This very special service of worship this morning takes us back to Germany in the 18th century. From 1723 to 1750, Johann Sebastian Bach served as Cantor and Music Director of the St. Thomas Lutheran Church in Leipzig. To begin to understand the significance of the music he composed during that period, we need to know that music and theology, music and worship were closely intertwined in the church and culture of the day.

Martin Luther had said that "young men must not be ordained into the ministry unless they have become well-acquainted with music," and by the same token, Bach's examination for his post in music at St. Thomas Church was a rigorous theology exam conducted in Latin.

Bach was a man of learning and of deep faith. At the time of his death, his library contained many volumes of sermons, Bible commentaries, studies of the Council of Trent, the Augsburg Confession, the Lord's Supper, Baptism, two editions of the collected works of Martin Luther, and other devotional writings. His own Bible reveals notes he made in the margins. During his 27-year tenure in Leipzig, he carried responsibility for instructing the boys of the St. Thomas School in catechism as well as vocal and instrumental music. He was also responsible for directing the music in several large churches where there were two services every weekday and seven hours of services on Sunday.

For each Sunday and Holy Day, Bach was expected to compose a cantata, such as the one we will hear later this morning as our sermon in music, based on the scripture, the lectionary reading of the day. These cantatas are less well-known, perhaps, than his other works, but Bach composed more than 300 of them during his time in Leipzig, and more than 200 remain today.

Fortunately, it appears that Bach enjoyed good working relationships with the pastors with whom he served. Coordination in worship planning was of the essence. The only spoken words in the weekly three-hour Sunday morning service came in the sermon, which normally lasted about an hour. I spare you that this morning. Everything else, including the prayers and scripture readings, was sung or intoned.

Though now revered with saint-like status-in fact it was Samuel Wesley, son of Charles Wesley, who first referred to him as Saint Sebastian-in his own time, Bach's music was at points controversial. He was passionate to convey the converting and transforming power of God available in Jesus Christ. His texts used the earthy, direct German of his day. His harmonies shocked and surprised his listeners, designed as they were to carry believers into the depths of sin and despair and into the full joy of salvation, that they might know for themselves the saving power of Christ Jesus.

More than anything, the overarching purpose of Bach's work was to glorify God and give thanks to the Creator for every blessing of life. Most of his compositions were noted at the beginning with initials J.J. for "Jesus helps" in Latin and concluded with S.D.G., Soli Deo Gloria, to God alone be the glory.

May this service of worship, modeled on the Leipzig service of Bach's day, give full expression to your longings and hopes as believers, and draw you closer to Christ. Listen now as we hear Bach's Kyrie eleison, which in Greek means "Christ have mercy," in which the closing measures of both the chorale, which the choir will sing, and then the organ chorale, are anguishingly expressive of the human cry for God's mercy.

God works in manifold ways, great wonders to perform. For over three centuries, God's love and mercy through Jesus Christ have been preached through the music of Johann Sebastian Bach. Spreading from 18 century Leipzig all around the earth, observers have noted a tremendous Bach revival in Japan at the present moment, where many are converting to Christianity upon hearing the music of Bach. Some have called his music "the Fifth Gospel."

Bach's faith is the faith of Martin Luther. It is the theology of the cross, wherein all suffering is claimed and redeemed by God; wherein all brokenness is healed, all division overcome; wherein the powers of death are conquered by the power of love in the ever-living Christ.

We will shortly hear this fundamental human, Christian drama, in the music of Cantata 21, "My Spirit was in Heaviness." First, in the music of the organ and oboe, we will enter into the depths of despair and sorrow, its tones and phrasing giving expression to the sin which weighs so heavy and clings so closely, as the book of Hebrews puts it.

Then, in the plaint of the soprano soloist, we will cry out the sorrow of our soul. "Sighing, weeping, sorrow, need. Sighing, weeping, anxious longing, fear of death. I am torn by grief and pain," she will sing, and we will know that all our tears and grief are carried to the heart of God, all our sorrow and fear, all our sin and shortcomings, our every failure and hurt.

You will hear falling pairs of notes, "sighing motives," Tom says they're called, repeating, falling, again and again, the theme song of our sorrow. "My spirit was in heaviness and deep affliction."

The intervening portions of the cantata move us into the assurance of God's abiding presence with us through Jesus Christ, the promise of the vanquishing of all sorrow, and the trans-formation of weeping into shouts of joy. All building to the triumphant conclusion that we will hear from our choir, an exuberant chorus of praise to the Lamb, worthy of might and riches and wisdom and power and honor and praise. All praise summed up in the final shout of Alleluia!

The best way to hear Bach's cantatas is in a liturgical context, such as ours this morning. For Bach, the writing of this music was not about employment, though his pay did put bread on the table for his wife and their thirteen children. It was not about composing solely because he was very gifted in doing so. It was not a means of creating opportunities to perform, though he still stands as one of the greatest organists of all time.

No, Bach composed and played this music to fulfill his calling as one who had come to know his radical need of the saving love of God through Christ and Christ's church, one in constant need of God's grace. And I share with you this morning, with Tom's permission, that at the heart of Tom's incredible playing, his gift to us and to the world, is not virtuosity or dedication or intellect alone, though all exist in extra-abundance in him. But centrally, it is his knowledge of his utter dependence on God through Christ and Christ's church for salvation that give his music its power and life. It was Tom who chose as the theme of today's service "Soli Deo Gloria," for that is truly the theme and fundamental truth of his life, as well as of his music, just as it was for Bach. To God alone be the glory.

We arrive today at the last Sunday in Eastertide, this long season in which the reality of the Risen Christ has continued to transform our lives and shape us into the new creation God intends. The One who suffered and died, the One who lay in the dark tomb, the One who descended into hell to redeem even the powers of darkness, is the One who has been raised up and lives forevermore. And now, as Christ ascends on high to reign with God forever and ever, our hearts cry out as one: worthy is the Lamb to all fame and honor and praise and great might.

May his abiding presence and comfort ground us in faith and trust. May his love remake us into people of assurance and unwavering hope. May his redeeming power raise us to new life with him. And may his joy dwell in our hearts forever. Alleluia. Amen.

(c) Patricia E. Farris, 2001. Permission is given for brief quotation with attribution. All other rights reserved.