Sunday after Epiphany

And his parents went to Jerusalem every year at the feast of Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem after the custom of the feast. And when the days had been completed, and they went home again, the child Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, and his parents knew it not. They believed, however, that he was among companions, and went a day’s journey distant, and sought him among their kinfolk and acquaintances. And when they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem, and sought him. And it came to pass, that after three days they found him in the Temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them, and asking them questions. And all that heard him were astonished at his understanding and answers. And when they saw him, they were angry: and his mother said to him, my son, why have you done this to us? See, thy father and I have sought thee with pains.
    And he said unto them, Why is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be about my father’s business? And they did not understand the Word that he spoke with them. And he went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them: but his mother kept all these words in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom, age and grace, with God and man. (41–52)

Liebster Jesu, mein Verlangen,
Sage mir, wo find ich dich?
Soll ich dir so bald verlieren
Und nicht ferner bei mir spüren?
Ach! mein Hort, erfreue mich,
Laß dich höchst vergnügt umfangen.

Dearest Jesus, my desire,
Tell me, where shall I find you?
Should I lose you so soon
And no longer feel you beside me?
O! My refuge, make me glad,
Let yourself, with great joy, be embraced.

In answer she receives a modified version of the word of Christ from the Gospel reading: “Was ists, daß du mich gesuchet? Weißt du nicht, daß ich sein muß in dem, was meines Vaters ist?” (Why is it that you sought me? Do you not know that I must be about my father’s business?). In the ensuing aria, the poet has Jesus complement “seeking” with “finding” and connects his visit to the Temple, “seines Vaters Stätte” (his father’s home), with the favorite metaphor of the human heart as ancestral home:

Hier in meines Vaters Stätte
Findt mich ein betrübter Geist.
Da kannst du mich sicher finden
Und dein Herz mit mir verbinden,
Weil dies meine Wohnung heißt.

Here in my father’s home
A distressed spirit finds me.
There you can certainly find me
And bind your heart with me,
Because this is my abode.

At this point the ground is prepared for a dialogue, which takes place in the libretto’s only recitative. Nothing unexpected happens here; instead, the librettist continues the metaphor of the human heart as the dwelling of Jesus. The Soul makes a decision:

Ach! heiliger und großer Gott, 
So will ich mir
Denn hier bei dir
Beständig Trost und Hilfe suchen.

O! Holy and great God,
Thus will I, 
Here with you,
Constantly seek comfort and help.

That decision is supported by Jesus with these words:

Wirst du den Erdentand verfluchen
Und nur in diese Wohnung gehn,
So kannst du hier und dort bestehn.

If you curse earthly trifles
And only go into this dwelling,
Then you can endure both here and there.

In response, the Soul quotes Psalm 84:1–2 nearly literally, which expresses longing for holiness:

Wie lieblich ist doch deine Wohnung, 
Herr, starker Zebaoth!
Meine Geist verlangt 
Nach dem, was nur in deinem Hofe prangt 
Mein Leib und Seele freuet sich
In dem lebendigen Gott.

How lovely is indeed your dwelling,
Lord of the mighty Sabaoth!
My spirit longs
For what shines only in your court,
My body and soul rejoice 
In the living God.

Upon the soul's emphatic exclamation “Ach! Jesu, meine Brust liebt dich nur ewiglich” (Ah! Jesus, my breast loves you only eternally), Jesus responds: 

So kannst du glücklich sein,
Wenn Herz und Geist
Aus Liebe gegen mich entzündet heißt.

Then you can be happy
When heart and spirit 
Are kindled by love of me.

The Soul closes with the promise:

Ach! Dieses Wort, das itzo schon
Mein Herz aus Babels Grenzen reißt,
Faß ich mir andachtsvoll in meiner Seele ein.

O! This word, that now already
Tears my heart from Babel’s confines,
I devoutly place in my soul.

The libretto prepared by Georg Christian Lehms closes with a duet whose frame is formed by the verse “Nun verschwinden alle Plagen, nun verschwindet Ach und Schmerz” (Now vanish, all torments, now disappear, all grief and sorrow). Bach’s cantata is extended with a chorale text, strophe 12 from Paul Gerhardt’s hymn Weg, mein Herz, mit den Gedanken (Away, my heart, with the thoughts):

Mein Gott, öffnet mir die Pforten
Solcher Gnad und Gütigkeit,
Laß mich allzeit allerorten
Schmecken deine Süßigkeit.
Liebe mich und treib mich an,
Daß ich dich, so gut ich kann,
Wiederum umfang und liebe
Und ja nun nicht mehr betrübe.

My God, open for me the gates
Of such grace and benevolence,
Let me at all times, at all places
Taste your sweetness.
Love me and drive me on
That I may, as best I can,
In return embrace and love you
And indeed grieve you no more.

Bach’s composition of this expanded text, inscribed “Concerto in Dialogo” in the autograph score, exhibits several noteworthy and unusual features. The soprano aria at the beginning, “Liebster Jesu, mein Verlangen,” with the performance marking Adagio, is similar in notation and expressive content to a slow concerto movement. Also unusual is the similarity to the opening aria of a wedding cantata for soprano and instruments. Friedrich Smend, one of the most authoritative Bach experts of the twentieth century, earlier summarized his observations as follows:

One need only compare the notation [of our cantata] with the beginning of the cantata Weichet nur, betrübte Schatten [BWV 202] to recognize the close relationship. There, as here, the oboe sounds a wide-ranging, elegiac melody, in which the soprano later joins in, its richly articulated line entwined with those of the winds; here as well both soloists and their voices are carried by the strings and their broken chords and their bitter-sweet harmonies. In both cases, a broad tempo is prescribed; in both cases, Bach marks the parts for the strings piano. 

Since Smend—in accordance with the Bach research of his era—regarded Weichet nur to be a composition from Bach’s Köthen years, he thought it necessary to postulate a secular early version for our cantata. This is contradicted, however, by the fact that Bach’s manuscript is a composing score, indicating an original composition. 

Nevertheless, many questions remain unresolved. Among them is setting the role of Jesus with the bass, the traditional vox Christi, although the Gospel reading concerns the twelve-year-old Jesus in the Temple. It is also remarkable that the word of Christ taken from the Gospel text in the second movement of the cantata is set as a simple recitative, not, as is usual, as an arioso. It furthermore deserves our attention that Jesus’s aria “Hier in meines Vaters Stätte” turns out to be a veritable minuet, and, furthermore, the voice is accompanied by an obbligato solo violin, which could just as well be a component of a concerto.

On the other hand, a familiar aspect is the procedure by which the dialogue recitative is accompanied by strings; simple chord progressions prove appropriate for the dialogue by the Soul and Jesus in the outer sections of equal length, while the middle section, set apart textually with its nearly literal quotation of Psalm 84, is lent emphasis and significance by a change in setting. The associated duet contrasts sharply with this, as in every respect it exhibits the dance-like character of a gavotte. Even if one accepts this as the embodiment of the Soul, the catchy melody and rhythm in the mouth of Jesus sound quite exceptional. It was precisely this circumstance that caused the previously mentioned Bach researcher Friedrich Smend to be on the lookout for a secular archetype—however, in vain. Only a partial balance is provided by the closing four-part chorale using the sixteenth-century melody from Wie nach einer Wasserquelle (As from a spring of water) or Freu dich sehr, o meine Seele (Rejoice greatly, O my soul).