Each Wednesday during Lent you are invited to spend some reflective time with organ music by J. S. Bach. Each week a video will be added here on the church website with a chorale prelude played on Westminster’s organ by our organist Jonathan Schakel. 

March 3, 2021

Devotion

This week’s chorale text takes us back to the early 16th century when Martin Luther was strengthening his ideas of reformation. During Lent of 1524, his sermons were centered on the sacrament of Holy Communion and he wrote this poem to provide an opportunity for his congregation to remember the concepts by singing them as hymns. The chorale tune is older still, being based on “Jesus Christus nostra salus” from 14th century Bohemia.

The first two stanzas provide an overview of Christ’s suffering and death “that we never should forget it” and of the presence of Christ in the “poor bread” and wine. The third and fourth stanzas remind us that the faith we bring to the table will allow us to receive food to feed our souls. But for me, the fifth stanza is the most important and something I had forgotten over the years of receiving Communion: that when we are fed we are both able and required to be food for our neighbors as God, through Christ and the sacrament, is food for us. 

Johann Sebastian Bach’s chorale preludes reminded his 18th century listeners of the hymns they were singing much as Jonathan’s preludes and postludes often draw on the hymns we sing during worship. BWV 665 states the four lines of the hymn tune just once in four long phrases. The tune is well hidden in the upper voices, but listen for each phrase in the lowest line, played in the pedals. The third long phrase makes the closest connection to the text’s first verse, portraying “his suffering sore and main” in chromatic (slithery) lines.  

Especially during this pandemic, let us draw inspiration from Martin Luther and J.S. Bach to be food for our neighbors and our communities.

— Jane Edmister Penner

Chorale
Johann Sebastian Bach
Jesus Christus, unser Heiland (BWV 665)

Christ Jesus, our Redeemer born,
Who from us did God’s anger turn,
Through His sufferings sore and main,
Did help us all out of hell-pain.

That we never should forget it,
Gave He us His flesh, to eat it,
Hid in poor bread, gift divine,
And, to drink, His blood in the wine.

Have this faith, and do not waver, 
‘Tis a food for every craver,
Each whose heart with sin oppressed,
Can no more for its anguish rest.

If such faith thy heart possesses,
And the same thy mouth confesses,
Fit guest then thou art indeed,
And so the food thy soul will feed.

But bear fruit, or lose thy labors:
Take thou heed and love thy neighbors;
That thou food to them may be,
As thy God does like for thee. 

— Martin Luther (1524), tr. Charles Sanford Terry (alt.)

February 24, 2021

Devotion
The chorale “Erbarm dich mein, o Herre Gott” (trans. “Have mercy, Lord, my God, for the sake of my tears”) paraphrases the penitential Psalm 51. In Bach’s St. Matthew’s Passion the alto aria “Erbarm dich, mein Gott” echoes the psalm text to express the sorrow and regret Peter must have felt after denying Jesus three times. I think it also invites the listener to hear Psalm 51 with new ears. The psalm invites introspection and reflection on those times when we have betrayed our own values or gone back on our word. Indeed, we may tell ourselves and others that we would never do that or say that or walk back our deeply held convictions, but when the moment is at hand, what do we do? What do we say? Are we willing to admit our personal association with Jesus? Obviously, Peter fails. Before Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion, I am sure Peter had said many times that he would never betray Jesus, that he would always be his loyal friend. The text of the chorale gives voice to Peter’s heart-felt need for forgiveness and mercy: 

Have mercy on me, Lord my God,

Of kindness Thou hast ever more,

Cleanse my offenses with Thy blood,

I own my sin; it grieves me sore.

Are we like Peter? Do we have something we need to confess to God? Peter’s prayer of contrition encourages us that we, too, can seek forgiveness for what we have done or left undone.

Currently, I am reading To Live Woke by Rupert W. Nacoste. Nacoste’s insights reveal my blind spots, my naïve understandings about race, and my sin. As a 6’ 2”, deep voiced, white privileged, and culturally insulated male, I have much to learn and unlearn. Bach’s melodious tones and Psalm 51 shape my prayer of confession as a white male who has benefitted from the color of my skin:

I own my sin, it grieves me sore.

I’ve sinned against Thy whole command,

This truth confronts me constantly.

In this season of Lent, think about the sin of prejudice and how easily we are complicit in perpetuating racial violence, stereotypes and inequity. Have mercy, Lord, my God, for the sake of my tears as well as those times when I betray you by not acting or saying what is right and just. Amen.
-Ken Henry

Chorale
Johann Sebastian Bach
Erbarm dich mein, o Herre Gott (BWV 721)

Have mercy on me, Lord my God,
Of kindness Thou hast ever more,
Cleanse my offenses with Thy blood,
I own my sin, it grieves me sore.
I’ve sinned against Thy whole command,
This truth confronts me constantly;
Before Thee evil cannot stand,
And Thou art just to punish me.

Behold, Lord, I was born in sin,
In sin conceived with great distress,
Truth Thou desirest deep within,
Lay bare Thy wisdom’s graciousness.
With hyssop, Lord, asperge my flesh,
If washed by Thee, then I am pure,
More white than snow, more glad and fresh,
My bones rejoice to find their cure.

O Lord, view not my sin obscene;
Remove all my unrighteousness,
And make my heart within me clean,
A spirit new within me dress.
From out Thy presence cast me not,
Thy Holy Ghost do not decline,
Salvation’s joy, O Lord, allot,
And let the Spirit keep me Thine.
— E. Hegenwalt (1524), tr. Matthew Carver