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Wahrlich, wahrlich ich sage euch BWV 86 / BC A 73
Rogate Sunday, May 14. 1724
This cantata was first performed on May 14, 1724, in Leipzig, probably in St. Thomas Church. Like the preceding Sundays of Jubilate and Cantate, the Gospel reading for Rogate Sunday is found in John 16 and contains a further portion of Jesus’s farewell speeches. At its beginning it reads:Wahrlich, wahrlich, ich sage euch: So ihr den Vater etwas bitten werdet in meinem Namen, so werdet ers euch geben. Bisher habt ihr nichts gebeten in meinem Namen. Bittet, so werdet ihr nehmen, daß eure Freude vollkommen sei. Solches habe ich zu euch durch Sprichwörter geredet. Es kommt aber die Zeit, daß ich nicht mehr durch Sprichwörter mit euch reden werde, sondern euch frei heraus verkündigen von meinem Vater. An dem Tage werdet ihr bitten in meinem Namen. Und ich sage euch nicht, daß ich den Vater für euch bitten will; denn er selbst, der Vater, hat euch lieb, darum daß ihr mich liebet und glaubet, daß ich von Gott ausgegangen bin. (23–27)
Truly, truly, I say to you: Should you ask the father for something in my name, he will give it you. Until now you have asked for nothing in my name. Ask, and you shall receive, that your joy shall be complete. Such things I have spoken to you in proverbs. But the time is coming when I shall not speak with you in proverbs but will freely tell you of my Father. On that day, you shall ask in my name. And I will not say to you, that I will pray to the Father for you; for he himself, the Father, loves you because you love me and believe that I am come from God.
The unknown text poet of our cantata places the beginning of this passage at the top of his libretto and paraphrases it in accordance with the conceptual pair “promise, fulfillment.” The lucid and memorable sequence of New Testament passage–aria–chorale–recitative–aria–chorale is found in many texts of cantatas that originated between Easter and Pentecost in 1724 and 1725; they are the work of one and the same author. For the freely versified text of the first aria, the librettist draws upon the oppositional conceptual world of “bitter/sweet suffering” and uses the metaphor of roses and thorns as symbols of joy and beauty, on the one hand, and the entanglements of the sinful heart, on the other:
Ich will doch wohl Rosen brechen,
Wenn mich gleich jetzt Dornen stechen.
Denn ich bin der Zuversicht,
Daß mein Bitten und mein Flehen
Gott gewiß zu Herzen gehen,
Weil es mir sein Wort verspricht.
I would indeed gather roses,
Even though now the thorns prick me.
For I have confidence
That my prayer and my entreaty
Certainly go to God’s heart,
Because his word promises it to me.
With the keywords “Bitten” (prayer) and “verspricht” (promises), the last verses build a bridge from the opening biblical quotation to the chorale that follows the aria, the sixteenth strophe from Georg Grünewald’s 1530 hymn Kommt her zu mir, spricht Gottes Sohn (Come here to me, speaks the son of God).
Und was der ewig gütig Gott
In seinem Wort versprochen hat.
Geschworn bei seinem Namen,
Das hält und git er g’wiß fürwahr.
Der helf uns zu der Engel Schar
Durch Jesum Christum, amen.
And what the eternally good God
In his word has promised,
Sworn by his name,
In truth he certainly keeps and grants.
May he help us to join the angels’ host
Through Jesus Christ, amen.
It is unclear whether there was a pause at this point during which the sermon would have been delivered and after which the remaining movements would have been performed. In any case, it is remarkable that the recitative that follows immediately brings the “world” into play, as if it and its doings had just been subjected to an extended critical commentary:
Gott macht es nicht gleichwie die Welt,
Die viel verspricht und wenig hält;
Denn was er zusagt, muß geschehen,
Daß man daran kann seine Lust und Freude sehen.
God does not behave like the world,
Which makes many promises and keeps few;
For what he promises must come to pass,
So that we thereby can see his delight and joy.
“Gott hilft gewiß” (God’s help is certain), the last aria announces again, urgently, and works in the idea that “aufgeschoben” (postponed) need not mean “aufgehoben” (canceled). The skillfully concentrated cantata text closes with a chorale strophe matching this conceit, from Paul Speratus’s 1528 hymn Es ist das Heil uns kommen her (Salvation is come to us), whose eleventh stanza begins “Die Hoffnung wart’ der rechten Zeit” (Hope awaits the right time).
In every movement, Bach’s composition of this truly grateful libretto proves itself to be original. This is confirmed by the composer’s holograph manuscript. Admittedly, several questions remain open, particularly those regarding certain details about the instrumental setting. The reasons for this uncertainty are found, on the one hand, in Bach’s habits in writing out his works and, on the other, in the distribution of his musical estate as well as losses that occurred afterward. In the case of our cantata, the score went to the second oldest son of Bach, Carl Philipp Emanuel, and has been preserved, while the performing parts went to another heir and have been lost and, along with them, any certainty as to the exact instrumental setting, since Bach’s composing score is silent on the matter.
This particularly affects the opening movement on the words of Christ “Wahrlich, wahrlich ich sage euch” (Truly, truly I say to you). In accordance with the gravity of the text, it is set in fugal style and composed as a motet-like alla breve movement. Thus the defining note value is the half note, the shortest note value is the eighth note, and the tempo is relatively quick. The voice is the vox Christi, the bass, and the four instrumental parts are unspecified. But by analogy to Bach’s precisely documented procedures elsewhere, it can be assumed that the conception called for a setting of strings and that the two violins were to be joined by the oboe d’amore, which participates elsewhere in the cantata. The keys and range of the music also support these assignments. As far as the choice of the fugue form is concerned, even if in this case it is handled relatively freely, it can be assumed that here as elsewhere it was not simply in the musical sense that Bach regarded strict counterpoint as proper and—in the ideal case—perfect. Rather, because of these qualities, it also proves to be an appropriate implementation for categories such as devotion, belief, law, and truth. In this sense, the fugue comprising exactly one hundred measures on words of Christ is exactly suitable in its craftsmanship to the source text: “Wahrlich, wahrlich ich sage euch: So ihr den Vater etwas bitten werdet in meinem Namen, so wird ers euch geben.”
Bach’s plan in the ensuing aria, “Ich will doch wohl Rosen brechen” (I would indeed gather roses), is less transparent. The alto is joined by an obbligato solo violin whose part continuously alternates between glittering passagework and virtuoso arpeggiando. The rejoicing passages of the string instrument in the high-pitched key of A major can be associated without any difficulty to the rose as metaphor for joy and beauty. However, to connect the overly abundant broken chords with the breaking off of the symbolically meant flower would result in a somewhat flat association. The performer of this challenging solo is known with some certainty: it could well be Georg Gottfried Wagner, a student at St. Thomas School under Bach’s predecessor Johann Kuhnau and later a student at the University of Leipzig, as well as Bach’s assistant in performances of church music. In 1726, with Bach’s recommendation, he became cantor at Plauen and achieved distinction there as a composer, particularly of compositions for violin.
In contrast to the truly unbuttoned, virtuosic obbligato part of the alto aria, the ensuing chorale movement on the melody Kommt zu mir, spricht Gottes Sohn returns to the strict style of composition. As in several sibling works, the chorale melody is given to a solo voice, which presents it in long note values. A quietly led bass and two oboi d’amore complete the structure of a quartet, thereby approximating the familiar image of Bach’s chorale arrangements for organ. The motivic unity of the woodwind parts is certainly meant symbolically and—similar to the procedure in the opening movement—is meant to depict the textual statement “Und was der ewig gütig Gott / In seinem Wort versprochen hat” (And what the eternally good God / In his word has promised).
In the tenor aria following a brief recitative, the voice part and the instrumental part in particular are defined by the lapidary motivic structure and almost playful treatment of “Gott hilft gewiß.” In contrast to the strict style that has predominated until now, there is a certain lightness in the music’s course, although the pregnant brevity of the ever present “speaking” main motive—in which the voice does not take part—does not permit any extended development. The cantata closes with a four-part setting of the melody Es ist das Heil uns kommen her. In 1773 Bach’s second youngest son, Johann Christoph Friedrich, adopted this movement for his oratorio Die Auferweckung Lazarus (The awakening of Lazarus), with a new text written by Johann Gottfried Herder.