"Have mercy, Lord, on me...". Finding Healing amidst our sorrows
39. Aria
Have mercy, Lord, on me,
Regard my bitter weeping,
Look at me, heart and eyes
Both weep to Thee bitterly.
The arias in Bach’s Passions are wells of deep emotion. While the different roles tell the story and the choirs answer with hymns, the arias suspend time. They invite us to sit with the experience for a while. Time stands still, while we follow a movement of heart to the depth of our soul.
On this day of Passion week we want to follow the movement of our soul from weeping to the hope of mercy and new life. Yesterday JS Bach invited us in his grand entrance chorus to weep and lament. Some of you wrote movingly to me about this experience. Today, I invite you to follow, to continue this movement of your soul, to bring your lament into view, to hold it tenderly to your heart like you would hold a little child, and then together, to lean into grace, the abundant grace of God.
In these silent hours, says Kierkegaard, when we sit alone with our sorrows, the Divine teacher enters. Notice, it is when we sit with our sorrows, when we do something with them, and thus connect with our spiritual freedom, then is when, as Rahner has it, transcendence breaks in. Christ’s suffering is the “Stellvertreter”, it stands in for our pilgrimage through our sorrows, it teaches us, shows us the way to bear our cross, and to walk through the darkness of our brokenness to renewed life.
“Time’s violence rends the soul; by the rent eternity enters.”
Bach’s music is the therapy, the balm for our burdened souls, that beckons us along the path. The music becomes a mediator between the mercy God offers and our heart. Passion week, and Bach’s Passion as its emissary, become the path through our troubles towards healing and new life.
Bach’s aria “Erbarme Dich” in his St Matthew Passion is probably the most famous and beloved of the arias. How can a song which begs for mercy even be described as beautiful or beloved? It is, because the weaving of music and word offers us a vehicle to hold our deeper emotions without getting lost in them. Instead the movement goes towards integration, not dissociation. It appeals to and integrates all our senses, it is the therapy against our fragmentation, when we are overwhelmed and fall apart, get lost or swept away.
Have you seen a burdened person, or watched yourself in a depressive mood, avoidant state or flooded by anxiety? It is as if our body would freeze, while the mind is running in circles, and the lungs grasp for air. This fragmentation is not a state where we tenderly move our body in order to lean into our suffering.
And here is Bach’s aria “Have mercy, my God”, inviting us almost to dance through our bitter weeping, to get out of our frozen state, to get back into motion. The soul animates the body, as Hildegard of Bingen knows. Weeping while singing and dancing is the therapy Bach offers as Stellvertreter for our sufferings.
We could also say, what Bach offers is a radical interpretation and embodiment of Christ’s passion. If it does not move our hearts, if it does not reach deeper than traditional forms celebrated on set dates, then it is not Christ’s passion. Bach’s ritual of song and dance is more profound. Bach, through his music, practices what one must call radical hospitality when he seduces the listener into graceful mourning and the gentle desire for mercy.
Thus, Bach’s Passion is also therapy for those like me, who sometimes feel they drown in the deep emotions we harbor about our own state and the whole world. As you will see, the Aria expresses the emotion, it is not run by it. This subtle difference makes all the difference.
Let us then weep together, let us beg for mercy together, and let the music and dance bear our heavy sorrows and move us to the depths of our soul.
Listening practice
For Hildegard of Bingen, singing is when the soul animates the body. This is, in part, why I have chosen an interpretation of “Erbarme Dich” by the French contralto and conductor Nathalie Stutzmann, who embodies every word in her gesture and facial expression, almost dancing while conducting her own orchestra. The empathy with which she leans into the Aria instead of just performing it is unmistakable.
Lectio Divina, divine reading, is a longstanding Christian practice of meditation. From its beginning in the deserts of Syria and Egypt, it has included not just reading but also visual art and music. It is a phenomenological approach to a text or artwork: to come as we are, without preconceptions. In our case, without even thinking where in the Passion this aria might have its place or what its context is or what it stands for. Instead we look at the emotion it portrays and feel our way into it. You might want to listen several times:
First Listening
The first time let it wash over you, following where the movement of music and words bring you. Note your responses and sensations.
Can you sense the lightness of a dance inside the cry for mercy? Can you feel into the interpretation, how the singer moves her body and embodies all the pain and the beauty in face and posture?
What draws your attention, the beautiful lines of the violin? The singer? The dialogue between both? Does the rhythm feel like dance, or swaying, or something else? Can you follow the violin into her melancholy and longing? Or the singer into her grief? Can you count how often she begs: “Erbarme Dich / Have mercy” ?
Do you feel consolation washing over you, as the violin takes your grief for a dance? Can you let your whole body lean into it?
Second listening
The second time try to concentrate on the words, a Lectio Divina. Be mindful of the text, what word stands out to you, what speaks to you in this very moment, how and where is the Divine touching your soul?
39. Aria
Have mercy, Lord, on me,
Regard my bitter weeping,
Look at me, heart and eyes
Both weep to Thee bitterly.
39. Arie (Alt I)
Erbarme dich, mein Gott,
um meiner Zähren willen!
Schaue hier,
Herz und Auge weint vor dir bitterlich.
And then listen again. If you can throughout the day. Let the melody follow you, move you, take place in your heart, and grow the wings of your soul. If God has mercy with you, have mercy with you, also. Listen, as often as you need this medicine.
“Bring your lament. Bring your weeping. Your heavy heart and eyes. Divine mercy is waiting for you.”
This post is the 2nd 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