This coming Sunday, the fourth after Easter, is Cantate Sunday, so named because the first words of the Mass introit are Cantate Domino novum canticum, “Sing ye to the Lord a new song.” The three cantatas on this disc, CD 18, are: "Wo gehest du hin?" (BWV 166 “Whither goest thou?”), "Es ist euch gut, das ich hingehe," (BWV 108, “It is expedient for you, that I go away”), and "Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchsten Gut" (BWV 117, “Give laud and praise to the highest good”).
The CD sleeve picture is of a boy in Mali---Timbuktu, in fact, a name not uncommonly used as a metaphor for any place a long way away.
In the CD notes, conductor John Eliot Gardiner comments that these cantatas seem less dramatic than other post-Resurrection cantatas, which I thought so, too, as I listened to them in the early morning (swatting away one of our cats who wants to walk on the laptop keyboard). But (Gardiner writes), “Bach is constantly challenging his listeners to consider what it is to be alive, using his music to tease new meanings out of the Gospel texts.” In BWV 166, for instance, Bach “reminds us how ephemeral human life is, and what a potential mess we make of it and its opportunities; but how there are signposts to be read, props to lean on and compass bearings to bring us back on course, even at the times when we sense we are most alone...”
The Gospel texts have to do with Jesus’ leave-taking in John 16. Christ was going to someplace a lot farther than Timbuktu, and the disciples weren't sure how they could cope. ("Wo gehest du hin?" the singer asks over and over in the first number.) They didn't understand that the risen Christ would be more close to them than ever before. In BWV 166, we have contrasting moods: the concern of the disciples, the lively happiness of a minuet which Bach inserts into the drama, and finally the quietness of the concluding chorale. Early in the cantata, the question of the title is turned back to the disciples:
“For whether I depart or stay,
the question always occurs to me:
man, ah! man, where are you going?”
This is a theme of Bach's cantatas, as we've seen several times. We need to hold to Christ and follow Christ faithfully, which is the only smart way we'll get through. Life's uncertainty is also a theme of this piece:
"Just as rainwater soon subsides
and many colours easily fade,
so it is with pleasure in this world,
which many men think highly of;
for though one sees from time to time
one’s hoped-for fortunes bloom,
yet it can happen, when all goes well,
that the final hour will abruptly strike."
Gardiner writes that the second cantata is structurally very similar to the first, as if Bach had the earlier one on his desk as he composed the second. “Both works are constructed on a sort of arpeggiated tonal staircase of keys suggestive of the imminent descent of the holy spirit at Pentecost (leading downwards in BWV 166 from B flat to g, c, D, Bflat, and g,and in BWV108 from A to fsharp, D to b). It is significant that BWV 108 fleshes out the central issue dealt with more summarily in BWV 166. ‘Whither goest thou?’ carries with it an explanation, ‘It is expedient for you that I go away’, the following year.”
The third cantata is not written for a particular Sunday but its theme fits with the other post-Resurrection pieces: the anxiety of God’s followers in light of Jesus’ eventual departure to heaven, along with the promise that God is never “severed from His people.” All the numbers end with the words “Give honor to our God.” In the CD notes, Gardiner explains (with more detail than I should copy here) the French influences and number symbolism that Bach employs in what might otherwise have been a less colorful text.
All the words are lovely but I especially liked the final aria:
"When strength and help are lacking,
as all the world bears witness,
He comes and helps abundantly,
the Creator himself, and inclines
His Father’s eyes to those
who otherwise find no repose.
Give honour to our God!"
As I've been writing here in recent posts, my wife Beth and I lost our mothers within a 14-month time period in 2012 and 2013. Neither Beth nor I take our lives for granted, but the loss of a parent is among other things an enormous reminder of one's own mortality. We both have "good genes"---relatives who lived into old age---but that is no guarantee of the future.
Bach's recurring themes of death and trouble find expression again this week in these post-Resurrection cantatas. Another of Bach's themes is Christ's call of discipleship. It occurs to me that, in the hands of us preachers, that call can seem more demanding than happy: we say in effect, "what have you done for the Lord lately? Why aren't you serving Christ more completely?" After all, discipleship is a costly thing, so we have to remind people, lest they fall into "cheap grace."
Bach's cantatas are a lovely corrective to this one-sided emphasis. Discipleship may be costly, but it is also a cheap---and in fact, totally free---anchor for our lives. Many religious traditions teach the lasting peace that is found in affirming God, who is our true reality among the ephemeral and ultimately unsatisfying realities of life. My Muslim friends, for instance, find peace in submission to God; similarly my Hindu colleagues.
In our Christian tradition, we rely upon God's unconditional love and promise to get us through life's difficulties--to give us signposts and bearings, as Gardiner writes. In the Gospel lesson from John, Christ affirms that he goes away (i.e. dies) in order that he might be spiritually present for his followers, unlimited by time and geography. We're so accustomed to the affirmation of Christ's resurrection, that we forget what a momentous assurance it can be when we have all kinds of distress and fears.
As indicated in the CD notes, all English translations of texts are by Richard Stokes.
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