Justin Appel

Dear Friends in Christ,

The following passage from the book of Job is a responsory at the Office of the Dead. It is a poignant text, and in the hands of the Iberian composer Cristóbal de Morales (c. 1500-1553), it takes on a placid, languorous, pathetic quality. As such it serves as an ideal place for a modern take on the Passion story.

Not only do we feel some kinship with Job, who suffered extraordinarily, but we feel a sense that his dirge sums up something fundamental about the human condition: that we all struggle with the realities of sin and death, that we feel overwhelmed by them, and we too may ask “why?”

Ēriks Ešenvalds starts with this haunting piece of Iberian music in his cantata Passion and Resurrection, which unfolds the theme of human suffering (with the woman who anoints Jesus’ feet) and concludes with Mary Magdalene’s recognition of Jesus at the tomb. The Parci mihi is sung by a quartet of singers in the distance, giving the music a sense of dispassion, reminding us that although Jesus suffered and experienced human frailty, he also ultimately conquered death and sin through his own death and resurrection. This music seems to reflect both the pain and suffering endured by Jesus in his humanity, while also exuding his divinity—remaining unperturbed, trusting in his Father. This simultaneous existence of two natures is a mystery, and one which music helps to illuminate.

Yours in Christ,

—Justin

Parce mihi Domine, Cristóbal de Morales  (https://youtu.be/R3hlhPFc4sw)

Let me alone; for my days are vanity.
What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?
And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment?
How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?
I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am a burden to myself?
And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away my iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

—Job 7:16-21