The Passions According the Sons, Good and Wicked

When I think about the passion story, it's hard for me not to think about it the way Bach taught me to. The correct version is from the Gospel of Matthew; more than that, it's in Martin Luther's German. In some ways, it seems strange for me to hear certain phrases in any language other than German, such as Peter's denial "Ich kenne des Mensche nicht" or Jesus's cry "Mein Gott, mein Gott! warum hast du mich verlassen?" A large part of this is because I'm not Christian, so I didn't grow up with religious connection to the story. To the extent that I have any involvement in the story, it's as the villain (at least in the versions according to Matthew and John). Yet, I find it had not to be moved by the story as Bach tells it. For added measure, it's interesting to compare so compelling a version of the story to a particularly poor telling (in this case the snuff film directed by Mel Gibson).

If you've ever been to a Passover seder, you've heard about the four sons. The story goes, four times the Torah instructs us to tell our children the Passover story. The rabbis devised the four different sons who ask about the story in different ways. The good son asks what is all this that we do. The wicked son asks what is all this that you do. The wicked son is wicked, the story goes, because he excludes himself from the story. The good son, on the other hand, chooses to participate.

I was thinking about this on Sunday, as I was listening to the Handel and Haydn society perform Bach's Matthew's Passion. There's a lot of theology in the music. One famous moment comes when Jesus says to the disciples, "I say to you that one of you will betray me." They respond, "Lord, is it I?" Eleven times, once for each of the disciples, excluding Judas. In a couple of verses, Judas will ask the same question, and Jesus will respond, "Du sagest" -- "You say so."

However, that isn't how Bach plays it. Bach and Picander insert a chorale. These chorales (think of a hymn) are the voice of the congregation. What do they sing at this moment?

It is I that must atone,
Hand and foot
Bound in hell.
The scourges and bonds,
And your suffering
Has redemmed my soul.

Another type of commentary that is interspersed with the gospel text are meditative arias. The most beautiful of these is "Erbarme dich, mein Gott!" -- Have mercy, my God! (It's not just me saying that. The Grout-Palisca History of Western Music mentions it among the five beautiful passages that may be singled out for special mention.) This aria that is so powerful is immediately after the story of Peter's three-fold denial. It's one thing for Judas to betray Jesus; however, Peter, the rock on which the church is founded, turns his back on his lord as well. Bach chooses to emphasize this moment, just as highlighted the individual's role in that chorale.

Not that Bach lets the Jews off the hook. The choruses that represent the Jews -- "Barabbas!," "Let him be crucified!" and and "Let his blood be on us and our children" -- are plenty zealous and blood-thirsty.

Fundamentally, however, the stance of Bach's passion is that ultimately, Jesus died for all people and all people have individual involvement. The penultimate chorus sums it up well:

Now is the Lord brought to rest
My Jesus, good night.
His toil is over,
Caused by our sins.
My Jesus, good night.
O blessed limbs,
See, how I mourn with penitence
and sorrow,
That my fall should bring you
To such need!
My Jesus, good night.
While life lasts,
For your sufferings a thousand thanks,
Since you have brought me to salvation.
My Jesus, good night.

So Bach and Picander encourage you to be the good child, and ask, "What happened when I betrayed Jesus by sinning, making his death and resurrection necessary?" Mel Gibson's snuff film pushes you to be the wickied child and ask, "What happened when the Jews and the Romans tortured and killed Jesus?" It puts all the blame on others, and in doing so, manages to remove the spirituality from one of the central moments of Christian history. It has no point or purpose; it's just violence.

Of course, he isn't my Jesus. After all, I'm Jewish. So what does it matter what I think?

But shouldn't my thoughts matter most of all? After all, as a neutral observer, I don't bring anything into the experience. If I can be moved, it's absolutely clear who is responsible. Gibson doesn't even try to go after the neutral crowd. He gives barely any hint of who Jesus was and why his death matters to anyone, let alone me. If you want to be moved, you need to do all the work yourself. That's great if you're already Christian, and can get excited about two hours of excruciating violence (and if you don't like Jews, all the better!), but it doesn't actually try to move anyone.