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Tritt auf die Glaubensbahn BWV 152 / BC A 18
Sunday after Christmas, December 30, 1714
This cantata, Tritt auf die Glaubensbahn BWV 152 (Walk upon the path of faith), was written in late 1714 in Weimar for the Sunday after Christmas, an occasion that does not appear in the church calendar every year.1 It belongs to the regular four-week cycle of new compositions Bach was obligated to write after his appointment as concertmaster to the Weimar court. Its text was the first to have become available from a cantata text cycle by Weimar chief consistory secretary Salomon Franck, who is thought to have published it half a year later under the title Evangelisches Andachts-Opffer (Protestant devotional offering). Franck’s text contains neither biblical passages nor chorale strophes; instead, it restricts itself to recitatives and arias and hence follows closely the model created by Erdmann Neumeister in 1702, Geistliche Kantaten statt einer Kirchen-Music (Spiritual cantatas instead of a church music). Its content takes up the Gospel reading for the Sunday in Luke 2, in particular, its first part, the depiction of the child Jesus in the Temple: “And his father and his mother marveled at the things that were spoken of him. And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: See, this one is set for a fall and resurrection for many in Israel and for a sign, that will be spoken against (and a sword will pierce your soul), that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed” (33–35). There is an allusion in this passage to a prophecy in Isaiah 8: “Do not be in dread; rather sanctify the Lord of hosts. Let him be your fear and dread, that he will be a sanctuary, but for a stone of stumbling and for a rock of offense to both the houses of Israel, for a gin and a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, that many shall stumble thereon, fall, be broken, be snared and be taken” (12–15). A verse from Psalm 118 stands in the background here: “The stone, discarded by the builders, becomes a cornerstone” (22). And following on this, once again from Isaiah 28: “Therefore speaks the Lord, Lord: Behold, I lay in Zion a foundation stone, a proven stone, a precious cornerstone, that is well grounded: he that believes shall not flee” (16).Salomon Franck’s poetry paraphrases the biblical passages cited above, occasionally so closely as to approach direct quotation. Thus the first aria urges:
Tritt auf die Glaubensbahn.
Gott hat den Stein geleget,
Der Zion hält und träget,
Mensch, stoße dich nicht dran!
Tritt auf die Glaubensbahn!
Walk upon the path of faith.
God has laid the stone
That holds and carries Zion.
O man, do not stumble upon it!
Walk upon the path of faith!
The ensuing recitative connects the verse quoted from Luke and that from Isaiah 28:
Der Heiland ist gesetzt
In Israel zum Fall und Auferstehen!
Der edle Stein ist sonder Schuld,
Wenn sich die böse Welt
So hart an ihm verletzt,
Ja über ihn zur Höllen fällt,
Weil sie boshaft an ihn rennet
Und Gottes Huld
Und Gnade nicht erkennet!
Doch selig ist
Ein auserwählter Christ,
Der seinen Glaubensbau auf diesen Eckstein gründet,
Weil er dadurch Heil und Erlösung findet.
The savior is set
In Israel for the fall and resurrection!
The noble stone is without guilt,
Though the evil world
Injures itself so badly on it,
Indeed, tumbles over it to hell,
Because it maliciously runs to it
And God’s favor
And grace does not acknowledge!
Yet blessed is
A chosen Christian
Who founds the structure of his faith on this cornerstone,
Because he finds salvation and redemption there.
The second aria concludes the consideration of the “köstlichen Eckstein” (precious cornerstone) that serves as the “Glaubensgrund” (foundation of faith):
Stein, der über alle Schätze,
Hilf, daß ich zu aller Zeit
Durch den Glauben auf dich setze
Meinen Grund der Seligkeit
Und mich nicht an dir verletze,
Stein, der über aller Schätze!
Stone, above all treasures,
Help, that I at all times,
Through faith, I may place upon you
My foundation of salvation
And not injure myself upon you,
Stone, above all treasures!
The last recitative connects the wonder of Christ’s birth with 1 Corinthians, which urges a turning away from earthly “wisdom of the wise,” from reason, unsuitable for guiding the spiritually blind, for, according to Paul, “Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?” Here, then, is Franck’s verse:
Es ärgre sich die kluge Welt,
Daß Gottes Sohn
Verläßt den hohen Ehrenthron,
Daß er in Fleisch und Blut sich kleidet
Und in der Menschheit leidet.
Die größte Weisheit dieser Erden
Muß vor des höchsten Rat
Zur größten Torheit werden.
Was Gott beschlossen hat,
Kann die Vernunft doch nicht ergründen;
Die blinde Leiterin verführt die geistlich Blinden.
It irritates the clever world
That the son of God
Forsakes the high throne of honor,
That he clothes himself in flesh and blood
And suffers as a human being.
The greatest wisdom of this earth
Must, before the counsel of the Most High,
Become the greatest folly.
What God has decided,
Reason can indeed never fathom;
The blind leader seduces the spiritually blind.
The cantata text ends somewhat abruptly with a dialogue duet between Soul and Jesus in the style of the Song of Songs:
Wie soll ich dich, Liebster der Seelen, umfassen?
Du mußt dich verleugnen und alles verlassen!
Wie soll ich erkennen das ewige Licht?
Erkenne mich gläubig und ärgre dich nicht!
Komm, lehre mich Heiland, die Erde verschmähen!
Komm, Seele, durch Leide zur Freude zu gehen!
Ach, ziehe mich, Liebster, so folg ich dir nach!
Dir schenk ich die Krone nach Trübsal und Schmach.
How shall I embrace you, dearest of souls?
You must deny yourself and forsake everything!
How shall I recognize the eternal light?
Acknowledge me in faith and do not be upset!
Come, teach me, savior, to scorn the earth!
Come, Soul, through suffering to attain joy!
O, draw me, dearest, that I may follow you!
I shall grant you the crown after tribulation and shame.
Bach is clearly at pains to provide the “precious stone,” apostrophized in biblical passage and cantata text, with a noble setting. Thus he pairs the two voices with an exquisite instrumentation, one that includes, alongside oboe and basso continuo, the serene timbral world of recorder, viola d’amore, and viola da gamba. This chamber music ensemble comes together first in a sinfonia, which, after a few chiseled introductory measures, changes to a densely constructed fugue—the musical symbol of complete fulfillment. Its elegant theme, largely implemented in permutation procedure, proves to be closely related to the theme of the A major organ fugue BWV 536, whereby the question of precedence of one composition or the other must remain open for the moment. The first aria associates the bass, the traditional vox Christi, with the oboe, the most powerful of the instruments taking part. The image of walking upon the path of faith obviously stood as godfather to the energetically striding scalar motives of both partners. Both recitatives are also given to the bass, but here any interpretation involving the vox Christi must be excluded on textual grounds. The first of the two movements uses the contrast between normal recitative and arioso to depict the opposition between the “böse Welt” (evil world) and the desire for salvation and redemption. The second aria presents chamber music filigree, in which the luminous power of the soprano competes with the shimmering figuration of the obbligato instruments, the flute and viola d’amore. The closing duet is dance-like; the
4 meter, the Andante tempo marking, and the canon technique implemented in sections—also reflecting the text—suggest, notwithstanding the rhythmic profile, a measured manner of performance.
Footnotes
- Franck’s text also appears in the annual text cycle GOtt-geheiligte Sabbaths-Zehnden, published in Nuremberg in 1728 by Christoph Birkmann, who studied at the University of Leipzig from December 1, 1724, to early September 1727 and during that time frequently heard church music performed by Johann Sebastian Bach. Birkmann’s cycle contains thirty-one cantatas by Bach known to have been performed at Leipzig during his period of study there. Since Franck’s text for BWV 152 is also included in the cycle, it is now believed to have been reperformed in Leipzig on December 29, 1726, as well as in Weimar (Blanken 2015b, esp. 70).—Trans.↵