The aim of this sermon series – ‘Lent with the Messiah’ is to offer a fresh look at some of the famous arias and recitatives of Handel’s great work. In each case, the preacher is being asked to examine not only the text which Handel sets, but also the music to which he sets it.
We will all be aware that when words are set to music, the result is almost always greater than the sum of the parts. This is especially true, I suspect, with Handel’s Messiah. Many of the words Handel sets are familiar to us, but they are familiar precisely because of Handel’s musical setting. I vividly remember being in a systematic theology lecture at Durham in which the lecturer was speaking about the second coming of Christ and in which he quoted from the prophet Malachi: ‘But who may abide the day of his coming / For he is like a refiner’s fire’. He went on to add, ‘I can feel an attack of Handel coming on: we cannot but hear these words in Handel’s setting.’ So we could contend, then, that the music of Messiah is such that it actually informs (or maybe even colours) our understanding of the text – and thereby, our understanding of the Christian faith.
Messiah has remained the most popular of Handel’s oratorios. Although it's now 262 years since the first performance (Dublin, 1742), and fashions in the style of performance have changed with the years, audiences and performers are still drawn into this work by a curious magnetic power.
This sermon series is necessarily selective. It doesn't cover any of the choruses – just arias and recitatives, and only a handful of these. In making the selection, we have aimed for a move through the Christian Year: from Advent (the promise of the Messiah), through Christmas and Epiphany (the Messiah as the light to the nations) to Passiontide (Jesus the Saviour of the world). We’ve decided not to include any of the music which celebrates the resurrection and kingship of Jesus – perhaps this is not quite the thing for Lent – and maybe this is a subject for another series at some point in the future!
So why have we not begun at the beginning. Why have we begun with How beautiful are the feet? For this aria comes from Part II of the work - from the section in which the words speak of the spread of the Christian gospel. Why, then, have we started at the end, so to speak?
Because I believe we must work from the starting point of what Messiah is about – what it’s for. It is about presenting the Christian Gospel in such a way that the listener (and, indeed, the performer) is caught up in it – and challenged (even if in an oblique way) to deepen his/her personal faith in Christ. Messiah is an oratorio – and the purpose of a sacred oratorio – is to tell a religious story with the intention of getting a response.
Oratorio originated in Italy at the end of the 16th century - as a supplement in the Latin liturgy of the church, but in the mother tongue. The purpose was to educate people and convert them. The form flowered in the 17th century with the work of composers such as Carissimi. In these oratorios (which aren't necessarily long or complex) we see composers making the Bible come to life for a congregation who, in the normal course of things, only ever encountered a rather complex Latin liturgy.
At the same time, in Germany, there was a flowering of music within the Lutheran tradition. Luther himself had a very high view of music and, unlike some of the other Protestant reformers, he championed its use in worship. He wrote 'I place music next to preaching and give it highest praise.' For Luther, both music and preaching were ways in which the truth of God could be 'made known'. In preaching, the word of God is proclaimed through human speech; in music it is proclaimed through the sounds of instruments and voices.
Luther's opinions became enshrined in the tradition of Lutheran church music - a tradition in which elaborate musical performance (typically the cantata, week by week) became an integral part of the liturgy of the word: just as important as the sermon. By the time we reach the 18th century, this had become highly developed as a means of presenting the Gospel and encouraging the congregation to engage with it personally.
Handel was a German who had worked in Hamburg, studied in Rome and settled in London, so it is hardly surprising that in him, we see a number of streams flow together: the Italian oratorio tradition, the Lutheran passion / cantata, and also the tradition of the English cathedral anthem. Messiah is a fascinating mix. It's called an oratorio, the theological assumptions behind much of the music are Lutheran ones, yet much of the style of writing (particularly in the choruses) is in English anthem style.
So why is Messiah so popular? I suggest it's because in some inexplicable way, it brings us face to face with who God really is in Jesus and encourages us to place our faith in him. It doesn't do this, it must be said, in the rather more dramatic, very direct and perhaps less tasteful manner of Stainer’s Crucifixion, but in an almost understated and very Biblical way. For Messiah does not overlay Scripture with pietistic poetry and hymns, in the way that even Bach’s cantatas and passions do, but simply presents the Gospel of Our Lord as revealed in the Bible and allows the listener to respond in his/her own way. The libretto of Messiah, which was assembled by Charles Jennens, is drawn entirely from the Bible (the Authorised Version and the Psalter of the Book of Common Prayer). Occasionally, the odd word is changed so that verses make sense within their new context, but - without exception - it is the words of Holy Scripture that Handel sets and which confront us as we listen.
Of course, the arias offer a far more personal route through the Scriptures than do the choruses. In each of them we are encouraged to respond to an individual who tells us more of the story - more about the Messiah. That individual is the solo singer of the aria – and so the emotional appeal of the text is heightened.
And so to this evening's aria.
I've already pointed out that ‘How beautiful are the feet’ comes from Part II of Messiah - and from that section of the work which deals with the spread of the Gospel. It is flanked by 2 significant choruses, both of which treat the theme of the spreading of the word: The Lord gave the word: great was the company of the preachers and Their sound is gone out into all lands. Between these two energetic choruses, the aria stands as an oasis of calm.
It's as though, despite all the furious efforts of the great company of preachers to proclaim the gospel, and the almost mind-blowing universal scope of their message, the gospel itself (the glad tidings of good things) is simply there. It's a given - something timeless which stands for ever.
This is reflected in the musical style of the aria. In sharp contrast to the activity and bustle of the surrounding choruses, the aria is cast as a classic set-piece, in the form of an Italianate operatic aria. The action stands still for a moment while we are asked to think about the givenness of the message of the evangelists.
The words Handel sets are taken from Romans 10:15, which is in turn a partial quotation from Isaiah 52:7. Jennens fuses the Isaiah and Romans words to create a composite sentence which encompasses both verses:
How beautiful are the feet of them
that preach the gospel of peace,
and bring glad tidings of good things.
It has been suggested that this aria should be the anthem of the Institute of Chiropodists. But of course the words refer not to the actual condition of evangelists' feet - which in the early days would have been far from beautiful - but to the sight of those who proclaim God's good news.
Handel composed two versions of the aria for performances on different occasions. One is in G minor for soprano solo and the other (the one which Caroline has sung for us this evening) is in C minor for alto solo. The alto version is 10 bars longer and works better as a stand-alone number. (The shorter soprano version is designed to follow directly on to the next chorus.) But in both versions, the tonal scheme is very static - in other words, the music doesn't move much away from the original key. This again serves to underline the given, unchanging nature of the gospel which the evangelists preach.
The aria is in the style of a siciliano, a popular 17th and 18th century form with a characteristic lilting rhythm in compound (12/8) time. In many ways this is a classic siciliano: it's in a minor key, quite slow, with a flowing melody that isn't over-ornamented, and has a number of typical hallmarks in the harmony - not least the Neapolitan Sixth (for those of you who like the technical stuff!) There is just one main musical idea which, in the soprano version, is fairly undeveloped, and is only briefly extended in the alto version.
In much solo writing of this time, this type of aria was used for pastoral subjects. We could, then, say that Handel sets these words against a pastoral backdrop (if only an implied one) - maybe he was inspired by a word that's there in the Isaiah text (but not in the version in Romans): 'How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet…..' For me, certainly, this aria conjures up a picture of an evangelist appearing over the brow of a hill amidst beautiful countryside - total theological nonsense, of course - but we all need to have our pictures with which we can think about the things of God - and music is one of the means of creating those pictures.
But if there is a covert pastoral reference in the musical style of this aria, we need to think more seriously about what this might be saying to us. There are of course overt pastoral moments in Messiah. One is the so-called 'Pifa' or 'Pastoral Symphony' - a short instrumental movement which precedes the telling of the 'shepherds abiding in the fields'. The other is another aria that will feature later in this series: 'He shall feed his flock'. Without wishing to steal Ally's thunder for 21 March, it's worth noting that here, the words set refer to the Messiah as the one who will 'feed his flock and gather the lambs in his arms' - a picture of the Shepherd-Lord key to Judaism and fulfilled for Christians in the person of Jesus, the Good Shepherd. For me, as I listen to this evening's aria aware that there might be a pastoral backdrop, I cannot but hear it without also re-connecting with 'He shall feed his flock'. In other words the 'Gospel of peace', the 'glad tidings of good things' is the good news of the Good Shepherd.
Messiah is an oratorio of contrasts, and as such it does justice to the Biblical picture of God - of a God of justice and mercy, a God of goodness and severity. Whilst next week, we shall be thinking about the refiner's fire and the human impossibility of standing before the holiness of God's presence; here that terrifying picture is balanced by the human face of God: as seen in the comforting words of the evangelists who bear witness to the Good Shepherd, who gathers us in his arms.
Towards the end of the aria, the soloist and the first violin, have a delightful sequence in which there are flowing semiquavers to illustrate the words glad tidings. It's dangerous to transpose across meaning from one composer to another but it is a much-quoted fact that, in Bach's work, this sort of writing is often used to reflect the overflowing of joy in the heart of the believer. Whether Handel thought of it in this way, we do not know, but it fits. If the Christian Gospel is good news, then it is good news for you and for me, and it brings forth in our own hearts a response of joy.
Messiah is about good news. And it's important that we hold that in mind as the series unfolds. Tonight's aria presents a cameo of that good news - an opportunity to reflect on the givenness, the stability of the Christian gospel in an uncertain world.