P R O G R A M T W O S u n d a y 4 p. m.
G. F. Handel. Brockes Passion - a Pastiche
Sinfonia (Overture)
Choir (from Messiah): Surely He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.
He was wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities.
The chastisement for our sins was upon Him!
+ The Upper Room +
Narrator: When Jesus sat down at the table and ate the Passover, foreshadowing His death, with His disciples, He took bread, and as He broke it, giving thanks to God, He gave it to them saying:
Jesus: Take ye and eat. This is my Body. This do in remembrance of Me.
Solo (Daughter of Zion): O Lord, who dost the heavens span.
Whom space doth not confine,
Art here by mystery to man,
In, with, and under bread and wine,
Giv’st nourishment for sinners’ souls:
Thy love, Thy grace, Thy mercy, mine.
Narr: And soon thereafter, He took the Cup, giving thanks, gave it to them saying:
Jesus: This is My Blood of the New Testament that I will shed for you and for many.
For He, who drinks thereof, receives forgiveness for His sins.
So that ye know why I was sent, I want that everyone, who drinks My Blood with Me, will evermore remember Me.
Choir: Ah, how hungers all my spirit
For the love I do not merit.
Ah, how oft with sighs fast thronging
For this food have I been longing.
Oft have I sought this refreshing
In the Cup of life and blessing
Giv’n by Him, Who here invites us
And to God Himself unites us.
Narr: Here upon they thanked their Lord, and having sung a Canticle, they went over the Brook Kidron to the Mount of Olives, where He then spake to His disciples:
+ Garden of Gethsemane +
Jesus: All ye this night, because of Me, shall be offended, yea, and shall desert Me.
Disciples: We all would rather die than leave Thee, nor by desertion ever grieve Thee.
Jesus: It is surely true, for thus it is written:
Yea, lo, the Shepherd will be smitten,
And all the sheep scattered abroad.
Peter: At least, I alone,
in spite of all misfortune,
e’en though the night of hell overcome the world, destroying all,
Yet, I will stay with Thee!
Jesus: I tell you:
yea, before the cock will crow tonight,
e’en you will three times Me deny.
Peter: I would rather with Thee be strangled and be buried,
yea, ten times over would I perish, yea, or be slain,
before I’d leave Thee or deny Thee!
Jesus: Abide ye here.
Now will I pray to My Father, but do not sleep,
for now is the time for praying:
My Father, look upon My torment, have mercy upon My plight.
My heart doth break, and too, My spirit is sorrowful, e’en unto death!
I am oppressed by the weight of sin.
With anguish I approach the brink.
I am engulfed by a black mire; I sink to a bottomless pit.
From all my veins my blood doth spurt,
Pressed forth by Hell’s wild, raging fire.
And must (beside all these torments), also Thy wrath, O Father, suffer,
Which rend’reth all other pains as naught!
There is no sorrow like Mine own sorrow.
If possible, may Thy wrath subside? Then, let this cup be taken away.
Yet may, O Father, not My will, but Thine alone, Thy will be done!
Choir (J. S. Bach. Matthew Passion): Whate’er God wills, that shall be done.
His will is wise and holy.
His hand is there to help each one,
Who trusts the Father solely.
Our gracious Lord doth help afford;
With mildness He doth chasten.
They who believe, they to Him cleave,
Shall never be forsaken.
Solo: Sinners, look with fear and trembling
On the burden of our sin.
Bear the punishment and pain!
Narr: And Jesus writhed in pain,
His agony waxed greater, so that He scarce could shed a tear for pain.
His weakened limbs began to tremble; hardly a breath left His dry throat.
His anguished heart began to hammer faster,
Until bloody sweat, in countless droplets pouring, gushed from His veins so red.
‘Til finally, tormented unto death, full of fear, despoiled, half alive,
He fought with death itself!
Narr: An angel then came down from God’s own heavenly throne room to serve Him in His anguish, to strengthen Him.
Then went He where the band of His disciples lay, and there He found them all in sweet repose. Thus, He did call them anxiously:
Jesus: Awake ye, now!
Peter/James/John: Who calls? Yea, Lord, who calls?
Jesus: Could ye in this most dreadful night,
when I must yield to death’s dark power,
not watch with Me a single hour?
Arise ye, now!
Peter/James/John: Yea, yea!
Jesus: Yea, now arise! He who betrays Me is here!
Narr: Before His speech had even reached its end, came Judas forth to Him, and with him a great throng with swords and some with spears.
Crowd: Seize Him, strike Him, kill Him! But no!
Ye must be sure that He is captured alive!
Narr: And the traitor had conspired with them that he would give them a sign:
Judas: Whomever I shall kiss, so you may know Him – that will be the Man.
Then run, surround Him, all you together!
Crowd: He now shall not escape us.
Judas: Hail, Lord, I greet Thee with a kiss.
Jesus: My friend, tell Me, wherefore art thou come?
Solo: Fire and poison, flood and lightning,
Suppress him, consume him, devour him, destroy him,
That false-hearted traitor, despicable murderer!
Now they bind Jesus;
see His plight – no intervention yet in sight.
Thus, may your courage undaunted be,
to spill this scoundrel’s shameless blood.
Depend not on fire and poison, flood and lightning.
Jesus: Put up Thy sword into its sheath.
For he that draws the sword shall by the sword perish.
Or, do you not believe that I could now,
from My own Father who is in heaven,
request the help of legions of angels?
Yet Holy Writ predicts that it shall thus befall.
(To the soldiers) - Are ye come here with swords and staves,
to capture Me, as though a murderer?
Have you not heard Me preach and teach?
For I was daily in the temple;
And there none of you ever tried to capture Me.
And yet, it must now come to pass,
What long the Prophets have foretold.
Disciples: Ah, woe, they bind Him now with rope and tackle.
Hence, let us flee. Let’s for our lives be running!
Choir (from Messiah): All we as sheep art gone astray.
We have turned everyone to his own way.
And the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all!
Peter: Where shall ye run in desperation? Pray halt! They now are gone.
What shall I do? Should I follow the others, since I alone can nothing do for Him.
No, no, my heart, no, no, I’ll leave Him not alone.
E’en though my life will be in danger, I must see where they will lead my Jesus.
+ Caiaphas’ Palace +
Narr: And Jesus - to the Palace of Caiaphas, where the elders and the scribes sat assembled – was driven more than He was led; and Peter, part by rage and part by fear impelled, followed Him from a distance.
The council, meanwhile, met, and quite in vain endeavored, through false witnesses, to ensnare Him. Thus, then did Caiaphas speak to Jesus also:
Caiaphas: We wish to know what evil Thou hast done, and also more of what Thou teachest.
Jesus: What I have taught, that I’ve done openly. I need not here and now tell thee thereof. Ask rather those who heard what I was teaching.
Soldier: Thou heretic! Art Thou so bold to give the High Priest such an answer!
Wait, take this blow! It will avenge Thy crime!
Choir (from J. S. Bach. Matthew Passion):
O Lord, who dares to strike Thee,
As “heretic” indict Thee,
Deride and mock Thee so?
Thou canst not need confession,
Who knowest no transgression,
As we and all our children know.
Narr: All this did Peter see, who (outside by the fire) had stealthily sat down.
And there a maid passed by, who spake as soon as she set eyes on him:
Maid 1: I swear by all that’s dear that he is one of Jesus’ men.
Peter: Who, I? No, surely not. Thou must be wrong.
Narr: Not long thereafter, another maid began:
Maid 2: As far as I can now recall, thou too wert with the Prisoner here – one of His followers. Thus, I am wondering why you have dared to come here?
Peter: What foolish talk! I know not what thou sayest. I truly know not who He is!
Narr: At once another looked at him and said:
Maid 3: Thou surely art one of His followers; in vain thou triest to save thyself.
In the Garden thou wert at His side. Also, thy speech doth betray thee.
Peter: May I now perish and be drowned, be consumed by thunder bolts and lightning, if ever, even a single time, I’ve seen this Man anywhere!
Narr: Then did the cock crow –
scarce now the strident wail did Peter’s ears assail
that from his heart of stone – immediately,
as Moses’ rock did water yield – a flood of tears ran down his cheeks,
while bitterly he cried:
Peter: What overwhelming grief oppresseth now my heart!
A shutter cold affrights my soul.
The wild fire of the dark tormenting pit
consumes with flame the very blood within me.
My very innards shriek, as from smoldering embers.
Where shall I find relief? From whence shall rescue come?
Solo: Wail, thou cursed of human beings!
Tremble, wicked slave of sin!
Tremble for God is thy Judge; He destroys the stubborn sinner.
Peter: And yet shall I in desperation perish?
No, my oppressed heart, my shameful soul.
I shall seek my Jesus’ wondrous mercy,
And grace implore.
Choir: Alas, my God, my sins are great;
My conscience doth upbraid me.
And now I find that in my strait
No man hath power to aid me.
Lord, Thee I seek, I merit naught;
Yet pity and restore me.
Just God, be not Thy wrath my lot;
Thy Son hath suffered for me.
Narr: When Jesus now (though many still accused Him) kept silent and held His peace, then Caiaphas stood up and thus spoke unto Him:
Caiaphas: Since no word can be wrest from Thee,
And Thou to all these witnessed words and charges
dost make no answer, have no comments,
Thus, I adjure Thee by the living God,
Confess if Thou art the Christ, God’s Son?
Jesus: I am! Henceforth will I be placed at the right hand of Power,
And from the clouds above, thou’lt see Me return.
Caiaphas: Blasphemer, Thou! What need have we of further witnesses?
Have ye not heard it for yourselves, how He doth blaspheme God!
What think ye now?
Narr: Then all the multitude cried out:
Crowd: Yea, He deserves to die!
Choir (from J. S. Bach. Matthew Passion):
What punishment most strange is offered yonder!
The Shepherd dies for sheep that love to wander.
The Master pays the debt His servants owe Him,
Though they disown Him
Narr: The night had scarcely passed.
The tired world was still in slumber wrapped,
when Jesus - once again with hands and feet in chains,
amidst contemptible derision –
was dragged to Pilate for his judgment.
Solo: Why did my Savior have to suffer?
For whom, O God, for whom?
For whose transgressions must he be bound?
For whose wrong doing, whose offenses,
Must He the henchman’s cruelty endure?
For whom must Jesus now atone?
I alone am the guilty one.
+ Judas Alone +
Judas: O, what have I, accursed mortal, done!
Will no lightning, nor bolt of thunder, fell me?
Gape, chasm, gape, and open up the dreadful path to hell!
But yet, even hell’s dismayed at my misdeeds.
The devil too is ashamed!
I am the wretch! I have betrayed my God!
Avenge this deed, spare not your fury!
Rip off my flesh, my limbs dismember,
Ye spirits in that cave infernal
Strike with fire and brimstone for my desecration!
That condemned,
My soul may suffer pain eternal!
Unspeakable my pain, my torments do abound!
The air complains for having given me breath;
The earth, for having given me firm ground.
My worth alone is condemnation!
The stars, blazing comets, now become atrocities that come to kill me.
There is no grave for me on earth, or in heaven,
for my soul, no dwelling place.
What shall I then in my despair, accursed murderer, do?
In torment great, in dire desperation, I must now hang myself.
Choir (from J. L. Bach. Luke Passion): Ne’er a Shepherd with such caring
Sought His sheep that went astray,
As our God, whose love unsparing,
Seeks the lost one day by day.
How His heart for him now burns,
For the lamb who from Him turns.
His true Lord and sheepfold spurning,
Still Christ seeks him with great yearning.
+ Pilate’s Judgment Hall +
Narr: When Pontius Pilate now asked Jesus if He were King of the Jews, He said:
Jesus: Thou hast said it.
Crowd: Oh, punish now this malefactor, the foe of Caesar, evil traitor!
Pilate: Hast Thou not heard the charges?
And wilt Thou say but naught in Thy defense?
Hast Thou not heard how gravely they accuse Thee?
Narr: But He said not one word more.
Solo: Say’st Thou naught to these accusers, to the mocking inquisition,
Word Eternal, now not a sound?
Jesus: No, instead I now will show you, that by silence -
I recover what by chatter you have lost.
Narr: Then Pontius Pilate marveled greatly,
and since he was wont at the Feast to free a prisoner, choice of the people, he therefore tried his best that they not ask for Barabbas,
who was for murder thrown into prison,
but hoped that Jesus be chosen.
Yet cried the throng with frenzied savage glee:
Crowd: No, no not Him!
Barabbas now set free!
Pilate: What will ye have me do with your King of the Jews?
Crowd: Away, let Him be crucified!
Pilate: What evil hath He done?
Crowd: Away, let Him be crucified!
Narr: Now when he saw that he the tumult could not quiet, he finally cried, “Yes,” and surrendered Him to their will.
Choir (from J. S. Bach. John Passion):
Through Thine own bondage, God’s dear Son,
Thou hast us freedom given.
And from Thy cell, Thy gracious throne,
Our liberty is risen.
Hadst Thou disdained this slavery sore,
Then were we slaves forevermore.
Narr: Then did the henchmen drag Jesus within,
and called (to excite their rage the more) the multitude together.
They tied Him up to a rock
and flogged Him hard on His back with ropes with nails encrusted.
Solo: O ponder now -
with agonized enjoyment,
with bitter mirth,
and sorely stressed in spirit.
Thy highest good is Jesus’ suffering.
For thee the thorn-crown pricks Him deeper.
The “Heavenly Keys,” primroses bloom! (Holy Absolution)
Thou canst the sweetest fruit from His sour wormwood relish.
Lo, how the murderers beat the stripes upon His back.
How deep, how cruelly deep, the furrows brutally drawn,
In which the lashes fling His blood
From which the dying world its harvest soon will spring!
O see, from Jesus’ wounds there flows a balm -
a wondrous healing force, unique miraculous power.
Though His own wounds heal not, His blood becomes our healing,
Forgiveness, life, and joy – for this He now must die!
Choir (from Messiah): And with His stripes we are healed.
Narr: As now His blood, its bleeding doth subside,
they place on Him a robe in royal purple,
and on His head - with scorn, with great disdain –
they press a crown of thorns!
Narr: Then on their knees they knelt in mocking sarcasm,
And laughing, scoffed at Him and said:
Crowd: As subjects we must pay Him homage –
We hail Thee, King of the Jews!
Narr: Yea, they did not refrain from spitting in His face.
And with the very reed He held in His own hands,
they whipped His head so sorely bruised.
When they now had their fill of inflicting on Him insults, pain, and torment,
they stripped from Him the purple robe He wore,
and put on Him again His own garment,
and finally led Him away to be crucified at Golgatha.
Choir (from J. S. Bach. Matthew Passion):
O bleeding Head, now wounded, With grief and pain weighed down.
O bleeding Head surrounded, With thorns Thine only crown.
O bleeding Head, what glory, What bliss ‘til now was Thine.
Yet though despised and gory, I joy to call Thee mine.
Thou Countenance, most regal, Thou Face, which sinners dread.
. With hate and force illegal, They mock and strike Thy head.
How pale art Thou with anguish! The light, which lit Thine eyes
They fain would now extinguish, Thee, shamefully chastise.
O bleeding Head, what glory, What bliss ‘til now was Thine.
Yet though despised and gory, I joy to call Thee mine.
INTERMISSION (10 minutes)
+ Golgatha +
Solo: Haste, ye souls, whom care oppresses,
Flee from trouble’s dark recesses, come!
Choir: O where? O where?
Solo: To Golgatha.
Haste on wings of faith’s conviction, fly!
Choir: O where? O where?
Solo: To Font and Altar, thy salvation ‘waits thee there, come!
Choir: O where? O where?
Solo: To Golgatha.
Narr: When they now reached the place (Golgatha by name) with our Lord Jesus,
they gave Him gall and wine to drink, and soon thereafter crucified Him.
Choir: O sinful man! It was the ban
Of death on thee that brought Him
Down to suffer for thy sins
And such woe hath wrought Him.
Lo, stained with blood, the Lamb of God,
The Bridegroom lies before thee,
Pouring out His life that He
May to life restore thee.
Narr: As soon as He was crucified, the band of mercenaries cast their lots for his
garments, and over His head they wrote: “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.” And all that passed by did jeer, blaspheme, and mock Him, im pulsively, as did a thief on a cross near Him.
Choir (from Messiah): He trusted in God that He would deliver Him:
Let Him deliver Him, if He delight in Him.
Narr: And a great dense darkness, which at the sixth hour arose, spread over all the land.
And soon thereafter, at the ninth hour, called Jesus loudly and spake:
Jesus: Eli, Eli, lama sabachtani!
Narr: That is translated to our language:
“My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me!”
Thereafter, as He knew well that all was now accomplished,
He cried out with a parched throat, saying:
Jesus: I thirst!
Narr: Then ran a soldier nigh, and brought to Him a sponge soaked in vinegar.
And sticking it on a reed, he held it up to quench His need.
Thereupon, Jesus cried loudly, with all His strength:
Jesus: It is fulfilled!
Choir: O blessed Word! O wondrous Statement!
For Thou, O sinner, need’st no longer
Fear death, or Hell, or Satan’s power!
O Sound that all our sin’s forgiven,
It us such blessedness assureth.
For God doth truly keep His Word!
It is fulfilled! It is fulfilled! It is fulfilled!
Solo: O blest be the believer,
and who, when sunk in deep affliction, can find in these words consolation!
Narr: Then bowed He His head.
Solo: O gracious heart! O how merciful thy God!
Narr: And He expired.
Solo: Behold, a rumbling sound in graves far below us –
a crack appears in the ground – a dark abyss – a deep black chasm.
The air is filled with sulfurous odors.
Centurian: Dear God, what is this? Lord, spare us! What fear fills my soul!
The world is cast in blackest darkness – in heavy fog it now is shrouded.
Ah, woe, the chasm gapes – it spits fire and vapor.
The clouds hurl lightning – the air gives birth to flames.
The rock is rent – and stone and mountain yawn.
Could Jesus’ death perhaps be the cause?
Ah, yea, in all these wonders I can read:
This dying Man is God’s own Son indeed!
Solo: Ah, why - when earth and heaven weep,
when gaping clefts do show blind depths of chasms yawning,
when mountains bursting, rocks are crumbling,
my hardening heart does not grow soft?
Yea, yea - it beats now - it breaks now.
His dying redeems my soul from Hell’s damnation.
Sinfonia and Choir (from J. Ludwig Bach. Luke Passion):
For Jesus Christ is now my Stay,
Who died to take my sins away;
And rose that He might for my sake
Hell’s fires abate,
With precious blood God’s vengeance take.
+ Epilogue – At the Tomb +
Choir (from J. S. B. John Passion):
Refrain: Rest well, Beloved, sweetly sleeping,
That I may cease from further weeping,
And let me, too, rest well.
The grave that is prepared for Thee,
And holds no further pain for me,
Doth open Heaven to me, And close the gates of Hell.
[Refrain above repeated: Rest well, Beloved…]
Choir: I am a branch in Thee, the Vine, And hence the comfort borrow.
That Thou wilt surely keep me Thine Through fear and pain and sorrow.
And when I die, I die to Thee. Thy precious death hath won for me.
That life that never endeth.