This tag was created by James A. Brokaw II. The last update was by Angela Watters.
Die Elenden sollen essen BWV 75 / BC A 94
First Sunday after Trinity, May 30, 1723
In late May 1723, the newly appointed cantor of St. Thomas School, Johann Sebastian Bach, introduced himself to the people of Leipzig with the cantata Die Elenden sollen essen BWV 75 (The afflicted shall eat). Eight days earlier, he had moved with his family to the trade-fair city. For unknown reasons, this event found its way into the press, and in Hamburg in fact, in a correspondent’s report from Leipzig: “This past Saturday at noon, four wagons loaded with household goods arrived here from Köthen; they belonged to the former Princely Capellmeister there, now called to Leipzig as Cantor Figuralis. He himself arrived with his family on 2 carriages at 2 o’clock and moved into the newly renovated apartment in the St. Thomas School.”1 Several chroniclers have documented a cantata performance on May 30, 1723. One of them wrote: “The 30th instant [May], being the First Sunday after Trinity, the new Cantor and Director of the Collegium Musicum, Mr. Johann Sebastian Bach, who has come hither from the Prince’s Court at Cöthen, produced his first music here, with great success.”2 A press report, also from Hamburg, is not aware of “great success.” It says, however, that Bach “made his debut by performing his music before and after the sermon.” Finally, a third report indicates that the new cantor had recently “assumed his office in the city churches with the first music for St. Nicholas Church.”3
We have no information as to how the new cantor of St. Thomas prepared for this important day. One could imagine that he composed his inaugural cantata before moving to Leipzig. That would, however, presume that the date of the first performance had been set within the medium term and that a text for the composition was available. Nothing more precise can be established, however; even the name of the text author remains unknown. In its first part at least, the libretto hews closely to the Gospel reading of the Sunday, the parable of the rich man and Lazarus the pauper, from Luke 16:19–25:
There was, however, a rich man who clothed himself with purple and expensive linen and lived all his days gloriously and in joy. There was, however, a pauper of the name Lazarus who lay before his door full of sores and wanted to satisfy himself with the crumbs that fell from the rich man’s table; but the dogs came and licked his sores. But it came to pass that the pauper died and was carried by the angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. As he now was in Hell and in torment, he lifted his eyes up and saw Abraham from afar and Lazarus in his bosom. And he called and spoke: Father Abraham, have mercy upon me and send Lazarus, that he dip his fingertips in water and cool my tongue, for I suffer pain in these flames. Abraham however spoke: Consider, son, that you have received your good fortune in your life, and Lazarus by contrast received evil; now, however, he is comforted and you are tormented.
At the beginning of his cantata libretto, the unknown poet places a verse from Psalm 22, the Passion psalm of Christ, that approximates the parable from the Gospel reading: “Die Elenden sollen essen, daß sie satt werden; und die nach dem Herrn fragen, werden ihn preisen; euer Herz soll ewiglich leben” (26; The afflicted shall eat, so that they become satisfied; and those that ask after the Lord, shall praise Him; your heart shall live eternally). He then paraphrases the Sunday Gospel reading with free poetry: three recitatives and two arias. The first movement pair—recitative and aria—allude to the beginning of the reading by referring to the purple robe of the rich man:
Was hilft des Purpurs Majestät,
Da sie vergeht?
Was hilft der größte Überfluß,
Weil alles, so wir sehen,
Verschwinden muß?
What help is the majesty of purple,
Since it fades?
What help is the greatest surplus,
Since all that we see
Must disappear?
And in the aria:
Mein Jesu soll mein alles sein.
Mein Purpur ist sein teures Blut,
Er selbst mein allerhöchstes Gut,
Und seines Geistes Liebesglut
Mein allersüß’ster Freudenwein.
My Jesus shall be my all.
My purple is his precious blood,
He himself my all-highest good,
And his spirit’s loving glow
My all-sweetest wine of joy.
The next movement pair treats the opposing fates of the rich man and the pauper, the way to hell or to the bosom of Abraham. “Gott stürzet und erhöhet in Zeit und Ewigkeit” (God casts down and lifts up in time and eternity), reads the recitative. The aria states:
Ich nehme mein Leiden mit Freuden auf mich.
Wer Lazarus’ Plagen
Geduldig ertragen,
Den nehmen die Engel zu sich.
I take my suffering upon myself with joy.
Whoever has borne Lazarus’s torment
Patiently,
The angels shall take him to themselves.
A third recitative leads to the hymn that closes the first half of the cantata before the sermon, the fifth strophe from Samuel Rodigast’s 1564 chorale Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan (What God does, that is done well). Except for the psalm verse at the beginning, the succession of movements in the second half is the same as the first: three recitatives, two arias, and a chorale strophe. Wealth and poverty—the themes of the parable from the Gospel reading—are now related to the individual’s world of belief. If the first recitative of the second half laments “des Geistes Armut” (poverty of the spirit) and failing strength, the ensuing aria answers with “Jesus macht mich geistlich reich” ( Jesus makes me spiritually rich), whereby a phrase from the Sermon on the Mount, “Selig sind, die da geistlich arm sind” (Blessed are the poor in spirit), might stand in the background. If the next recitative demands self-renunciation and the avoidance of all that is earthly “Daß er in Gottes Liebe / Sich gläubig übe” (That he, in God’s love, / May exercise himself in faith), here again the ensuing aria gives the confident answer with its text beginning “Mein Herze glaubt und liebt” (My heart believes and loves). With “O Armut, der kein Reichtum gleicht” (O poverty that no wealth equals), the last recitative summarizes the core of the parable, leading to the concluding chorale strophe, once again drawn from Rodigast’s hymn Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan.
Bach’s composition of this wide-ranging text assumes dimensions that are appropriate to a new beginning in a prominent and vibrant city. Hence the idea of the sumptuous French overture, here in two parts, stands behind the extensive opening chorus. In this case, as befits the psalm passage, it stands in the elegiac key of E minor, the key of sorrow and solace. The faster fugal concluding section on the text “Euer Herz soll ewiglich leben” (Your heart shall live eternally) is rather short compared to the melancholic beginning. The bass recitative is followed by a dancelike, animated aria with tenor solo “Mein Jesus soll mein alles sein” (My Jesus shall be my all). The restful serenity of the text statement is matched by the measured rhythmic motion, but without bringing a contemporary dance type to mind. One is prompted to wonder whether this unusually extensive aria goes back to an earlier work from Bach’s time at Köthen.
The second aria, following a brief tenor recitative, also has no clear connection to any particular dance type. Here, in the buoyant collaboration of soprano and obbligato oboe d’amore on the text that begins “Ich nehme mein Leiden mit Freuden auf mich,” the subtle handling of “Leiden” (suffering) is opposed by an all but unbridled unfolding of “Freude” that gradually gains the upper hand. After a third equally brief recitative, a chorale movement concludes the first half of the cantata. Instead of being restricted to a simple four-part harmonization, it takes on the dimensions of an elaborate chorale arrangement with instrumental prelude, postlude, and interludes.
The same chorale melody, Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan appears at the beginning of the cantata’s second half as part of an instrumental movement: above a fugal quartet of stringed instruments, the melody is performed line by line by the trumpets. As in the first half of the cantata, the first recitative is accompanied by string instruments; in unison these also form the obbligato part in the alto aria that follows, “Jesus macht mich geistlich reich.” This movement is also dancelike, although without any recognizable connection to the text. It is only in the fourth and last aria of the cantata that Bach—perhaps out of necessity and owing to the problematic nature of the text—abandons this procedure and combines solo bass, obbligato trumpet, and strings in concerted virtuosity. The beginning of the text “Mein Herze glaubt und liebt” is thus interpreted in the sense of confidence in victory. The chorale arrangement at the end of the first part is repeated to conclude the entire cantata. Only the text differentiates this from its predecessor, now the last strophe of Samuel Rodigast’s chorale Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan.
Thus ends the cantata whose unusual demands are appropriate to its context: the composer’s recent appointment to the cantorate at St. Thomas School. At the same time, the work outstripped the possibilities and boundaries of concerted church music, particularly for the first Sunday after Trinity. Hence Bach quickly gave up the outsized dimensions of the fourteen- movement model and returned to more normal proportions—at least with respect to the length of his works.