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• 1 2023-09-26T09:34:19+00:00 Warum betrübst du dich, mein Herz BWV 138 / BC A 132 9 Fifteenth Sunday After Trinity. First performed 09/05/1723 in Leipzig (Cycle I). plain 2024-04-24T17:45:00+00:00 1723-09-05 BWV 138 Leipzig 51.340199, 12.360103 05Trinity15 Fifteenth Sunday After Trinity BC A 132 Johann Sebastian Bach Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Warum betrübst du dich, mein Herz, BWV 138 / BC A 132" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 410 James A. Brokaw II Leipzig I

  Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity, September 5, 1723

  At first glance, it might seem to be a mistake in chronology that Bach composed the cantata Warum betrübst du dich, mein Herz BWV 138 (Why are you aggrieved, my heart) in September 1723, only a quarter year after entering office as cantor of St. Thomas. Considering the fact that in this cantata several strophes from the same chorale appear in various movements, it could easily be thought to be part of the chorale cantata annual cycle, begun in 1724. However likely this might seem, it is not true. Instead, the cantata belongs to a sequence of works in which Bach, right at the beginning of his tenure in Leipzig, methodically began to explore the possibilities of chorale texts and melodies, incorporating them in various experimental forms.¹ Our cantata makes use of only the first three of its hymn’s fourteen strophes in such a way, which would have been highly atypical for the choral cantata annual cycle. Otherwise, the cantata libretto hews closely to the Gospel reading for the fifteenth Sunday after Trinity.
  
  This Gospel reading is found in Matthew 6, not far from portions of the Sermon on the Mount, and contains urgent warnings against anxieties born of little faith:

  No one can serve two masters; either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will keep to the one and hold the other in contempt. You cannot serve God and mammon. Therefore I say to you: Do not worry about your life, what you will eat and drink, also not about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food? And the body more than clothing? See the birds beneath the heavens: they do not sow; they do not reap; they do not gather into barns; and still their heavenly father nourishes them. Are you not much more than they? Who is there among you who could add one cubit to his height because he worries about it? And why do you worry about clothing? Look upon the lilies of the field, how they grow: they do not work, also they do not spin. I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed as one of them. So then if God clothes the grass upon the field that stands today and tomorrow will be cast into the oven, should he not do much more for you, O you of little faith? Therefore you should not worry and say: What will we eat, what will we drink, with what will we clothe ourselves? The Gentiles all strive for such things. For your heavenly father knows that you have need for all of that. If you strive first for the kingdom of God and for his righteousness, then all these things will come to you. Therefore do not worry about the next day; for the coming day will care for its own. It is enough that each day has its own evils. (24–34)

  
  The core ideas of this Gospel account are incorporated in the 1560 church hymn occasionally attributed to Hans Sachs, Warum betrübst du dich, mein Herz which consequently became established as the main hymn for the fifteenth Sunday after Trinity. In hymnaries of the eighteenth century, it occasionally appears beneath the heading “In der Theurung” (In time of famine) or, in greater detail, “Trostreiche Gedanken über die Vorsorge Gottes, auch wider die Haus- und Bauch-Sorge” (Comforting thoughts on the providence of God, also against cares of home and hunger).
  
  The unidentified librettist of our cantata places the first strophe of the chorale at the beginning of his text:

  Warum betrübst du dich, mein Herz?
  Bekümmerst dich und trägest Schmerz
  Nur um das zeitliche Gut?
  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
  Vertrau du deinem Herren Gott, 
  Der alle Ding erschaffen hat.
  
  Why are you aggrieved, my heart?
  Do you trouble yourself and suffer pain
  About a mere temporal matter?
  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
  You must trust in your Lord God,
  Who has created all things.

  After the second question, these words of encouragement “from above,” as it were, are interrupted by a lament in the form of recitative: free, madrigalian recitative verses that permit a good measure of lack of faith to gather against the admonitions of the Gospel reading:

  Ach, ich bin arm,
  Mich drücken schwere Sorgen.
  Von Abend bis zum Morgen
  Währt meine liebe Not.
  Daß Gott erbarm!
  Wer wird mich noch erlösen
  Vom Leibe dieser bösen 
  Und argen Welt?
  Wie elend ists um mich bestellt,
  Ach wär ich doch nur tot!
  
  Ah, I am wretched.
  Heavy cares oppress me.
  From evening until morning
  My accustomed need abides.
  May God have mercy!
  Who will yet deliver me
  From the belly of this evil 
  And wicked world?
  How miserable is everything around me.
  Ah, were I but already dead!

  
  Clearly recognizable in this passage is a verse from Romans 7: “Ich elender Mensch, wer wird mich erlösen vom Leibe dieses Todes?” (24; I, wretched person, who will deliver me from the body of this death?). Four weeks after our cantata originated, it served as text for the opening chorus of a Bach cantata for the nineteenth Sunday after Trinity (Ich elender Mensch, wer wird mich erlösen BWV 48).
  
  Following this chorale with interpolated recitative lines is the cantata’s second movement, the chorale’s second strophe, once again combined with lines of recitative, where the chorale functions again as advice “from above”:

  Er kann und will dich lassen nicht, 
  Er weiß gar wohl, was dir gebricht,
  Himmel und Erd ist sein.
  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
  Dein Vater und dein Herre Gott,
  Der dir beisteht in aller Not.
  
  He cannot and will not abandon you,
  He knows indeed well what you lack,
  Heaven and Earth are his.
  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
  Your father and your Lord God,
  Who stands beside you in all need.

  
  In contrast to the first movement, the second begins with a recitative that further intensifies the lament begun earlier, culminating in the frightened question “Wie kann ich nun mein Amt mit Ruh verwalten, / Wenn Seufzer meine Speise und Tränen das Getränke sein?” (How can I now carry out my duty in peace / When sighs are my meal and tears are my drink?). This makes reference to a verse from Psalm 42: “Meine Tränen sind meine Speise Tag und Nacht, weil man täglich zu mir sagt: wo ist nun dein Gott?” (3; My tears are my food day and night, because every day people say to me: Where is your God now?).
  
  The next section of the recitative—still in the second movement²—makes a clear reference to the Sunday Gospel reading:

  Ach wie?
  Gott sorget freilich vor das Vieh,
  Er gibt den Vögeln seine Speise,
  Er sättigt die jungen Raben,
  Nur ich, ich weiß nicht, auf was Weise
  Ich armes Kind
  Mein bißchen Brot soll haben;
  Wo ist jemand, der sich zu meiner Rettung findt?
  
  Ah, how?
  God certainly provides for the cattle,
  He gives the birds his food,
  He satiates the young ravens.
  Only I, I know not, in what way,
  I, poor child,
  Shall have my little bit of bread.
  Where is someone who can be found for my rescue?

  
  In spite of this extensive lament, reassuring counsel finally wins the day: “Dein Vater und dein Herre Gott, / Der dir beisteht in aller Not” (Your father and your Lord God, / Who stands beside you in all need). And thus in the movements that follow, patience and faith dissolve the worry and lament that have dominated thus far. The third movement, a recitative, reads in part:

  Ach süßer Trost! Wenn Gott mich nicht verlassen
  Und nicht versäumen will,
  So kann ich in der Still 
  Und in Geduld mich fassen.
  
  Ah, sweet comfort! If God will not leave me
  And will not forsake me,
  Then I can, in stillness
  And in patience, compose myself.

  
  The ensuing aria proclaims with utter conviction: “Auf Gott steht meine Zuversicht, / Mein Glaube läßt ihn walten” (Upon God rests my confidence, / My faith lets him rule). A brief ensuing recitative strengthens the ultimate separation from all previous care, after which the third strophe of the chorale closes the libretto:

  Weil du mein Gott und Vater bist,
  Dein Kind wirst du verlassen nicht,
  Du väterliches Herz!
  Ich bin ein armer Erdenkloß,
  Auf Erden weiß ich keinen Trost.
  
  Since you are my God and father,
  You will not abandon your child,
  You fatherly heart!
  I am a poor lump of earth;
  On Earth I know no comfort.

  
  As we said earlier, Bach’s composition of this libretto shows itself to be an experiment on the way to the diverse and elaborate forms that distinguish his annual cycle of chorale cantatas of 1724–25. Compared to them, much here seems concisely structured, concentrated, and restricted to the essential. Thus a few purely instrumental measures are placed at the beginning, before the voices enter: eloquent gestures in the strings; a quotation of the chorale melody in the first oboe d’amore; a descending series of half tones in the second woodwind as a symbol of affliction. In the further course of the movement, participation of the independent instrumental component remains relatively slight; also, a contrapuntal or motet-like preparation of each chorale line does not occur. Instead, these are introduced by the tenor in a kind of prologue. Shortly before the close, the more extensive recitative, given to the alto, is interpolated. Sustained harmonies in the strings noticeably restrain musical activity, but intermittent bursts of animation in the woodwinds provide new impulses.
  
  In the second movement, verbose recitative sections predominate at first over the simply set chorale strophe. Unexpectedly, however, the chorale gains significance, as its closing lines are figurally extended with elaborate counterpoint: “Dein Vater und dein Herre Gott, / Der dir beisteht in aller Not.”
  
  The bass aria “Auf Gott steht meine Zuversicht,” framed by two recitatives, is striking for the predominance of its instrumental component and its dance-like gesture as well as uncomplicated melody. Whether Bach meant to illustrate the text with a naive, unreflective gesture or whether the aria is simply based on an instrumental model such as a minuet from a suite, we cannot say. In any case, the composer treasured this remarkable aria movement highly, as can be seen in the fact that, in the 1730s, he incorporated its revised form as the Gratias Agimus Tibi in his Mass in G Major BWV 236.
  
  The closing chorale combines a relaxed, motet-like vocal component with animated passages for the woodwinds and especially the strings. While the integrity of the chorale movements at the cantata’s beginning was fragmented by the interpolated recitatives, it is easily achieved here, although certainly at the cost of a certain restlessness that runs counter to the function of a closing chorale. Whether this movement was truly meant to be the closing chorale is a question that must remain open. Bach’s score breaks off before the final measure. Whether more has been lost—recitatives, arias, chorale settings—or whether the cantata was originally designed in two parts can no longer be established today.

  ---

  Footnotes

  1. Krummacher (1995, 49 ff.).↵
  2. The movement structure observed by Schulze is that of the NBA, I/22 (Wendt 1987). In Alfred Dürr’s (2005) discussion, the movement structure is that of the old Bach Gesellschaft Edition (as well as the 1990 BWV2), a total of seven altogether: the second movement is a tenor recitative (mm. 1–11 of the NBA second movement), and the third is the chorale with interleaved lines of recitative (m. 12 to the end of the NBA second movement). In Schulze’s discussion, the second movement includes Dürr’s movements 2 and 3, so that in Schulze the movement count is six.—Trans.↵