Wonder at the Incarnation: O Magnum Mysterium

Wonder at the Incarnation 

“O Magnum Mysterium” is an ancient responsorial song expressing our wonder at the Incarnation, that the Savior of the Universe should come into our world in a stable with animals as his witnesses:

O magnum mysterium,

et admirabile sacramentum,

ut animalia viderent Dominum natum,

iacentem in praesepio!

O great mystery,

and wonderful sacrament,

that animals should see the new-born Lord,

lying in a manger!

A wonder indeed.  I’ve often thought that, however amazing it is that God could create this immeasurable universe, there’s something much more astounding: He chose to become one of us, to join us here in this little corner of His universe.

We all need to be reminded from time to time just how unfathomable the Incarnation really is.

 O Magnum Mysterium 

The text of “O Magnum Mysterium” is at least a thousand years old. For a long time it was part of the Christmas Office of Matins. Today it is more often a hymn at Midnight Mass.  It originated, of course, as a chant. It has had many different musical settings, however, over the centuries.Composers from Byrd and Palestrina in the 16th century through Poulenc, Lauridsen and Gjielo in the twentieth have graced the ancient text with their music.

Years ago I heard Lauridsen’s lovely version of  “O Magnum Mysterium” (published in 1994) sung by a vocal group from a local public high school. They did a beautiful job.  I’m posting below a performance of the same piece. Here the Youth Choir of St. Jacob’s Church in Stockholm, Sweden sings Lauridson’s setting of “O Magnum Mysterium.”  You can find both the Latin and English text below the clip.

 

Latin and English Text  

Latin

O magnum mysterium,

et admirabile sacramentum,

ut animalia viderent Dominum natum,

jacentem in praesepio!

Beata Virgo, cujus viscera

meruerunt portare

Dominum Christum.

Alleluia.

English

O great mystery,

and wonderful sacrament,

that animals should see the new-born Lord,

lying in a manger!

Blessed is the Virgin whose womb

was worthy to bear

Christ the Lord.

Alleluia!

Fickle Fame and Salieri’s “Gloria”

Fickle Fame

  Fickle Fame is a confounding thing. It’s often the way that a well-regarded artist falls out of fashion. Despite the worthiness of his or her work, the artist is forgotten by subsequent generations. Even truly great artists can meet this fate: The 16th century poet John Donne was largely unknown until another poet, T.S. Eliot, rediscovered him in the 20th century. Almost nobody remembered Johann Sebastian Bach for a century until composer Felix Mendelssohn revived his music in the 1820’s.

     Not every forgotten artist, sadly, has an Eliot or a Mendelssohn come to his rescue – although sometimes redemption comes from an unexpected direction . . .

[click HERE to continue reading this post and to hear Salieri’s “Gloria” at Spes in Domino]

I Rejoiced! Monteverdi’s “Laetatus Sum”

I Rejoiced – 16 January 2023

Jerusalem - I rejoiced
Jerusalem from The Nuremburg Chronicle, 1493

 

It’s not easy . . .

Monteverdi - I rejoiced
The only certain portrait of Claudio Monteverdi, from the title page of Fiori poetici, a 1644 book of commemorative poems for his funeral (Wikipedia)

It’s not easy to be a pioneer.  But that was the path Claudio Monteverdi followed.  He straddled the fifteenth and sixteenth cenuries, living from 1567 to 1643.  Monteverdi worked in both secular and religious music, and was a key figure in the development of opera, among other things. The composer introduced numerous innovations to the music of his time, playing a large role in the development of Renaissance music into baroque.

As we noted above, innovators don’t always enjoy smooth sailing.  Individuals invested in the status quo will fight fiercely to preserve said status quo (and along with it, of course, their own importance).  It’s no surprise, then, that Monteverdi received his share of criticism.  We may be surprised to learn that even a thing as commonplace (to us) as harmony caused an enormous controversy.

I Rejoiced

All those disputes, of course are centuries behind us.  We still listen to Monteverd’s music today because it’s beautiful and inspiring.  On an earlier occasion I posted “Nisi Dominus” from Monteverdi’s Vespro Della Beata Vergine (a musical setting for Vespers, or Evening Prayer).  Today I’m following up with another selection from the same composition, “Laetatus Sum”.

“Laetatus Sum” (I rejoiced) is a musical rendition of Psalm 122 (see the English translation below from the RSV).  The Psalm itself celebrates the joy and peace one can find in “The House of the Lord.”

Jerusalem Old and New

     The ancient psalmist was no doubt referring principally to the actual Jerusalem of his day, and the Temple of stone and wood built upon its heights. We, looking back through the lens of God’s Revelation in Jesus Christ, can see a deeper meaning. The Book of Revelation speaks of “the Holy City, the New Jerusalem, coming down out of Heaven from God” (Rev 21:2). In other words, the psalmist’s Jerusalem also represents our Heavenly Destination, Deo volente.

The New Testament, as St. Augustine pointed out, is concealed in the Old, and the Old Testament is revealed in the New. And here, beautifully put to music.

“Laetatus Sum” – English Baroque Soloists

The music in this clip features:
– Ensemble: English Baroque Soloists
– Choirs: Monteverdi Choir / London Oratory Junior Choir
– Conductor: John Eliot Gardiner
– Soloists: Michael Chance (Countertenor), Bryn Terfel (Bass), Alastair Miles (Bass), Ann Monoyios (Soprano), Sandro Naglia (Tenor), Nigel Robson (Tenor), Mark Tucker (Tenor)

I Rejoiced – Psalm 122

I was glad when they said to me,
“Let us go to the house of the LORD!”
Our feet have been standing
within your gates, O Jerusalem!


Jerusalem, built as a city
which is bound firmly together,
to which the tribes go up,
the tribes of the LORD,
as was decreed for Israel,
to give thanks to the name of the LORD.
There thrones for judgment were set,
the thrones of the house of David.


Pray for the peace of Jerusalem!
“May they prosper who love you!
Peace be within your walls, and

security within your towers!”

For my brethren and companions’ sake
I will say, “Peace be within you!”
For the sake of the house of the LORD our God,
I will seek your good.

1st Sunday of Advent 2ndSunday of Advent 4th Sunday of Advent A Christmas Carol Advent Advent Music agape Catholic Catholicism Christ christianity Christmas Christmas Music Christmas Season Christ the King Church Architecture Conversion Conversion of St. Paul Despair Dickens Faith Hope Jesus Jesus Christ John the Baptist Justice Latin Lent Liturgical Year Love Martyrdom Mercy Music Of the Father's Love Begotten Patron Saints Prudentius Redemption Sacred Art Sacred Music Saints Santa Claus Scripture Spiritual Warfare St. Ignatius Loyola The Church

We Three Kings: Music for Epiphany

Murillo - We Three Kings
The Adoration of the Magi, by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, 1655-1600

We Three Kings

“We Three Kings of Orient Are . . .”  Is there anyone out there who doesn’t know this song? It’s easily the most familiar hymn associated with Epiphany, at least as it’s celebrated in the Western Church. I wrote more extensively about Epiphany itself in my post on Janauary 6th, the traditional date of the feast (Epiphany – Faith vs. Power).  Because today is the formal liturgical celebration in many dioceses, I’d like to focus briefly on the song.

“We Three Kings” was written by John Henry Hopkins, jr. in 1857.  At the time he was rector of Christ Episcopal Church in Williamsport, Pennsylvania.  At the same time he was a deacon and music teacher at General Theological Seminary in New York City.  He composed the song for a Christmas pageant at the the seminary.

Over the next few years, Hopkins shared the song every year with his family and friends.  Everyone thought highly enough of “We Three Kings” that Hopkins published it in a book of carols and religious songs in 1863.  It achieved wide popularity in United States, and was published in Britain in 1928. It has since become one of the most popular Christmas carols. You can read a fuller treatment of the song’s history here.

Last year’s Epiphany reflection: “9th Day of Christmas: The Feast of Epiphany

Epiphany, by Fernando Gallego, 1480-1490

King, Priest, and Prophet

  In the first stanza of the song, we hear the Magi, the wise men from the East from the second chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, introduce themselves as “We Three Kings.”  Each king in turn describes the gift he brings to baby Jesus in the next three stanzas.  These are the three gifts we see in the Gospel account: Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh.  Each gift denotes one of Christ’s roles as savior.  Gold represents kingship, Frankincense priesthood. Myrrh, which was used in embalming bodies, pointed to his prophetic death.  All three kings sing together again in the final stanza.

The Wikipedia entry tells us that

The carol’s melody has been described as “sad” and “shifting” in nature. Because of this, it highly resembles a song from the Middle Ages and Middle Eastern music, both of which it has been frequently compared to.

The beautiful and solemn performance of “We Three Kings” in the clip below gives the song an appropriately regal air.  The Choir of King’s College, Cambridge sings the song.  I have included several artistic depictions of the Three Wise men from different eras.  The words are posted beneath.

May you have a blessed Epiphany!

We Three Kings Clip

We Three Kings:

AllWe Three Kings of Orient are,
Bearing gifts we traverse afar,
Field and fountain,
Moor and mountain,
Following yonder Star.
RefrainO Star of Wonder, Star of Night,
Star with Royal Beauty bright,
Westward leading,
Still proceeding,
Guide us to Thy perfect Light.
GaspardBorn a King on Bethlehem plain,
Gold I bring to crown Him again,
King for ever,
Ceasing never
Over us all to reign.
Refrain
MelchiorFrankincense to offer have I,
Incense owns a Deity nigh:
Prayer and praising
All men raising,
Worship Him God on High.
Refrain
BalthazarMyrrh is mine; its bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom;—
Sorrowing, sighing,
Bleeding, dying,
Sealed in the stone-cold tomb.
Refrain
AllGlorious now behold Him arise,
King, and God, and Sacrifice;
Heav’n sings Hallelujah:
Hallelujah the earth replies.
Refrain

Mozart Makes The Gloria Soar

Angels Announcing the Birth of Christ to the Shepherds, by Govert Flinck, 1639

The Gloria

     The Gloria starts with “Glory to God in the highest . . .”  If you frequent the Catholic Mass, you know this prayer.  You’ve heard it hundreds of times, maybe thousands.  But how much do you know about it? Or have you ever wondered where it comes from, or how it got into the Mass?

     First of all, it’s not itself in the Bible. At the same time, you’ve probably noticed that it takes much of it’s content from holy Scripture. The first line, for instance, comes directly from the Gospel of Luke: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will!” (Luke 2:14). This is the passage where the angels announce the birth of the Savior to the shepherds of Bethlehem.

Biblical References

     The rest of the prayer draws on scripture in much the same way.  The following list was compiled by Fr. James Chelich (full article here):

 

Lord God (Exodus 20:7; Amos 5:1-3)

Heavenly King (Psalm 24)

Almighty God (Genesis 17:1)

Father (Matthew 6:6-13)

Lord Jesus Christ (1 Thessalonians 5:28)

Begotten Son (Hebrews 1:5)

Lord God (John 20:28)

Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29)

Son of the Father (John 3:16)

Only Son (coming from the Father) (John 1:14, 18)

Seated at the Right Hand of the Father (Mark 14:60-62)

Holy One (John 6:69)

Lord (Acts 2:36)

(Son of the) Most High (Luke 1:32; Luke 8:28)

 

Psalmus Idioticus

     Again, despite its scriptural content, the Gloria is found nowhere in the Bible.  It’s an example of what we call a psalmus idioticus. No, that doesn’t mean what it looks like it means. Idioticus means “private” in Greek. The word “idiot” originally mean someone who went off and did his own thing instead of working for the common good. In any case, a psalmus idioticus is a “private psalm.”  Prayers of this sort in imitation of the biblical psalms were popular in the  first centuries of the Church.  The Te Deum is another example.

     The Gloria itself is Greek in it’s earliest form, a product of the Eastern Church.  Tradition credits St. Hilary of Poitiers with introducing it to the Latin Church.  The Greek Churches today (both Orthodox and Catholic) sing the Gloria as part of the Divine Office during the hour of Matins, instead of during the Mass.

Mozart’s Mass in C

     Many composers over the centuries have put the Gloria to music.  One of the most glorious of these settings is the one Mozart composed for his Mass in C.  I’ve posted Mozart’s Gloria below in its entirety.  Don’t despair if you don’t have time for the entire clip (it’s about 26 minutes long). I recommend listening at least to the “Laudamus Te” (“We praise you”), which starts at the 2:40 mark.  It simply soars.

     The performers, by the way, are local (are least for me): the Concorde Chorale & Phillips Exeter Academy Chamber Orchestra.

The Gloria, in Latin and English

Gloria in excelsis Deo

et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis.

Laudamus te,

benedicimus te,

adoramus te,

glorificamus te,

gratias agimus tibi propter magnam gloriam tuam,

Domine Deus, Rex caelestis,

Deus Pater omnipotens.

Domine Fili unigenite,

Iesu Christe,

Domine Deus, Agnus Dei,

Filius Patris,

qui tollis peccata mundi,

miserere nobis;

qui tollis peccata mundi,

suscipe deprecationem nostram.

Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris,

miserere nobis.

Quoniam tu solus Sanctus,

tu solus Dominus,

tu solus Altissimus, Iesu Christe,

cum Sancto Spiritu in gloria Dei Patris.

Amen

Glory to God in the highest,

and on earth peace to people of good will.

We praise you,

we bless you,

we adore you,

we glorify you.

We give you thanks for your great glory,

Lord God, heavenly King,

O God, almighty Father.

Lord Jesus Christ,

only Begotten Son,

Lord God, Lamb of God,

Son of the Father,

You take away the sins of the world

have mercy on us;

You take away the sins of the world,

receive our prayer;

You are seated at the right hand of the Father:

have mercy on us.

For you alone are the Holy One,

You alone are the Lord,

You alone are the Most High, Jesus Christ,

With the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God the Father. Amen.

Sacred Music: Allegri’s Adoremus in Aeternum

Sacred Music in the Heart of the Church

Sacred music is a topic near and dear to my hear. More importantly, it is dear to the heart of the Church. Consider what the Second Vatican Council had to say:

The musical tradition of the universal Church is a treasure of inestimable value, greater even than that of any other art. The main reason for this pre-eminence is that, as sacred song united to the words, it forms a necessary or integral part of the solemn liturgy.  (Sacrosanctam Concilium, 112)

You may not be surprised to know that my tastes in liturgical music tend toward the more traditional.  I’m not disparaging contemporary religious music, in and of itself.  Honestly, I even like some of it. For instance, I have been known to play John Michael Talbot’s “Table of Plenty.” Not only that, I also have an abiding fondness for Dana Scallon’s “We Are One Body.  Really. These and many other songs are fine as expressions of religious devotion. Are they truly appropriate, though, for the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass? Do they really capture the sacredness of the Miracle of the Holy Eucharist?

“The Most Beautiful Music I’ve Ever Heard”

      I was once discussing sacred music (specifically the work of Palestrina and Allegri) with a co-worker. This man was a very talented non-Catholic music teacher. “It’s some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard,” he said.  “I can’t believe they got rid of it in the liturgy.  I mean, I guess they had to, but It’s hard to believe.”  It’s understandable that he might think this. In fact, many Catholics do, too.  But as it happens, the Church itself says otherwise. For example, In the Second Vatican Council’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy Sacrosanctum Concilium we read:

The Church acknowledges Gregorian chant as specially suited to the Roman liturgy: therefore, other things being equal, it should be given pride of place in liturgical services.

But other kinds of sacred music, especially polyphony, are by no means excluded from liturgical celebrations, so long as they accord with the spirit of the liturgical action, as laid down in Art. 30.  (Sacrosanctam Concilium, 116)

Set Aside For God

     The word sacred means “set aside”, as in set aside for God.  Sacred music, therefore, should be very special indeed.  The clip below, for instance, offers a sterling example, Gregorio Allegri’s “Adoremus in Aeternum.” Like his more well-known setting for the “Miserere,” it employs both Gregorian Chant and Polyphony. Nothing less could adequately express the beauty and wonder of Christ present in the Eucharist.

 

To read Sacrosanctum Concilium’s full discussion of sacred music, see HERE.

Sacred Music in Latin and English:

Adoremus in Aeternum   

Adoremus in aeternum Sanctissimum Sacramentum.

Laudate Dominum Omnes Gentes

Laudate Eum Omnes Populi

Quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia eius

Et veritas Domini manet in aeternum.

Gloria Patri Et Filio et Spiritui Sancto

Sicut erat in Principio et Nunc et Semper

et in saecula saeculorum. Amen.

Adoremus in aeternum Sanctissimum Sacramentum.

 Let Us Adore for Eternity   

“Let us adore for eternity the most holy Sacrament.

Praise the Lord, all you nations:

praise Him all you peoples.

Because his mercy is confirmed over us:

and the truth of the Lord remains into eternity.

Glory be to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit:

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,

world without end. Amen.

We will adore for eternity the most holy Sacrament.

Something Strange is Happening – Holy Saturday

 Something Strange 

Something strange is happening—there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep.

These are the opening sentences in the non-scriptural reading in today’s Office of Readings. The author, it seems, is unknown.  The liturgy simply tells us that it is “an ancient homily on Holy Saturday.”  The description rings true. Holy Saturday is not quite like any other day in the liturgical calendar.  We experience a pause after the intense liturgical activity of Holy Thursday and Good Friday.  There is a sense of expectancy, and, as the author of the reading above put it, “a great silence and stillness.”

     So it seems, to us.  If we read on, we see that The King may appear, to us, to be “asleep” but that is not really the case:

He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, he has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, he who is both God and the son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the cross, the weapon that had won him the victory.

 Jesus Doesn’t Rest 

The period between Death and Resurrection is one of stillness and waiting in our world, but Jesus doesn’t rest.  And why would Christ, fresh from crucifixion and death, seek out Adam and Eve? It does seem like something strange, doesn’t it? Our homilist shows him telling out first parents:

I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by my own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image.

Christ addresses these words here to Adam and Eve, but He also addresses them to us, their descendants. God did not create our first parents in order to hold them “prisoner in hell.”  Nor did he create any of us for that purpose. Out of his love for all of us he is calling us away from Death: Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated.

“The Lord approached them bearing the cross, the weapon that had won him the victory.

The Harrowing of Hell or Christ in Limbo, by Albrecht Durer, 1510

 In Search of the Lost Sheep 

The picture our homilist paints here of Christ is a reflection of what Jesus says of himself in the Gospels.  Consider this passage from the Gospel of Matthew:

If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray?  And if he finds it, truly, I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. (Matthew 18: 12-13)

God is Seeking Us

This is one of numerous passages that show us how intent Our Lord is on gathering us to himself. We often speak of ourselves as “seeking God,” but that’s not really the way it works, we’re deceiving ourselves. The Benedictine Mark Barrett in his book Crossing: Reclaiming the Landscape of Our Lives says:

Biblical images of God – shepherd, farmer, lover – always make God the one who is active.  He takes the initiative . . . God is the seeker, and we are the object of the search.  This is the strangest lesson of all.

Yes, something strange is happening.  While our world seems silent and still, under the surface Our Lord is working out of our view to bring back all his lost sheep. We might want to take some time during the quiet of Holy Saturday to meditate on Christ’s saving action, and prepare ourselves to return to him when the Resurrected Lord comes back for us on Easter Sunday.

Feature image top of page: Christ in Limbo, by Fra Angelico, c. 1450

The Triduum & Easter 2022:

Crucifixus Etiam Pro Nobis: Lotti’s Musical Meditation on the Crucifixion

The Crucifixion, by Giambattista Tiepolo & Giandomenico Tiepolo, 1745–50

Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato:

Passus, et sepultus est. (Nicene Creed)

 

Crucifixus Etiam Pro Nobis

Crucifixus etiam pro nobis: He was also crucified for us. That brief statement in the Nicene Creed refers to one of the two most important events of all time. The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ and his Resurrection three days later form the fulcrum of human history.   

We commemorate the Crucifixion Friday of this week, Good Friday.  Our penitential and  liturgical preparation for that event began five weeks ago, on Ash Wednesday. It will build in intensity over the next few days to reach its culmination at the end of the week. Fasting, the Stations of the Cross, and the Veneration of the Cross will mark the Death of Jesus. Next, the silent, watchful waiting of Holy Saturday. Finally, we come to an explosion of joy in the Easter Vigil and the services of Easter Sunday.

Musical Treatments

Numerous composers over the centuries have looked for ways to invest the bare statement of the Nicene Creed with that intensity.  Howard Ionescu of Winchester College gives us two examples. He contrasts Johann Bach in his Mass in B Minor, and Antonio Lotti in his Crucifixus. Bach, he says, “depicts Christ’s suffering in continuous descending chromatic lines, with the voices plummeting to the depths of their vocal range and then hushed to a silence.” Antonio Lotti (whose Miserere we heard last week) goes in a different direction. Ionescu says of his Crucifixus:

Written for 8 voices, each part enters bar by bar starting with the lowest basses, piling up the musical texture with suspensions (musical crunches in the harmony) and creating a piercing intensity by the time the highest voice enters.

Bach’s setting creates a powerful impression of the living spirit departing the body as it dies.  Lotti’s composition instead feels like the Divine Soul of Jesus building up to the point where it bursts the confines of its human body.  

Lotti’s Crucifixus

Both treatments are extraordinarily beautiful and moving musical representations of the Passion and Death of Christ. Bach’s O Sacred Head Surrounded was our final musical selection of Lent last year, however, so we’ll give Lotti the honor this time around. His Crucifixus will be the last music we share on this site until we celebrate the Resurrection next Sunday.   

The NMH choir sings Lotti’s Crucifixus in the clip below.

Have Mercy – Lotti’s Miserere (Music for Lent)

              David Penitent, by Albrecht Durer, 1510

Have mercy on me, O God,
according to thy steadfast love;
according to thy abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions. (Psalm 51:1)

Have Mercy

      And what transgressions they were!  King David had used trickery and deceit to send Uriah the Hittite to his death.  He had, in fact, murdered his loyal soldier in order to hide his own adultery.  Tradition tells us that David composed Psalm 51 as an expression of sorrow and repentance for the wicked deed. We often refer to the psalm as the Miserere (“Have mercy”) because that’s its first word in the Latin Vulgate Bible.

     It seems natural to associate King David’s great psalm of repentance with the penitential Season of Lent.  As it happens, many composers have written musical settings for the Miserere. The most famous musical treatment of the psalm was composed by Gregorio Allegri in the 1630s. I have posted various performances of Allegri’s Miserere over the last few years (most recently here). Last year I also posted the lesser-known (but still powerfully beautiful and moving) setting by Pergolesi . I’m continuing that tradition this Lent by sharing yet another setting for the Miserere, this one by Antonio Lotti.

Lotti the Man


     Lotti may not be well-known today (at least to those of us who, like me, are not music history experts), but he was (it seems) an important and influential composer and teacher in his day. He lived from 1667-1740.  He spent his entire musical career (except for a brief period in Dresden from 1717-1719) at St. Mark’s Basilica in Venice as a singer, organist and, eventually, maestro di cappella.

     Reliable information about Lotti the man is somewhat spotty.  Biographical accounts over the years have contained some documented factual information, with a healthy admixture of less reliable “oral tradition.” For example, biographers have claimed that Lotti influenced the music of J.S. Bach and G.F. Handel.  All we know for sure, however, is that Bach and Handel both had copies of Lotti’s Missa Sapientiae. While it’s a reasonable guess that they admired his work, there’s no direct evidence of influence.

     There’s also an 1854 biography by Francesco Caffi, which tells us that aspiring musicians sought out Lotti as a teacher.  He lists  Domenico Alberti, Benedetto Marcello, Giovanni Battista Pescetti, Baldassare Galuppi, Giuseppe Saratelli and Jan Dismas Zelenka as students.  And maybe they were.  Zelenka, at least, also owned a copy of Lotti’s Missa Sapientiae.

The Music

    There’s one thing we know for sure about Antonio Lotti.  He composed beautiful and moving music. His Miserere, for instance, in which the combined voices  of the chorus powerfully express the sorrow and penitence of King David. In the clip below László Matos conducts Prelude Choir Budapest in a performance of the first section of Lotti’s Miserere.

 

 

Our Goal is the Resurrection: Ain’t No Grave

Our Goal is the Resurrection

Rejoice, Jerusalem, and all who love her. Be joyful, all who were in mourning;

exult and be satisfied at her consoling breast.  (Introit for the 4th Sunday of Lent)

Spes in Domino Our Goal is the Resurrection

 

Our Goal is Almost in Sight

     Why rejoice in the middle of Lent?  Isn’t Lent a solemn and penitential season? And haven’t we banned Allelu . . . um, I mean the “A Word”  until the Easter Vigil? What’s up with Laetare Sunday?

     Good question.  Yesterday’s mass opened with the introit at the top of the post, which comes from Isaiah 66:10.  The first word of the introit in Latin is laetare, “rejoice,” for which reason we have long called the fourth Sunday Laetare Sunday.  On this particular Sunday a priest may wear rose colored vestments (which can look suspiciously like pink to those who are not in the know). It does seem out of place in the middle of Lent.

     The primary reason for the (admittedly, subdued) theme of rejoicing on the fourth Sunday of Lent is as a reminder of where we’re heading.  We have just passed the midpoint of the penitential season. The Church is reminding us that our goal, the joy of the Resurrection at Easter, is almost in sight.  Don’t lose hope!

A Distant Glimpse of Heaven

     As always, we can find other levels of meaning.  We can look at Lent, for instance, as representing our time of exile in this world. Here we “dwell in the world, yet are not of the world,” as the Letter to Diognetus puts it. The joy-tinged reminder of our goal that we encounter on Laetare Sunday is like the promise of Hope that we find in the Revelation of Jesus Christ.  The flash of rose against somber purple is “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1).  It’s a distant glimpse of Heaven amidst the gloom of our fallen world.

     I chose today’s musical selection with that idea In mind. This is a little unlike my usual music posts.  Ok, it’s a lot unlike my usual music posts. A gospel song with banjo, guitars, and mandolin is a clear contrast to the usual classical pieces.  Kind of like the difference between bright rose pink and dark purple.  In any case, I like the evocative way this song expresses our longing for Resurrection and for the Presence of Jesus as we experience the darkness that surrounds us in this life. Not only that, it really rocks.

Ain’t No Grave Gonna Hold My Body Down

This performance is from the Southern Gospel Revival Series.  Jamie Wilson sings lead and plays the banjo. Courtney Patton, Drew Kennedy, Ben Hester, Marty Durlam, and Jesse Fox are the backing musicians.

[feature image at top of post from pixabay.com]

https://vimeo.com/45880435