28 June 2017

I am ashamed to confess

That until this very day I've never listened all the way through Bach's Mass in b Minor, at least I have not meditated my way all through it. Today it consummed my commute both ways and my workout at noon. When I finished each section I just thought: and so the Divine Service in heaven must sound. The plaintive Kyrie at the start is wrung from a heart that is parched and pleading for mercy (with the lightness at the Christe, already recognizing that in Him we have been given the mercy for which we long). The two women's voices virtually dancing together at the start of the second article, two yet one, a beautiful picture of the two natures in one person. But the treatment of the Crucifixus...words fail. We stand before the miracle of the cross and its weight presses down and down upon us. This. For us. And then all heaven breaking loose at the resurrexit. Also, the joy at the remissionem peccatorum, you could almost see the waters springing up ever new and carrying forgiveness to the ends of the earth. It was truly balm for the soul, as it wraps us in something ever so much bigger than we dare to dream.

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