And he lifted up his eyes and saw, and behold, there were camels coming.” Camels were only domesticated in Canaan much later (around the 10th century), so some think that Abraham’s servant could not have brought 10 camels with him. But then again, Abraham is from Babylon (where camels appear in lists of domestic animals from ca. 1800 B.C.) and had sojourned in Egypt (where camels had been domesticated since 2200 B.C.). So it would appear that Abraham brought a handful of camels with him to Canaan — which would have made him look like a wealthy and influential foreigner (exactly how the book of Genesis portrays him…). The only camels in Canaan are approaching.

Song: Psalm 98

Genesis 25:1-18

Even though Abraham was old, he apparently had sufficient vigor to marry again and father six sons with Keturah. Midian is the most important for future purposes (Moses will marry a Midianite woman).

Also notice that when Abraham dies, Ishmael comes and joins Isaac in burying their father. Ishmael is not in the promised line — but he is never portrayed as hostile to the promises (unlike Esau — as we’ll see next week). Nonetheless, the Ishmaelites will often array themselves against Israel.

Song: Psalm 83

You Are What You Love — Liturgy and Habit

by | Nov 4, 2016 | Family, Pastoral Notes, Pastoral Practice, Worship

You Are What You Love — Liturgy and Habit

“The mall is a religious site, not because it is theological but because it is liturgical. Its spiritual significance (and threat) isn’t found in its ‘ideas’ or its ‘messages’ but in its rituals. The mall doesn’t care what you think, but it is very much interested in what you love. Victoria’s secret is that she’s actually after your heart.” (p41)

With this in mind, James K. A. Smith launches into a liturgical reading of the shopping mall — rightly seeing the architecture of the mall as an echo of the Gothic cathedral. He notes that “here one finds an array of three-dimensional icons adorned in garb that — as with all iconography — inspires our desire to be imitators of these exemplars. These statues and icons (mannequins) embody for us concrete images of the good life. These are the ideals of perfection to which we will learn to aspire.” (p43)

“This temple — like countless others now emerging around the world — offers a rich, embodied visual mode of evangelism that attracts us. This is a gospel whose power is beauty, which speaks to our deepest desires. It compels us to come, not through dire moralisms, but rather with a winsome invitation to share in this envisioned good life.” (p43)

We then enter “one of the chapels” and are “greeted by a welcoming acolyte” and we make our way through its labyrinths, “open to surprise, to that moment where the spirit leads us to an experience we couldn’t have anticipated.” (p43) Having found the holy object, “we proceed to the altar that is the consummation of worship” where the priest of this “religion of transaction” transforms our plastic card into the object of our desire, and we leave “with newly minted relics, as it were, which are themselves the means to the good life.” (p45)

The Notre Dame lunch group has been reading and discussing James K. A. Smith’s You Are What You Love — a thought-provoking essay on “the spiritual power of habit.” The chapter for this week “Guard Your Heart: the Liturgies of Home” reminds us that the patterns and practices that shape our hearts will also shape the rhythms of our life (or is it the other way around?!).

Smith shows us how the basic patterns and rhythms of worship (historic Christian liturgy — like what we do at MCPC) should form and shape the patterns and rhythms of life. “Embedded in the church’s worship are important pictures of what flourishing homes and families look like.” (p114)

The Problem of Compartmentalization

In the modern world we have compartmentalized life into “family,” “church,” “work,” and “play.” When we compartmentalize our lives, then you hear me saying this: The pastor wants me to spend more time doing “church” things. And while I do encourage families to read the Bible, pray together, sing together, memorize the catechism together — these things only scratch the surface of what I mean.

When the worship of God becomes the pattern for our lives, we realize that in our baptism, we have been united to a new family in Jesus. My “family” is redefined in Jesus. Our society — like many before it — has idolized the family and turned it into an ultimate end (ironic, because our society is destroying the family — but that in itself should prove the point: idolatry always destroys the very thing that it seeks!).

Likewise, our work — not just the thing we get paid to do, but the labor that characterizes our creational callings during the “six-days shalt thou labor and do all thy work” — that work is redefined in Jesus. How should I think about my six-days labor? Well, what we do every Sunday in our liturgy reminds us of our true identity in Christ. Christian liturgy is designed to draw us back into the story of what God is doing in history. (As I said it last Sunday, our problem is when we think that the story is about us — when in fact, the story is about Jesus!) Only when we see that the story is about Jesus do we see where we fit into his story.

What God has done in Jesus is not just “save our souls.” He saves us body and soul — he feeds us, body and soul — unto everlasting life. Therefore, since we participate in this grand and glorious story, we can take a long-term perspective and realize that God brings change through the power of his Holy Spirit working in his church, bringing renewal and regeneration throughout all the earth.

Re-Forming Daily Habits

So how can we re-form our daily practices — our routines and rhythms of life — in ways that conform to the heavenly liturgy? Here are a couple suggestions: 1) If the church of Jesus Christ is our new family, then look for ways to connect what you are doing during the week with others in the body of Christ Do you go shopping? Develop a pattern of shopping together with others who share a common desire to conform their shopping practices to the Word of God. Do you watch college football? Invite others to watch with you who will help you avoid the dangers of modern sports idolatries. In short, if we are seeking one thing — if we are seeking to know and love and see the living and true God — then we should look for ways to connect everything that we are doing to that one thing.

On the Celebration of Christmas, Or, Punching Arius in the Face for the 1,688th time!

by | Dec 23, 2013 | Patristics, Worship

Why should we celebrate Christmas on December 25? I argue that we should celebrate the birth of Jesus on December 25 for the same reason that we confess the Nicene Creed. If we believe that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us — in other words, if we believe that Jesus Christ is God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God — then we should celebrate the birth of Jesus on December 25.

A few days ago I pointed to Andrew McGowan’s explanation of the historical origins of the date.

http://www.biblicalarchaeology.org/daily/biblical-topics/new-testament/how-december-25-became-christmas/

My chief quibble with his explanation is that he thinks that the emperor Aurelian (ca. 274) set the feast of Sol Invictus on December 25 — when in fact Aurelian’s celebration took place in October:

Christmas is NOT based on the feast of Sol Invictus

http://chronicon.net/blog/christmas/sol-invictus-evidently-not-a-precursor-to-christmas/

But none of these articles actually explain why we celebrate the birth of Jesus on December 25. After all, it is clear from the evidence that there were people as early as 200 A.D. who believed that Jesus was born on December 25 — and yet it seems equally clear that it took another one hundred years before anyone was celebrating Christmas. Why?

I would suggest that when you overlay the Trinitarian controversy with the celebration of December 25 as Christmas, you get a very interesting picture.

Gregory of Nazianzus (author of the “Theological Orations” — an important series of sermons expounding the Nicene doctrine of the Trinity) introduced the practice of the December 25 celebration of the birth of Jesus into Constantinople in 379 (January 6 had been the previous date recognized in the East). John Chrysostom says that December 25 had been celebrated in Antioch as early as 376.

There is also the intriguing story of Nicholas, the bishop of Lyra (later known in Christmas lore as “St. Nicholas”), who is said to have attended the council of Nicaea in 325 AD. The story is told that the debate over Arius’s views grew so heated, that during the exchange Nicholas punched Arius in the face — resulting in the comment of one friend that he sees every Christmas sermon as an opportunity to join St. Nicholas in punching Arius in the face!

In other words, the celebration of the birth of Jesus on December 25 goes hand-in-hand with the triumph of the Nicene doctrine of the Trinity.

Now, some would say that all of this is very nice and good — but Scripture nowhere tells us to celebrate the birth of Jesus. That is true — but Scripture does tell us to commemorate the great deeds of God in history. Esther and Mordecai establish the feast of Purim to celebrate God’s deliverance of Israel from Haman. And, following this example, the Jews established Hanukkah (the feast of dedication) to celebrate their deliverance by the Maccabees. And John 10:22 tells us that Jesus went to the temple for the Feast of Dedication. John’s gospel is structured around the feasts that Jesus attended (cf. John 2:23; 4:45; 5:1; 6:4; 7:2; 10:22; 11:55; 12:1) — and John (and Jesus) treats the Feast of Dedication just like the other feasts, so no one can argue that this is a mere civil occasion. So if Jesus observed a Maccabean feast, that would indicate that he permits us to institute days of thanksgiving — or days of fasting — as needful and useful for the church.

Incidentally, this is what our Westminster Confession of Faith says in 21.5 — when it endorses the practice of “solemn fastings, and thanksgivings upon special occasions, which are, in their several times and seasons, to be used in an holy and religious manner.” I realize that many (though not all) of the Westminster Divines objected to the celebration of Christmas on December 25 — but the principles that they articulated leaves open the option for the church to establish special occasions of this sort.

It seems to me that if we are going to have “Reformation Day” services on October 31 — where we celebrate the reformation of the church in the 16th century — then we should also have “Nicene Day” services on December 25 — where we celebrate the triumph of Nicene Orthodoxy in the 4th century!

I have little use for trees, gifts, Santa Claus, and all the commercial hoopla that surrounds December 25. (Notice: I did not say that I have no use for such things — merely that I have little use for such things, and such little use as I have, I hope to use in loving God and neighbor through such things). But December 25, as far as I am concerned, is about rejoicing in what God did when the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

–Peter J. Wallace

Hallelujah! Thanks Be to God!

by | Dec 20, 2013 | Worship

What is the proper balance between the corporate and the individual in worship? How do we maintain both form and freedom in our worship of the living and true God? When the Triune God meets with his people in the assembly of the saints, how should we respond?

Joel Irvin called my attention this morning to a line from the OPC Directory for Public Worship:

“The unity and catholicity of the covenant people are to be manifest in public worship. Accordingly, the service is to be conducted in a manner that enables and expects all the members of the covenant community — male and female, old and young, rich and poor, educated and uneducated, healthy and infirm, people from every race and nation — to worship together.” (DPW 1.4)

We’ll be talking in the coming months about how to exemplify this better in our worship, in our fellowship, and in our witness.

In recent months I’ve heard a growing murmur of people saying “Thanks be to God” after the scripture readings. Some people have asked whether we should add a corporate response. My sense is that we have enough “corporate responses” where everyone is expected to say the same things together. We have sufficient “form” — but perhaps what we need is a little more explicit “freedom.”

So if you want to say “thanks be to God” after the reading of the scripture — please do! And don’t feel bashful and timid! If you are thankful to God for what he says, say so! And when I say, “the bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?” you may answer, “Yes it is!” Or when the preacher (myself or anyone else) says something to which you want to say “Hallelujah!” or “Praise the Lord!” — then go ahead!

There are some who believe that the congregation should only speak together with one voice (either in prayer or song) in the worship service. But I would argue that the dialogical principle (the back and forth between God and his people) does not mean that we must sit in utter silence as the Word of God is proclaimed. You hear of people shouting and sighing and weeping and rejoicing in OT worship — and I doubt that every response was carefully planned and crafted by the priests! I have often referred to the sermons of Augustine — where the congregation was audible in its responses to his preaching.

And just so you know — if nothing changes and we still have a few mumbled “thanks be to God” here and there, that’s fine too. My point in writing this is simply to communicate clearly that our emphasis on corporate responses does not mean that we want to avoid individual responses.