Rita Famos

On the power of praising God

The cantata “Lobe den Herrn meine Seele” (BWV 69a) gives thought to the basic principles of Christian spirituality: Christians do not found their lives on their own. They owe it to God, and they express this fact in praise of their Creator. Faith is transmitted in particular through language. It is the stories of successful life that give Christians strength to believe and live.

“This music lifts me up, glows through me and infects me with its optimistic profundity,” says John Elliot Gardiner about Bach’s music in an interview with the German weekly DIE ZEIT. Something of this glow and optimistic profundity shines forth in the cantata Lobe den Herrn meine Seele. I at least feel strengthened, encouraged but also comforted every time I hear it. The music speaks for itself, independent of the text, and has the power to take me into a state of gratitude and confidence.
But even when the music speaks without words, Gardiner says in another place, “If you are not at least rudimentarily familiar with the religious ideas that animate this music, you can miss many nuances.” In this reflection, I want to follow one of these central “religious ideas”. It underlies the cantata and is: “In the praise of God there is a life-shaping power”.

Thank you…
Praise the Lord my soul. The title of the cantata BWV 69a already thematises the praise of God. However, the intention to praise God is implicit in Bach’s entire work. “Soli Deo Gloria” we read under every musical work by Johann Sebastian Bach as a personal signature. No matter whether the work deals with suffering, guilt, death or is purely instrumental. “Soli Deo Gloria – To the glory of God alone” it is meant to serve. Music has the function of praising God and reflecting the wonders of life, according to the basic conviction already expressed by the reformer Martin Luther and which lies behind Bach’s work. Bach thus expresses that he always wants to point beyond himself. To another origin, to another, a greater power. And with the abbreviation “SDG” he expresses that his creative work connects him with the creative creative power of God, which he senses as the primal ground beneath all being.
With the ancient biblical words, the cantata BWV 69a encourages us listeners to join in the praise of God and express our gratitude to God. At first, gratitude is not bound to a recognisable reason. It is a general gratitude towards life.
This gratitude towards existence and the miracle of life is felt by everyone, whether religious or not. It takes hold of us, for example, during experiences of nature: when the first ray of sunlight caresses our face in the morning, when the spray electrifies our skin, when the clear starry night directs our gaze into the universe. It overwhelms us at the birth of a child, which we can explain biologically, but which nevertheless leaves us in awe-struck wonder. We become grateful simply because we are there, because we are allowed to share in the uniqueness of life.
Religious people give these feelings an address. They express their gratitude to the Creator God. For two millennia, the liturgies of all Christian denominations have contained the element of praise to God as a fixed component. Regardless of the very concrete situation in life, at the beginning of the prayer of the day or the service, the gaze is turned away from one’s own existence towards God. Man acknowledges before his Creator that he does not exist by his own strength, that his life is an undeserved gift. Christian worship has institutionalised this grateful turning towards the source of being. It has thus become a kind of spiritual exercise that is rhythmically implanted in the lives of practising Christians. Regularly becoming aware that human beings do not create their own lives is a genuine part of Christian spirituality.
The individual believer is certainly not always in the mood to devote himself to this praise of God. For the natural impulse of man is rather to constantly keep the dangers, risks and problems before his eyes in order to develop coping strategies in time. This impulse is certainly an important strategy that ensures the further development and survival of the human race. But the Christian liturgy, with its praise of God, puts a complement to this anxious impulse. Looking away from the dangers and problems towards God and his creative, creative power creates a healthy distance and relieving humility: Man does not have to master life or even improve the world by his own strength alone. There is God, who created the world and whose creative power continues to work in all life. That relieves, that comforts, that encourages. At the same time, the individual believer, even if often not in the mood for gratitude, allows himself to be carried and inspired by the community, which repeats the old songs and prayers.

… and tell!
Now, however, both the cantata text and the psalm text on which it is based go a step further. “Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not what good he has done for you.” The tenor aria takes up this encouragement to remember with gratitude by also announcing the method of remembering while singing: “My soul, up, tell!”
There is great power in telling the stories in which life has succeeded. The biblical tradition is narrative. It passes down many stories of how people, with God’s help, have succeeded in life from generation to generation. And the biblical tradition calls on us to do the same as individuals in the community: tell stories of how you have mastered life. Don’t forget all the good things that have already happened to you.
Victor Frankl, the Jewish doctor and psychotherapist, founder of logotherapy, describes his experiences in the Auschwitz concentration camp during the Second World War in his well-known work “…and yet say yes to life”. One story has left a lasting impression on my memory: Frankl tells of a day when he and his fellow sufferers were already very depressed when suddenly the electricity failed. Hopeless and completely exhausted, the tortured lay on their cots in the dark barracks. Then Frankl was asked by the block elder to speak to his fellow prisoners. And although he did not feel like it, he raised his voice. He spoke of the uncertainty of the future. “But,” Frankl continued, “I spoke not only of the future and of the darkness in which it was shrouded, and of the present with all its sufferings, but I also spoke of the past – of all its joys and the light it still gave into the darkness of our days. I quoted the poet who says: ‘What you have experienced, no power in the world can rob you of’. What we have realised in the fullness of our past life, in its wealth of experience, nothing and no one can take away from us this inner richness. But not only what we have experienced, what we have done, what we have ever thought great things, and what we have suffered (…) all this we have saved into reality, once and for all. And even if it has passed – it is secured in the past for all eternity! For being past is also a kind of being, yes, perhaps the most secure.”
Frankl then goes on to speak of the possibility of filling every situation, life, with meaning, and concludes by describing the effect of what he considers his modest attempt to cheer up his fellow prisoners. “Soon the electric bulb on a beam of our barrack flared up again, and I saw the wretched figures of my comrades, who now hobbled up to my place with tears in their eyes to – thank me…”
This unforgettable account of a day in Auschwitz is a testament to the power that lies in recounting life’s bright moments. The telling of powerful moments takes people out of the paralysing present and transports them to the moment when they felt vibrancy and vitality, when they created life, when they felt joy. Storytelling brings the energy contained in those moments into the present and takes people out of the trance into which worries, fears and anguish can entangle them. Through storytelling, people can connect with their possibilities and the potential that is within them, even though it is not available to them at the moment.
Most of the time this does not happen spontaneously. The problems of the present are naturally closer to us than the success stories and moments of happiness of the past. That is why we need a friend, a pastor or a therapist from time to time to gently take us by the hand and lead us to the lighter moments in our life story. The cantata Lobe den Herrn, meine Seele can also take on this pastoral role. Its powerful music with its clear invitation reminds us to be grateful for the miracle of life in which we are allowed to participate. Listening to the lilting sounds, we are invited to gratefully visualise successful moments in our lives. Should life throw us onto the “rough track”, thanksgiving and recounting memories will strengthen us.

Literature
– John Eliot Gardiner, Bach – Music for a Castle in the Sky, Hanser, Munich 2016
– John Eliot Gardiner, “This music glows through me”, interview in: DIE ZEIT, 8 December 2016
– Victor Frankl, “… and still say yes to life”, Kösel, Munich 3rd edition 2012

This text has been translated with DeepL (www.deepl.com).