Sermon: The Road to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51-62)
Lord Have Mercy
Introit: Kyrie from Mass for Four Voices by William Byrd (1543-1623) The prayer, “Lord have mercy” is a fitting first step down the Lenten road which leads to Jerusalem, and ultimately to an empty tomb on Easter Sunday. “Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am weak” from Psalm 6:3 or some similar supplication has served as the opening of the Mass (or celebration of the Holy Eucharist) since the 5th century, retaining its Greek form (Kyrie eleison). And so it shall once again, on Fifth Avenue and 29th Street in 2010.
To begin both our Lenten journey and this Sunday’s celebration of Holy Communion, I have chosen one of the most ethereal and expressive settings of the Kyrie, from the Mass for Four Voices by English composer William Byrd. Byrd was a devout Catholic composing music to the Roman liturgy in the midst of a militantly Protestant country, and he lived under constant threat of persecution and suffered outright harassment for his faith. His three Masses are not only towering masterpieces in the choral repertoire, but deeply personal expressions of his own faith. Each of the three sections of this movement (Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, and Kyrie eleison) are based on a different motive or theme, and with each reiteration the prayer for mercy takes on greater urgency.
Beginning Lent with Bach
Prelude and Fugue in C Minor by J. S. Bach (1685-1750) If it sounds like this Prelude and Fugue don’t go together, it may be because they were not originally intended to. The Fugue (which I will include in Sunday’s prelude music) was written while Bach was in Weimar, 1708-1717, and it was conceived as a stand-alone work. It is a five-voice fugue, although only in the exposition and in the concluding few measures do all five voices emerge at once. In fact, much of this somber work is played on manuals alone, with the pedals punctuating the texture only three times with statements of the principal theme – twice in the dominant key of G minor, and once in the tonic of C minor.
The Prelude (which will be Sunday’s postlude, actually) was composed while Bach was in Leipzig, sometime after 1723, and it is one of his most emotionally intense works. Two principal subjects emerge: a heavy, expansive chordal motive which opens the work and appears a total of three times, followed by a scalar, triplet motive which stands in relief. The former plants itself like giant pillars holding up a great work of architecture; the latter propels the work forward with drama and immediacy. I shall always remember hearing this played as the postlude to Princess Diana’s funeral; how perfectly it captured the solemn grandeur of that profoundly sad occasion.
Another Mass Movement
Offertory: Gloria from the Collegium Regale by Herbert Howells (1892-1983) On this communion Sunday it is appropriate to sing another movement from the Mass, albeit this one in English. Howells’ Gloria is from The Office of Holy Communion written in 1956 for the Collegium Regale (King’s College, Cambridge). Howells wrote numerous settings of canticles and masses for various churches, including Westminster Abbey, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Gloucester Cathedral and the like, and the works were tailored to the acoustics of the location for which they were composed. It should be noted that Howells’ music thrives in an acoustically reverberant environment, which alas Marble does not have. Notice the choral texture alternating frequently between unison singing and the unique harmonies for which Howells is well known. This audio sample comes from the middle section of the work, and is yet another prayer for mercy from Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God.
Follow-ship and Prayer
Hymn: I Will Follow by John and Anne Barbour As we lead into our celebration of Communion on Sunday we will sing together this beautiful contemporary Christian song which centers on the theme of hearing Jesus’ still small voice, bidding us to come and follow Him. In the scripture that will be read (Luke 9:51-62) we hear the excuses that people give Jesus for why they can’t follow Him right now. One says, “First let me bury my father” and another, “First let me say goodbye to my friends.” Those have always seemed like pretty reasonable requests to me, but Jesus must have sensed they were mere excuses which camouflaged a deeper, more pervasive reluctance to let go and completely surrender to Him.
I’ve been turning over in my mind Dr. Brown’s sermon from a week ago – the one ostensibly about Ricky Nelson! Michael challenged us to move from being captive to others’ expectations, to embracing our authentic self and true calling, to seeking God’s will and direction for our lives. He quoted Shakespeare: “To thine own self be true” but then invited us to take the next step, to ask God what He truly wants for us. I’ve rearranged Shakespeare’s words into my personal Lenten prayer: “My own self be truly Thine.” I’ve started repeating it over and over with a new desire to place my true, authentic self completely in God’s hands. I’ve got a long way to go.
On Monday a dear friend told me she feels like she’s living on the fringes of her faith. I was struck by her words. This is someone in her 80’s whom I consider to be a spiritual powerhouse, and yet her confession rang true in my heart as well. We agreed that we were both looking for a personal revival and sense of rebirth this Lenten season. Surely it all starts with prayer. The apostle Paul says, “The Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought.” (Romans 8:26) We may not know how to pray, but the frequency and regularity of prayer does lie within our ability. So before I come up with more good excuses – “First just let me go and….” – I intend, with God’s help, to make prayer the number one priority in my life this Lent.
Suffer me to come, risen, wounded One,
I’ve found shelter in Your comforting arms.
Suffer me to hear Your voice in my ear,
Beckon me with words that draw me near,
Bid me to come and I will follow.