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““It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro’ the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
”
Dear fellow pilgrim,
We have written about Christmas, Passion Week and Easter, so often now that they all blend together. And this seems right. For if Christmas is the fresh innocence of “God with us,” then Passion Week is the woeful human story of what happens when even God comes among us. If Christmas happened as we have heard, then Christ’s suffering our human condition seems inevitable.
And Easter is the joyful reassertion of God’s presence even among our sufferings, ever renewed, ever greening. The greening power evident even in winter’s chill.
Here lies our hope from Easter, amidst our sorrow. That joy and woe are intertwined, They are both here. They do not cancel each other, instead they enrich each other. They are essential parts of any human experience.
One of the greatest Easter joys for us was that, after four years, we finally figured out the baby phone so Hannah could sleep and we could participate in the Easter midnight service.
So we sat through the night here at the cloister in a cold church with dark texts and meditation, and warmed by the Easter bonfire in the courtyard at midnight. And then Bells and Trumpets. We were greeted, welcomed, awakened, and enfolded by them.
There is probably no greater mystery than the Easter liturgy. Sitting in the cold stone of the church, it walked us through the night of the tomb toward renewed life. Then came the sermon. — — There was probably nothing wrong with it, but at one in the morning, we were probably more ready for beer and cheering. We settled for wine and cheese and candlelight, and deep theological discussion back home at the kitchen table.
Perhaps one cannot make literal sense of much of the Easter story? Therefore we retreat to Bach, whose genius can tell the story and translate it into a movement of the heart, meeting us in the here and now, bringing us to hope.
The stone is rolled away indeed. Hallelujah! And dead seeds come greening out of soil.
And us? We still arrive as the faithful doubters we are. Held up by the story and by Bach’s music.
The Netherlands Bach Society performs 'Kommt, eilet und laufet' for All of Bach.
This Oster-Oratorium (Easter oratorio) was first performed on Easter Sunday in 1725. Two days earlier, the congregation in Leipzig had listened to the St John Passion, just as in 1724. The closing chorus ‘Ruht wohl, ihr heiligen Gebeine’ sent them on their way home to celebrate Holy Saturday. And then, on Sunday morning, the church resounded with the huge contrast of a Sinfonia with leading roles for three trumpets and timpani. Before the singers get going, Bach seems to recall Jesus’s death with a melancholy Adagio in B minor for solo oboe and strings. (from: https://www.bachvereniging.nl/en/bwv/bwv-249/)
A Word of thanks
Our Passion Week Consolations would not be without you. Our dear fellow pilgrims, faithfully walking alongside us. Thank you for having walked with us this year. Signs of hope are flowering all around us, and green buds have developed at the trees here in downtown Berlin. How are your signs of hope doing?
Thank you for entrusting us with this journey. This is a journey we have not chosen. It has been laid on our hearts, and made possible by kind spirits who invited other kind spirits in. In the end we have been a group of kindred spirits looking for consolation in Bach’s music. We have cherished sharing this journey with each of you, and each note we received from you over this week.
Some of you came with personal grief and loss, some with the burden of the whole world on your shoulders, some with the longing for healing for your soul. Some struggle with very concrete burdens right here and now. We particularly think of friends who shared severe health issues of a loved one. Some noticed over the run of the week that leaning into our sorrows not only opens the flood gates, but also offers the balm we need for healing.
Some of you came with a love of Bach, some of you discovered Bach new or anew. Some know by now that Bach is really not their music after all though the movement of heart still might be.
If you feel you are left with too much turmoil, or if you feel Spring might not come for you this year, do not hesitate to reach out to one of us. We would like to extend our hand and listen to your sorrows if needed.
We have given these consolations as a gift from our heart to yours. And we are so grateful for the many who have given a gift in return. Thank you, thank you. Our projects depend on it and it encourages us to go on with such a “ministry of bearing.” Besides the monetary gifts we need to cover our costs, we appreciate also your feedback, prayers, advice, and especially your help to connect this ministry with other seekers.
If you would like to give our passion week consolations as a gift to others or to come back to it later the good news is, the Easter season last until Pentecost. So come back when you have the time or share with some one in need if some consolation. Just use this link which brings you right to our Passion Week Consolation page and archive.
And our gratitude:
Thank you, kindred souls,
for having been with us this Passion week,
for having shared with us Bach’s consolations,
and for having shared your thoughts and gifts with us.
All is deeply appreciated.
May new life fill your heart like the telling of Spring.
Yours, Almut & Chuck with little one
This post is the 7th of our Passion Week Consolations 2020. To enter our virtual gathering space click here. To share your thoughts with us, write us here. To Offer Your Gift, click here. If you are looking for personal consultation, visit our PathFinder.
Peace and Blessings, Almut & Chuck