Joy, Not Obligation

Buxtehude’s Abendmusiken exemplified a godly and selfless endeavor to edify the neighbors nearest to him, caring far more about his music and his people than how much he would be compensated or how far his fame might spread, or even whether the music would last.

Our students’ musical ensembles this year—the ones that play and sing on Wednesday mornings— are a wonderful model of the proper attitude we should have toward music. Students are free to put together groups, select pieces, and organize practice times together. No one is giving them a grade or rewarding (or threatening!) them with house points. They strive for excellence because they want to. Music is created out of joy, not obligation.

An example of this attitude is set by the Lutheran composer Dieterich Buxtehude (c. 1637-1707), probably best known as a master of the organ. Buxtehude received musical instruction as part of the liberal arts curriculum of Helsingør’s Lutheran Latin school, from principles of music theory to composition to singing in choirs for Danish and German-speaking churches. Choirs in such schools typically met for an hour at noon each day, sang in polyphony (sometimes from door-to-door on the eves of feast days), and were available to perform at weddings and funerals. It sounds not unlike the musical culture at Mount Hope!

When his studies in Helsingør and an apprenticeship were complete, Buxtehude traced the footsteps of his father and took positions as organist first in Helsingborg, then in Helsingør, then finally in Lübeck, where he would remain for almost forty years. Lübeck was a thoroughly Lutheran city. According to one disgruntled visitor in the 1670s, in “inconsiderate zeal… their Lutheran Ministers…had persuaded the Magistrates to banish all Roman Catholics, Calvinists, Jews, and all that dissented from them in matter of Religion, even the English Company too.” The same observer above also noted, “The people here spend much time in their Churches at devotion, which consists chiefly in singing.”

Musical life in Lübeck was vigorous and impressive. The city employed seven elite musicians, who were extremely versatile, and boasted a guild of other instrumentalists who were available to play at churches and for weddings. Together with Buxtehude, they performed dinner music for the aristocracy, sacred music for services at St. Mary’s, and private chamber music in their own homes. This “professional house music” once attracted a visit from the famous Lutheran composer and hymn writer Johann Rist in 1666, who was greatly pleased with the experience.

Perhaps the most illustrious feature of musical life in Lübeck was the Abendmusiken, a five-part series of evening concerts performed annually at St. Mary’s on the last two Sundays of the church year and the first three Sundays of Advent. This endeavor was entirely voluntary labor on the part of Buxtehude—it was not included in his official duties. Buxtehude composed the music, raised the funds, and of course conducted the performances for Abendmusiken, which were typically dramatic oratorios expounding on a biblical theme and often aligning with the time of the church year. For instance, an oratorio titled The Wedding of the Lamb included biblical texts about the wise and foolish virgins, familiar chorales such as “Wachet auf” (“Wake, Awake, for Night is Flying”), and new poetry sung in a duet between Christ and the Church.

While the people of Lübeck were immensely proud of Buxtehude’s Abendmusiken, the event did not always sail smoothly. Buxtehude sometimes had to beg for extra funds from the city’s elite, and he was not always personally satisfied with the performances. There were sometimes complaints about unruly young people making too much noise in the church—the church which was also inevitably cold that time of year. Furthermore, most of Buxtehude’s Abendmusiken have been lost: three librettos and a handful of titles are all that remain. As discouraging as these circumstances may be, Buxtehude’s Abendmusiken exemplified a godly and selfless endeavor to edify the neighbors nearest to him, caring far more about his music and his people than how much he would be compensated or how far his fame might spread, or even whether the music would last. His sacred vocal music—none of it an obligation to his duties—consists of 114 compositions. (Here is his absolutely lovely setting of “Lord, Thee I Love with All My Heart”!)

Our students at Mount Hope are following this beautiful tradition: studying, composing, and making music not for selfish gain, not out of fear or necessity, but out of love for God and their neighbor.

In Christ,
Miss Hahn

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