“Heaven and earth are full of your glory”

Last week at my church, Burlington Baptist Church, in Ipswich, I led worship with our small worship band, and opened with the 19th century hymn “Holy, holy, holy” by Reginald Heber, leading straight into Nathan Fellingham’s setting of the same words, Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God almighty…Lift up his name with the sound of singing. We have done this often and it works really well. I talked about the worship of heaven, using words from Revelation 4 (how else was anyone supposed to understand all that stuff about the ‘glassy sea’!?).  I also talked about the communion of saints, something we sing about in the Hillsong song, This I believe (“I believe in the saints communion”) although I can’t help imagining the saints sitting in pews with halos,  while St Peter and the rest of heavenly deacons bring the trays of individual communion glasses around with little bits of bread on silver trays sat on top.

Yes, I do often talk too much in opening worship.

This week someone mentioned on twitter the wonderful recording by Paul McCreesh of Michael Praetorius’ Mass for Christmas Morning 1620, which I discovered last year – and so I listened to it again.  I know it’s too early, but it’s almost Advent and I can get away with it at home as long as the tunes are not too obviously Christmassy.

Of course to the worshippers in 1620 the tunes were very obviously Christmassy, and McCreesh has assembled a congregation to sing the Lutheran Christmas hymns (Vom Himmel Hoch, Puer natus and the like) with gusto and enthusiasm. Wonderful congregational worship – you have to admire Luther’s ability to get his congregation singing with marvellous words grounded in scripture aimed at catechising his congregation, set to really singable tunes.  Contemporary song writers could learn a thing or two here!

Trying to find out more, I discovered a set of slides explaining more about the CD [3]  In my listening I had reached the Sanctus motet in the Christmas morning mass setting, setting words of Martin Luther, Jesaja, dem Propheten das geschah, the German Sanctus, and as I read the words, and listened to the music I was overwhelmed.

First some history and context.

This paraphrase of Isaiah 6:1-4, in rhymed couplets for ease of congregational singing, was first published in Luther’s Deutsche Messe of 1526 entitled “The German Sanctus.” [1].  In Luther’s German Mass, it was set to a modified version of a Sanctus plainchant, and although intended for congregational singing, it seems that choral performance even of the German version was still favoured by many churches [2].

Here is the full text with a translation/poetic rendering by George MacDonald

Jessia, dem Propheten, das geschah,
Unto the seer, Isaiah, it was given
Daß er im Geist den Herren sitzen sah
That, in the spirit, he saw the Lord of heaven
Auf einem hohen Thron in hellem Glanz,
Up on a lofty throne, in radiance bright;
Seines Kleides Saum den Chor füllet’ ganz.
The skirt of his garment filled the temple quite;
Es stunden zween Seraph bei ihm daran,
Two seraphs at his side were standing there;
Sechs Flügel sah er einen jeden han:
Six wings, he saw, each one of them did wear:
Mit zween verbargen sie ihr Antlitz klar,
Two over their bright visages did meet,
Mit zween bedeckten sie die Füße gar,
With two of them they covered up their feet,
Und mit den andern zween sie flogen frei.
And with the other twain abroad did fly.
Genander riefen sie mit großem G’schrei:
Each to the other called with a great cry,
Heilig ist Gott, der Herre Zebaoth! 
Holy is God, the Lord of Zebaoth!
Heilig ist Gott, der Herre Zebaoth! 
Heilig ist Gott, der Herre Zebaoth!
Sein’ Ehr’ die ganze Welt erfüllet hat.
His glory great the whole world filled hath.
Von dem G’schrei zittert’ Schwell’ und Balken gar,
At the loud cry the beams and threshold shook,
Das Haus auch ganz voll Rauchs und Nebel war.
And the whole house was full of cloud and smoke

Praetorius’ version is based on Luther’s plainsong adaptation and starts simply enough. But soon rises to some magnificent word painting, as Dave Kriewall explains the presentation I was following as I listened [3]:

“hohen Thron” (lofty throne) – high note
“sie flogen frei” (they flew freely; aloft they soared) – soaring high notes
“gegenander ruften sie” (one to the other called) – echo effects
“mit großem Geschrei” (with a great cry)
“Heilig ist Gott der Herre Zebaoth” (Holy is God, the Lord of Hosts) – starts simply, increasing complexity of the angels’ song as more and more join; can be in 3/4 (indicating Trinity)
“Sein Ehr die ganze Welt erfüllet hat.” (His Glory has filled the whole world.) – always in 4/4 (indicating the earth); massive sound to fill the space.
“Von dem Geschrei zittert Schwell und Balken gar” (Threshold and rafters shake with the cry) – massive sound to fill and seemingly shake the church. Similar to treatment of “mit großem Geschrei”
The tongue-twister:
“Das Haus auch ganz voll Rauchs und Nebels war.” (The house also was full of smoke and fog [haze].)
First, a rapid-fire overlapping repetition of the phrase; effect: musical smoke and fog!
Then, an awesome picture of the grandeur of the vision and the glory of God in his temple

One is truly left with a sense of joining with the worship of heaven in the most immediate way.

We rarely talk about heaven and earth joining together in worship, or the communion of saints, or indeed of the music of heaven, and yet this seems to me to be a wonderful truth, worthy of greater exploration. I wondered if Lutheran theologians of Praetorius’ time had a view on this. Praetorius was known as a deeply religious man who regretted not taking holy orders. The introduction to part III of his Syntagma Musicum II: De Organographia begins as follows:

There are those who believe it proper and right that, next to theology, the highest place should be accorded to music, since it is a beautiful and splendid gift of God, and provides an image of music in heaven, where God’s holy angels together with the entire heavenly host praise their creator without ceasing in gentle harmony, and sing “Holy, holy, holy is God, the Lord of Hosts.” [4]

Having started with the music of heaven, he goes on to talk about the music of the Old Testament, especially the music of David and Solomon, and concludes:

Thus church music, as a service to God, ought properly to be held in great esteem today as well, and to be celebrated with all due reverence.  [4]

Praetorius then, in writing his music, was conscious of both the music of heaven, and following in the traditions of the great Biblical musicians, especially King David himself.

Almost a century later, the debate continued, with a famous conflict between Mattheson and Buttstett over heavenly harmony which started in 1713 [5].

But, as Ruth Tatlow says:

The conflict over Harmony went far deeper…At stake was whether the earthly efforts of the Christian composer…would survive eternally, and how they might do so. [6]

While there was debate as to what music might be played in heaven, some at least believed that there would be music in heaven, possibly even the very music being written by the composers of the day.  That being the case, Ruth Tatlow is surely right:

That perfectly constructed and harmonically proportioned vocal and instrumental compositions would survive the Rapture and be played in the new heaven and new earth would have been a powerful motivating belief for the Lutheran composer [6]

Believing this, there would be a strong desire and drive to write music fit for heaven, using all the musical language of the day to embody as fully as possible, and perhaps even participate in, the heavenly worship.  The music would need to reflect and magnify as perfectly as the composer was able the Word Incarnate, i.e. both Jesus Himself, and his Word in the language of the people, in this case German.  For the composer to truly write Soli Deo Gloria with integrity at the end of his work, every note would need to intentionally celebrate the Glory of God, and not simply the glory of music. [7]

Where a composer aspires to this, as I believe Praetorius is doing here in this motet, using all the skill at his disposal, creating something for eternity itself, it is little wonder we feel something of the worship of heaven?

I wonder if our modern songwriters feel that they are creating music with eternal significance in this way, and what difference it would make if they did?


[1] Leaver, R. A. (2017). The whole church sings: congregational singing in Luther’s Wittenberg. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company. p.158-9

[2] Herl, J. (2008). Worship wars in early Lutheranism: choir, congregation, and three centuries of conflicts. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p.61

[3] Kriewall, D (2011).  Lecture/demonstration on Michael Praetorius’ “Mass for Christmas Morning” https://prezi.com/klhj29w7dzom/praetorius-mass-for-christmas-morning-1620/ Retrieved 26 Nov 2017

[4] Praetorius, Michael and Faulkner, Quentin trans. & ed. (2014). Syntagma Musicum II: De Organographia, Parts III – V with Index. Zea E-Books. Book 24, p.82. http://digitalcommons.unl.edu/zeabook/24

[5] Tatlow, R. (2016). Bach’s Numbers: Compositional Proportion and Significance. Cambridge University Press. p.78

[6] Ibid. p. 82-83

[7] See for example Bokemeyer in Johann Matheson, Critica Music, ‘Canonischen Anatomie’ (Hamburg: Matheson, 1722), cited in Tatlow, R. (2016). Bach’s Numbers: Compositional Proportion and Significance. Cambridge University Press. p.380, 1723-III

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Isaiah by the day

Recently in my bible readings I have been greatly enjoying Isaiah by the Day by the late and great Alec Motyer.  Dr Motyer made the study of Isaiah his life’s work, and this book takes you through 71 daily readings. Each day has a short introduction, his own translation of the passage, with notes on the text, finished off with a short devotional.

This is no dry study, but rather a translation and commentary informed by years of pastoral work and teaching, and above all love of the Word, and the Saviour of which it speaks. I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Here is one thought on Isaiah 51:17 – 52:12 from recent days which I found especially helpful.  Read it, and be encouraged and inspired to search Isaiah for yourself.

The great objective — fight, too — of the Christian life is to be what we are. Not seeking or striving after some future blessing but exploring and experiencing ever more fully the complete salvation given to us in Jesus. Does not the Bible call him our ‘righteousness, sanctification and redemption’ (1 Cor. 1:30)? What more is there? Does not the Bible say that the Father has blessed us (past tense) with every spiritual blessing in Christ (Eph. 1:3)? So what more is there to give? Salvation is like a great hamper filled full of every possible blessing of God, and our task is to discover — personally, progressively, ceaselessly —what has thus been given to us once for all. Suppose someone is pronounced ‘cured’ after a long, weakening illness. Convalescence lies ahead with the constant choice between acquiescing in the body’s experienced feebleness, or acting resolutely, maybe even painfully, certainly progressively on the expert diagnosis, and slowly entering into new-found health. That is where we meet Isaiah today. In effect he is saying wrath is over (v. 17), holiness is yours (v. 1), new life awaits (v. 11), so wake up to what you are and have, and gird your loins for a new Exodus. Believe that his wrath is a thing of the past, dress yourself in your new robe of righteousness, start walking the separated pathway. Yahweh has himself taken away his wrath (v. 22), himself accomplished the total work of salvation (v. 10), and himself will accompany you protectively on your journey (v. 12). Let us ask ourselves why Romans 8:30 says that the Lord ‘glorified us’, using the same past tense as when it says he ‘justified’ us? Or why does Ephesians 2:6 speak of us as already seated in the heavenly places? Or Colossians 3:1 that we ‘were raised with Christ’? This is a divine expert diagnosis like the doctor’s pronouncement ‘you are cured’. We feel our weakness; we are summoned to lay hold on our strength.

How shall I give thee up Ephraim. Cantata 89

I am pretty sure our minister, Claire Earl, didn’t know that the text she preached on this morning, Hosea 11, is used as the opening chorus of one of the Bach Cantatas for this very Sunday (the 22nd after Trinity)

Was soll ich aus dir machen, Ephraim, How shall I give thee up Ephraim? takes up the theme of judgment from the gospel of the day, the parable of the unjust steward in Matthew 18:23-25.

As in so many cantatas, the journey from law and judgment to grace and gospel leads to this wonderfully joyful aria. At the least the music is joyful. At first glance, perhaps the words less so.

Righteous God, ah, do you judge?
Then for the salvation of my soul
I will count the drops of blood from Jesus.
Ah! Reckon the total to my account!
Indeed, since no one can fathom it,
it will conceal my guilt and sin.

In his liner notes to his Bach Cantata Pilgrimage records from 2000, John Eliot Gardiner has this to say:

Given the seriousness of the text – a balance sheet of sins committed against the drops of Jesus’ redeeming blood – the ensuing aria for soprano and oboe seems astonishingly secular in it gaiety. [1]

But Gardiner has misunderstood the nature of the balance sheet. Jesus redeeming blood is, as Isaiah says in Isaiah 40:2, a complete match (doubled over as an exact covering) for all our guilt and sin. There is no possibility of a deficit.

The message of Hosea is stark. Israel (like us) was “bent on turning away” and deserved death for rebellion and sin. This is portrayed the starkest of terms. And judgment does come. And yet God says in Hosea 11:9, “I will not execute my burning anger.” How can God keep his covenant of love and grace, and at the same time show his justice and righteousness? Kevin Logan comments:

When Hosea first received this message from God, a huge question mark must have hovered in his mind. His faith in the justice of God must have been tested to the outer limits. Nevertheless he passed on the message…God had made his decision. There was no more to be said . . . at least not for another 700 years [2]

Here’s the answer. Bach understood this, and so does the incomparable Joanne Lunn in Gardiner’s recording from his cantata pilgrimage.  Jesus paid it all. No wonder this aria is so joyful. Nothing secular here. Bach didn’t understand the meaning of the word. This is Jesus calling his true love (as he does in most of Bach) to join us in the dance.

You can watch the movement here (sadly not with Joanne Lunn singing though)

[1] Liner notes to SDG171, Bach Cantata Pilgrimage volume 12. p. 8
[2] Logan, K. (1978). What is love?: Hosea. London: Fount Paperbacks.

If Bach were my worship leader…why bother with Bach?

Over 20 years ago a Japanese organist and conductor, Masaaki Suzuki, embarked on a project to record all the sacred cantatas of Johann Sebastian Bach. Suzuki introduced the first recording of what ended up as a series of 55 CDs of 196 works which make up what we have today of Bach’s output of sacred cantatas, with the following words (dated in the CD liner notes as “The 50th anniversary of VJ-day, 15th August 1995”)

It may seem strange to think that the Japanese perform the cantatas of Johann Sebastian Bach, who was one of the most important figures in the history of German music…  ‘How is it that the Japanese, with such a different cultural heritage, dare play the music of Bach?’ – this is typical of the sort of question with which I was often confronted when living and performing in Holland a number of years ago…[1]

Suzuki talks about what caused him to embark on such an ambitious cycle, finally completed 18 years later in 2013. He says that “the God in whose service Bach laboured and the God I worship today are one and the same.” Bach’s music is “a true product of German culture” which gives a Japanese some difficulties, but “what is most important in infusing a Bach cantata score in real life in performance is a deep insight into the fundamental religious message each work carries” [1]

Concluding his thoughts in the last volume (volume 55) of the series, Suzuki implies that Bach’s cantatas are God-breathed in the same way as the scriptures.

Humbly I state that J S Bach and I believe in the same God. I am directly linked to the music of Bach through God. I have come to understand how Bach believed in God, as Bach inscribed his inner belief through his cantatas… With the help of his disciples, God left us the Bible. Into the hands of Bach, He delivered the cantata. This is why it is our mission to keep performing them: we must pass on God’s message through these works, and sing them to express the Glory of God. Soli Deo Gloria! [2]

So with the words, Soli Deo Gloria, to the glory of God alone, which Bach wrote at the end of his sacred and secular works, Suzuki proclaims Bach as the fifth evangelist, as others have done before him [3].

It is not only Suzuki who has been inspired to Herculean efforts by Bach’s cantatas. On Christmas Day 1999, in Weimar, John Eliot Gardiner embarked on his Bach Cantata pilgrimage with the aim of “performing all Bach’s surviving church cantatas in the course of the year 2000, the 250th anniversary of Bach’s death.” Further cycles of the cantatas are underway or have been recently completed from Ton Koopman, Philip Herreweghe, Sigiswald Kuijken, and almost every week another cantata recording seems to appear, not least in this year (2017) of the 500th anniversary of the Reformation.  John Eliot Gardiner doesn’t mince his words as he claims that Bach “gives us the voice of God – in human form” [4].

I am fascinated by the impact that Bach’s music has had over the centuries and still has today. From Soviet communist students in the 1970s [5], to the Japanese of the new millennium, where Masaaki Suzuki has been reported as saying that he is convinced that tens of thousands of Japanese have been baptized because of Bach [6].  I myself have found Bach’s music to be very helpful in my Christian faith, pointing me back, as Suzuki puts it, to the God that Bach worshipped and that I worship today, and to his Word in the Bible.

Much research has been undertaken into the music of Bach, the cultural and social context and theology of the time, as well as the transmission of his music since, and impact today. Encouragingly, as Jeremy Begbie has noted, “there is much to suggest that the time is ripe for a new and rewarding conversation between theologians and musicians regarding this stupendously gifted craftsman of sound” [7].

But as far as I can determine, few if any have applied this to the context of a musician working in the church today. Even fewer have thought about his relevance to the work of a worship leader using contemporary worship music in the evangelical church, as I do. So, I have to ask myself, why not? Bach worshipped the same God that I do.  His pastors preached the Bible, as mine do.  And although Bach was not a committed Pietist, there are many aspects of Pietism that influenced the libretti of his cantatas [8], and appear to me to contain many of the same elements of mainstream evangelicalism and the charismatic movement (with quite a few of the same criticisms). We can trace a line from Pietism down to the present day, a recent example I have encountered being the influence of Count von Zinzendorf on Pete Greig and the 24×7 prayer movement [9].

Ruth Tatlow, in her book Bach’s Numbers, has written, in a musicological context, of the problem of hearing and thinking as Bach did.

The many philosophical and musical differences between Bach and ourselves are increasingly irreconcilable. A face-to-face conversation with Bach would be the simplest way to answer many of these questions, but as this is impossible the musicologist has to confront the problem and decide: either to give up any ambition to hear and think as Bach did, content to discover twenty-first-century resonances in his music; or to continue to attempt to hear as Bach did, and strive to understand the universe and music as he understood it. [10]

Like Tatlow, I choose the latter, and believe there must be value in attempting to understand the world in which Bach wrote, and therefore what makes Bach music speak to us of God so directly today, and how we could take those principles and apply them the worship of the church today, and especially to the context in which I mostly work – contemporary evangelical church worship.

I am not saying that all evangelical churches should add the occasional Bach Cantata to their repertoire of Chris Tomlin and Matt Redman [11], although Keith Getty has used the music of Bach in at least one of his songs (A Worker’s Prayer) and has called him “my hero for sure” and “the model of a church musician’’ [12]. I am saying, however, that Getty is right. Bach is the model of a church musician and, as such, there are things in the life and music of Johann Sebastian Bach, which can teach us how to be better church musicians, and something about how we use music in worship today.  That will help us in our day to day task of leading worship, and will also lead us to a deeper appreciation of Bach’s music itself.

It can legitimately be asked how a 20th Century musician leading a worship band can learn anything from an 18th Century musician leading concerted music with a baroque orchestra and choir in a cavernous, and often freezing Lutheran church.  I think this is a bit like the question that Suzuki has said was posed to him: ‘How is it that the Japanese, with such a different cultural heritage, dare play the music of Bach?’ [1]. The issue for us is not simply geographical/cultural or theological but also chronological distance. But the answer is the same one Suzuki gave which I referred to above: we worship the same God, Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever. As Christians, we may be able to find something in the music of Bach which people who don’t share his faith, although knowledgeable, might miss. Jeremy Begbie expresses a similar view when he asks:

Why should serious scholarship not consider the possibility that Bach’s music might articulate a disturbing resistance to some of the metaphysical and, indeed, theological (or anti-theological) axes on which modernity and much modern scholarship have habitually turned. [13]

If we use what Begbie calls a “biblically rooted perspective” [14] then I believe we can find the principles behind Bach’s music, and extract them from the time and place and give them a more eternal perspective which sounds down into the present day. Then we will have found something extremely valuable.  And if we think there is nothing to learn, then could we not be guilty of what C. S. Lewis called chronological snobbery?

This is not just hagiography, along the lines of those who claim that Bach was “never known to speak a word of complaint” [15]. A quick flick through Bach’s letters in A New Bach Reader will soon dispel that illusion [16]. But there’s value there too. The frustrations Bach had are not that different from those of any church musician, and we can learn both positively and negatively from how he handled them.

In the end, none of the above is particularly controversial. You might suggest that I am largely wasting my time, but if something good comes out of it that’s fine. However, there are a couple of areas which have got me into trouble before which I would like to explore.

Firstly, Harold M Best’s statement that music is without moral quality has always troubled me [17]. It troubles quite a few others in the more conservative evangelical stable too, but seems to have been accepted as orthodoxy elsewhere.  I would like to explore the nature of Bach’s music and, if possible, unpack a thought that there is something inherent in way Bach’s music is put together which makes it particularly suited to carry Biblical (propositional) truth. In this context, Ken Myers has argued that “Theologically conservative Christians adept at defending propositional truths often neglect the task of learning to discern non-propositional meaning” [18].  I will try to argue that Bach’s music is full of non-propositional meaning of the most Christian sort!

Secondly, the other orthodoxy is that music from all periods, all traditions of the Christian church is equally valid to be used in worship.  Let’s use (from a very non-exhaustive list) Gregorian Chant, the Eton Choir Book, Josquin, Palestrina, Tallis, Byrd, Purcell, Wesley, Fuguing tunes, Sankey, Elgar, James Macmillan, John Taverner.  My heart says yes, but my head says, wait a minute.  We would not use words from all periods of the Christian church in evangelical, bible-based worship.  We would recognise that there have been periods in the church that have been particularly fruitful in Christian thought, writing and preaching. We might cite (in another all too short short-list) the Reformation, the Puritans, the Wesleys and Whitfield, Spurgeon. Why could there not be periods in the Church that have been particularly fruitful in producing music for worship? I think particularly of periods of revival for example. I’m not so convinced of this second proposition. But I think it’s worth exploring, particularly in the context of understanding why Bach and his music came at the time it did.

So, if we can, in Ruth Tatlow’s words, “strive to understand the universe and music as [Bach] understood it” [9], and understand Bach’s music itself, perhaps we will be able to find why his music continues to have such an impact, and perhaps bottle some his “secret sauce” to pour liberally over our own efforts at leading music in worship today.


[1] Suzuki, Masaaki (1995). [Liner notes]. In Johann Sebastian Bach, Bach Collegium Japan, Masaaki Suzuki – Cantatas Vol.1 [CD]. Åkersberga, Sweden: BIS Records AB, 4

[2] Suzuki, Masaaki (2013). [Liner notes]. In Johann Sebastian Bach, Bach Collegium Japan, Masaaki Suzuki – Cantatas Vol.55 [CD]. Åkersberga, Sweden: BIS Records AB, 5

[3] According to Christoph Wolff, “The course was set in the nineteenth century. With the authoritative writings of Spitta and Rust, the concept of the ‘Fifth Evangelist’ was preordained.” In a footnote (12) he notes that “The notion of “Bach the fifth Evangelist” goes back to Nathan Söderblom, [1866-1931] the Swedish theologian, cf. Hans Besch, ‘J. S. Bach. Frömmigkeit und Glaube’ 2d ed. (Kassel, 1950), p. 3.” Wolff, C. (1999). Bach: essays on his life and music. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univ. Press, 285 and footnote 12.

[4] Gardiner, John Eliot (2013). Music in the Castle of Heaven: A Portrait of Johann Sebastian Bach. London: Allen Lane, 558

[5] Robin Leaver (2001). Bach, a Preacher? at 8’43’’. Retrieved from http://www.veritas.org/talks/bach-preacher/

[6] Weigel, G. (2001). Bach Converts Japan. Retrieved from  https://eppc.org/publications/bach-converts-japan/

[7] Begbie, J. (2015). Music, modernity, and God: essays in listening. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 41.

[8] Pelikan, J. (2003). Bach among the theologians. Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 56-71.

[9] Greig, P. (2017). Dirty Glory. London: Hodder & Stoughton

[10] Tatlow, R. (2016). Bach’s Numbers: Compositional Proportion and Significance. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 34

[11] Although, why not? One of the most wonderful performances of a Bach cantata I have heard was of Cantata 140, Wachet Auf, in the context of an evensong at an evangelical Anglican church, with a sermon preached (in this case before the cantata, not afterwards) explaining and expounding the Bible passages on which the cantata is based. It probably helped that my daughter was playing the oboe obbligato. The involvement of family for a worship leader is something we might explore further when we look at Bach’s own family and heritage.

[12] 9marks (2017). Music for the Church: Mark Dever Interviews Keith Getty. Retrieved from https://www.9marks.org/interview/music-for-the-church-mark-dever-interviews-keith-getty/, at 11’57’’

[13] Begbie, J. (2015). Music, modernity, and God: essays in listening. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 72.

[14] Begbie, J. (2015). Music, modernity, and God: essays in listening. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 48.

[15] Kavanaugh, P. (1992). The spiritual lives of the great composers. Milton Keynes, Eng.: Word Publishing, 34

[16] David, H. T., Mendel, A., & Wolff, C. (1999). The new Bach reader: a life of Johann Sebastian Bach in letters and documents. New York: W.W. Norton. For example see Bach’s resignation letter from Mühlhausen on page 57, or his dispute with the Rector Ernesti of the Thomasschule, Leipzig, on page 189ff.

[17] See Best, H.M. (1993). Music Through the Eyes of Faith. San Francisco: HarperOne.

[18] 9marks (2014). Music and Meaning: Some Forms Are Better than Others. Retrieved from https://www.9marks.org/article/journalmusic-and-meaning-some-forms-are-better-others/

Musical Advent Calendar – 12.La Peregrinación

La Peregrinación, the Pilgrimage, is a carol by the Argentinian Composer Ariel Ramirez, best known for his Misa Criolla, one of the first masses written in the vernacular, after that was permitted by the Second Vatican Council.

I first got to know it through the wonderful arrangement from the King’s Singers featured below, and only recently discovered that it’s part of a larger six movement work called Navidad Nuestra (Our Nativity) composed in 1964. The texts are by Félix Luna and each movement uses traditional Argentine dances and songs. For La Peregrinación Ramirez uses the popular folk dance huella pampeana and the lyricist locates the story in the north of his native Argentina, adding words from the indigenous guaraní language. La Huella is a narrow path across the pampas formed by the tracks of a horse or mule, but alluding to the folk dance ‘a la huella’ can also means ‘keep dancing’ and this creates the rather appealing image of Joseph and Mary dancing their way across the plains.

THE PILGRIMAGE

A la huella, a la huella
José y María,
por las pampas heladas
cardos y ortigas.

Follow the trail, follow the trail
Joseph and Mary
Across the frozen Pampas (South American plains)
Thistles and nettles.

Follow the trail, follow the trail
Cutting through the fields
There is no shelter, no inn
Keep on walking.

Little flower in the field,
Carnation of the air
If no one puts you up
Where will you be born?

Where will you be born, little flower?
Now that you are growing
Frightened dove
Sleepless cricket

Follow the trail, follow the trail
Joseph and Mary
With a hidden God
Nobody knew

Follow the trail, follow the trail
The pilgrims
Lend me a ruined house
For my child

Follow the trail, follow the trail
Through suns and moons
The little almond eyes
Olive skin.

Oh, little donkey in the field
Oh, reddish-grey ox
My child is coming
Make some space for him

A thatched hut
Is the only shelter I have
Two friendly breaths (the ox and the donkey)
The bright moon

Follow the trail, follow the trail
Joseph and Mary
With a hidden God
Nobody knew

 

LA PEREGRINACIÓN

A la huella, a la huella
José y María,
por las pampas heladas
cardos y ortigas.

A la huella, a la huella
cortando campo,
no hay cobijo ni fondo
sigan andando.

Florecita del campo,
clavel del aire,
si ninguno te aloja
¿dónde naces?

¿Dónde naces, florecita,
que estás creciendo,
palomita asustada,
grillo sin sueño?

A la huella, a la huella
José y María
con un Dios escondido,
nadie sabía.

A la huella, a la huella
los peregrinos,
préstenme una tapera
para mi Niño.

A la huella, a la huella
soles y lunas,
los ojitos de almendra,
piel de aceituna.

¡Ay burrito del campo!
¡Ay buey barcino!
¡Que mi Niño ya viene,
háganle sitio!

Un ranchito de quincha,
sólo me ampara,
dos alientos amigos
la luna clara.

A la huella, a la huella
José y María
con un Dios escondido,
nadie sabía.