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April 2008

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The Musical Heritage
of the Church,
Volumes 1-7
 
 
 

The Musical Heritage of the Church
Volume IV

The Editorial Practice of Georg Rhaw
Leo Schrade

The first contact Georg Rhaw made with the Reformation seems to have come on the occasion of the famous disputation between Johann Eck and Martin Luther, which took place in Leipzig in 1519. It was then that Rhaw, in his capacity as cantor of St. Thomas, is recorded to have composed a Missa de Sancto Spiritu for an extraordinary combination of twelve voices, and a Te Deum. At the same time he filled the post of an instructor, or, as the official title goes, as “assessor” at the university of Leipzig. At the age of thirty, a year before the disputation, he went to Leipzig to take the position after a fairly extensive study at the universities of Erfurt and Wittenberg. His participation in the dispute, though apparently of a musical nature only, was none too healthy for his material welfare. One year after the disputation, on the basis of his adherence to the Reformers, he was forced to resign from his Leipzig positions. A learned man and close to the humanistic circles that were in part identical with those of the Reformers, he for a while made a scant living as a teacher in the schools of Eisleben. In the capacity of a teacher he came to Wittenberg in 1524, and a year thereafter began his work as a printer, which he continued until his death in 1548. He died at the age of sixty. Such, in brief, was the life of a man who not only enjoyed the closest friendship with Luther and Melanchthon, who not only rose to fame as the official printer of Wittenberg, the “typographus Wittembergensis,” but who also has the noble distinction of being the greatest, the most gifted music printer the Lutheran Church has had throughout its existence.

Without the musical work of Georg Rhaw it is difficult to imagine that Protestant music in the age of the Reformation would and could have reached those standards that are in fact its renown in history. I do not mean that his merits lay in an unrivaled craftsmanship as a printer. In that respect Rhaw has been surpassed many a time, but his musical printings can hold their own even from the point of view of skill and craft. I stress here his genius as an organizer, one who through his profound ideas made his publications serve the purposes of the renewal of Christian doctrine, and who, moreover, made music a reality in the services of the Church. Strangely enough, his contribution as a composer has been rather negligible. As a matter of fact, we have no certainty about his composition. The festival mass which has been recorded has not been preserved. When in 1908 the historian Johannes Wolf re-edited the famous publication of Rhaw, the Newe Deudsche Geistliche Gesenge of 1544, without any explanation he simply assured the student of Protestant church music that all anonymous compositions contained in that collection are probably all by Rhaw himself. Of this we are no longer so sure; and a critical investigation shows that these anonymous works are most certainly by more than one composer. But it is unnecessary here to enter a discussion of musical style in order to cast some light upon Rhaw as a musician. Whatever his merits as a composer may have been, they could not possibly have brought about those outstanding results for which he was responsible as a leading figure in the musical activities in Wittenberg.

Georg Rhaw distinguished himself also as a theorist of music. Judged from the response his activities in theory met in the professional world, his reputation seems to have been better established in theory than in composition. In the same year when he came to Leipzig he published a treatise under the title Enchiridion musices, which soon was followed by an Enchiridion utriusque musicae practice, published in Leipzig in 1520. One of these treatises deals largely with problems of musica plana, that is, the chant; the other with those of musica figuralis, that is, polyphony. And both these small works had an unbelievable success. They were republished again and again till after the middle of the century. Both were little handbooks, introductions into the problems of music, addressed to students. Although they were very learned in the sense that Rhaw evidenced a thorough acquaintance with theoretical literature, they were by no means original. On the contrary, Rhaw set out to give merely brief summaries compiled from more comprehensive works and more prominent theorists. Despite the almost total lack of originality, Rhaw scored a startling success, although in later years it was his own printing office that took over the publication. The reason for this remarkable success rests upon one of the chief characteristics of Georg Rhaw: his educational talents. Thus this trait leads us into the midst of those editorial matters which we desire to discuss.

To indicate in advance the point of view that shall be taken, our discussion will center in two specific problems. One of them involves the Lutheran view of music as revealed in the editorial prefaces to Rhaw’s musical publications; the other concerns the relation of Rhaw’s editions of music to the Lutheran liturgy. In both problems there seems to be inherent that educational purpose to which Rhaw devoted his lifework. For many years Rhaw had been active as the printer of the Wittenberg Reformers. Then he turned his interest to music. He first published a revised edition of his own treatise and characteristically dedicated this work to no less a man than Johann Bugenhagen, next to Melanchthon the most influential figure in the reform of education in the schools according to the principles of the “new” doctrine. But again a great many years passed by until Rhaw’s printing office brought out the first edition of music. So far as we know, this was done in 1538. The anthology was presented as Selectae Harmoniae quatuor vocum. De Passione Domini. Besides the passion by Johannes Galliculus it contained motets. In the tenor we find the preface: “Philippus Melanchthon Christiano Lectori Salutem D.” In the same year, an equally important anthology appeared. It was named Symphoniae Iucundae atque adeo breves, quatuor vocum, ab optimis quibusque musicis compositae ac juxta ordinem Tonorum dispositae, quas vulgo mutetas appelare solemus. Rhaw published this collection of fifty-two motets “cum praefatione D. Martini Lutheris.” The publications now followed each other in quick and regular succession. The Officia Paschalia De Resurrectione et Ascensione Domini came out in 1539 with the dedication written by Rhaw. Of outstanding importance was the next anthology, Vesperarum precum Officia Psalmi Feriarum et Dominicalium Dierum Totius Anni, cum antiphonis, Hymnis, et Responsoriis, composed for four voices by the best and most famous musicians. Rhaw himself wrote the preface to this liturgically important work. A publication, not less but differently significant, came out in the following year, 1541, as Opus decem Missarum, for four voices, collected by Rhaw “to the benefit of the schools and all students of music.” 1542 stands out with two anthologies, both of which attract our interest from the point of view of liturgy and of education. The first is the huge collection of hymns, the Sacrorum Hymnorum Liber Primus, which contains 134 hymns, chosen from the best musical authorities, among whom the edition presents as first artists, as “primi artifices,” Thomas Stoltzer, Henricus Finck, Arnoldus de Bruck. Also the preface to this publication was Rhaw’s own. The second collection, of an entirely different kind, comprises three-part vocal compositions, so-called Tricinia; and such is also the title of the publication with Latin, German, Flemish, and French works of composers young and old. Two years passed by until Rhaw came forward with new editions. But 1544 is a particularly prominent year in Protestant church music, since it brought Rhaw’s Postremum Vespertini Officii Opus, including the Magnificat in all eight modes. The original print shows on the title page woodcuts of Luther, Johann Friedrich, Prince Elector of Saxony, and Melanchthon, and also a portrait of Rhaw himself. The Newe Deudsche Geistliche Gesenge, which Rhaw published in the same year, has already been mentioned. In it Rhaw included 123 compositions for four and five voices, edited “für die gemeinen Schulen,” as Rhaw did not fail to emphasize. While of the works that appeared in 1545 two volumes of Bicinia, containing French, Latin, and German compositions of the most renowned musicians, served more directly an educational purpose, one publication was dedicated to the needs of the Lutheran liturgy: the Officiorum (ut vocant) de Nativitate, Circumcisione, Epiphania Domini, et Purificatione, Tomus primus. The importance of this publication is further stressed by the distinguished preface of Philip Melanchthon. These are the most essential collections Rhaw has edited in the service of the Lutheran Church. There are still others dedicated to the musical work of an individual composer, such as Sixt Dietrich, whom Rhaw gave the singular distinction of publishing his volume of thirty-six antiphons and the huge hymn collection as well, the Novum opus musicum tres tomos sacrorum Hymnorum (1541, 1545). That in this age of humanism and renaissance the individuality of the artist was glorified in such a manner, is fully in harmony with the cultural climate of the time. And that Rhaw, himself a man of humanistic thought, was fully aware of this type of individualism, is shown by the stress he placed upon the aspects of fame in his publications. But Rhaw followed still another guide even as to works of individual composers. Liturgical considerations were foremost in his mind when he fixed the order of the selections he made, and he also gave much thought to the size and character of the contribution the individual composer made toward building up the musical liturgy of the Church. His editing of Dietrich’s hymns will clearly show that the liturgical consideration prevailed over any other aspect, including that of the musician’s fame.—Although a simple listing of publications such as we have examined is surely far from being exciting, it has been indispensable for building the factual background that we need for our discussion of the two specific problems which we have singled out. Not that the list as such carries any significance, but the ideas behind it are important.

We shall pay our attention first to the prefaces of Rhaw’s editions. They represent documents of the highest standards with regard to musical, liturgical, and theological conceptions. By comparison, Rhaw’s prefaces stand out far above the contemporary output of his competitors in the printing of music. Their extraordinary quality does not in fact, surprise us, since Luther and Melanchthon wrote some of them. But also the prefaces by Rhaw himself compare very well with those of the great reformers. He has a Latin style all his own, which at the same time, however, betrays the humanistic training of the man. On the basis of style, we assume that the noteworthy preface to Dietrich’s hymns was actually written by Rhaw. Although these prefaces taken together represent a historical source of unusual importance in order to interpret the view of music the reformers maintained for the young Protestant Church, they are very little known.—It is characteristic of Rhaw’s theological approach to music that he succeeded in securing the aid of Luther and Melanchthon to authorize the music that he published. These prefaces were to be nothing less than a medium for expressing the theological idea with which the Lutheran Church would justify the existence of music. Hence, both Luther, with a profounder and more artistic insight, and Melanchthon, with a stricter theological argument, clarified first of all the religious implications they would hold up for the music of the Ecclesia Christiana. For both knew as clearly as did Rhaw that the music they all prefaced had much in common with that of the “old” Church, not only with regard to style and category of composition, but also in relation to the accepted composers, some of whom had worked exclusively for the “old” Church, others simultaneously for the two churches, “old” and “new.” In matters of an external nature, such as the stylistic phenomenon of composition, it was entirely possible and theologically justifiable to take the stand of indifference, and indeed, Melanchthon, especially in the forties, was more and more inclined to look upon ceremonies, rites, including the external factors of the musical style, as “res indifferentes,” as “ta adiáphora,” things that do not matter essentially. All the more important was it to take an absolutely clear and uncompromising stand with regard to the essentials, and insofar as our problem is concerned, with regard to the spirit of music. All three, therefore, Luther, Melanchthon, and Rhaw, start from the very beginning; they define, in the first place, the divine origin of music. Thus in his preface to the Symphoniae jucundae Luther declared that music is a “donum divinum,” and that music, as part of the Lord’s creation, existed from the beginning of the world: “Musica ab initio mundi indita.” Melanchthon has the very same definition of the divine origin of music: Musicae initia humano generi divinitus insita; and Rhaw repeats this idea in the same words, “divinitus humano generi data.” This idea, however, is not new. In announcing the doctrine of the divine origin of music, the Lutherans would not have differed in any way from the representatives of the older Church, not even from the philosophers of the ancient world, whence, in fact, this doctrine had come. It was in the pursuit of the argument concerning the nature of music that the difference between old and new was gradually worked out. The next step all three, Luther, Melanchthon, Rhaw, took in that argument concerned the purpose of music. The step was a logical one to take. For if the origin is divine, the purpose must be established accordingly. Melanchthon distinguished between the beginnings of music and music as a creation, “initia Musicae . . . et postea ars,” the work of human beings. Hence what man should do with this boon of Heaven is derived from the purpose. All three authors of the prefaces agree that the end of music is the glorification of God. Now, this, too, is an idea that had been maintained, as the end of music, since early Christian times, and nothing specifically Lutheran can be found in it. Rhaw launched into a discussion of the natural qualities of music. The divine origin regards these qualities to be reflective of divinity. Especially the immense, ethical power, which music holds, speaks of its divine nature: “Incredibilis vis, occulta quaedam ac plane divina vis, manifesta atque admirabilis vis.” Up to this point, the ideas are rooted in tradition, and there is no Protestantism in them, save perhaps a new intensity in the stress placed upon the religious essence of music. With the third logical step in the argument, the old and the new begin definitely to part company. For while establishing the “Glorificatio Dei” as the traditional end of all music, the three authors add immediately a purpose that we do not find in the school of traditional thought. The additional purpose is that music serves the propagation of the Lord’s Word. Tone and word, music and speech are naturally united, and it is God’s Word that took music to be its medium. “There is nothing closer to the Word of God than music,” said Luther in the preface to the Symphoniae jucundae: “verbo dei nihil voluerunt conjunctius quam musicam.” And in order not to leave any doubt as to the implications of this idea, he added that speech is as a matter of nature coupled with the voice: “Sermo voci copularus donatus est.” Therefore, we must praise the Lord “verbo et musica,” and this means “sonora praedicarione et mixtis verbis suavi melodiae.” The Lord must be praised “by the resounding sermon and through the words allied to the suave melody. Thus music becomes the medium for the propagation of the Evangelical message. Exactly this is meant when Melanchthon in his preface to Rhaw’s Officia de Nativitate stated, that in suave and truly musical compositions (suavibus et vere Musicis cantilenibus) the words of the Prophets and Apostles are included (dicta Prophetica et Apostolica). To Melanchton, therefore, music is directly instrumental in man’s apprehension of God and his appreciation of the facts of Christian faith. Music is an instrument with which to preach the Christian doctrine, the Gospel; the end of music is to bring this doctrine to sound in the world: “sonare hanc in mundo doctrinam.” The “Cultus Dei” is the preaching of the Gospel, and man’s “Officium” is to propagate the doctrine again and again in speech and song.

Melanchthon sets forth three phases for the approach of the Dicta Prophetica et Apostolica: lectio, recitatio, and cantus. In passing through these phases, man will recognize Christ, the “Logos et imago aeterni Pattris,” the one and only intermediary between God and man. Reading and singing is the human “officium”: “cantu, cantionibus, oboedientia in omni officio celebremus.” Together with this thought of an inseparable unity between the Word of God and music, Melanchton went even so far as to say that where and whenever singing or religious music ceases, it is to be feared that the holy doctrine will die. The singer, the musician, is, in fact, the preacher of the Gospel.

While Melanchthon presented this thought in form of a strictly theological argument, Rhaw added historical considerations. He accepted as a matter of fact the assumption that the Word of God, that is, the Gospel, and music are indissolubly united with one another: “verbum divinum Musicis numeris et modis inclusum.” This unity is God’s creation. And then he speaks in historical terms. The Prophets and the holy fathers have formulated their faith in Psalms and “sacrae cantiones,” through which subsequently faith has been advanced from one generation to another. Since it was the will of the Lord to have the Word allied to music, men in the course of time have expressed the doctrine of faith anew in the musical form of “Carmina,” sacred compositions. Thus came to life the vast treasure of sacred music from Biblical times down to the epoch of the Sancta Ecclesia Christiana Vitebergensis. Therefore, the “doctrina a Christo et Apostolis” has been continually, revealed through “sacrae cantiones” and hymns. It is, indeed, in connection with his publication of hymns that Rhaw gave this explanation. Not only that he in general terms, as it were, voiced his specifically Protestant view, the view of the Sancta Ecclesia Christiana Vitebergenis, he also defended in particular the special collection of hymns he presented for Protestant use. There are hymns, he records, that were composed in praise and commemoration of the martyrs of the early Christian Church. Since the martyrs stand up as models of true piety, the hymns dedicated to them and included in the collection should be regarded as acceptable after a purification from certain obvious errors. This purification is in harmony with Rhaw’s attitude as a Protestant. But he also declared that in view of the inclusion of such hymns only those of evil intentions will blame him for it as if he had adhered to the old errors; for the Wittenberg theologians had condemned the “invocationes Sanctorum atque alios Idolatricos cultus.” Some purifications were obviously carried out. To cite an example from Sixt Dietrich. He omitted the first stanza of the hymn Ut queant laxis because “it seemed to be discordant with the true Christian doctrine.” Instead, he took the second stanza “Nuntius celso veniens.” Rhaw must have been attacked by rigid theologians; else he hardly would have felt it necessary to make the solemn declaration included in his publication of 1542: “We herewith testify by this our writing that together with all pious men we condemn all dogmas that deviate from the Scriptures of the Prophets and Apostles.” Rhaw’s policy is altogether in harmony with Luther’s and Melanchton’s. He included hymns expressly for the beneficient effect they may have on youth, and cited St. Paul: “Omnia munda mundis.” (Unto the pure all things are pure.) Theologically speaking, Rhaw took exactly the same stand as Melanchthon, who looked upon such matters as “adiáphora,” as indifferent, non-essential.

As brief as this report necessarily had to be, it should have given evidence of the unusual importance that it is due to the prefaces of Rhaw’s publications. Here, for the first time, in connection with particular works dedicated to the services of the young Church, a specifically Protestant view of sacred music has been presented to the public. Here, for the first time, cycles of compositions that have a definite place in the new services, were interpreted as essentially Protestant. The interpretation possessed the character of official authority, since it had direct connection with the music of the liturgy. Such an interpretation, however, was a distinct necessity. For only an absolutely clear definition of the spirit of the music would allow separating the Protestant from the Catholic view. Apart from assigning the individual compositions to certain liturgical functions, the music itself would not permit us to draw sharp lines. A large group of composers whose work was incorporated in the Protestant liturgy belonged to the “old” Church, as we all know. Obrecht, Josquin, Brumel, Isaac, Pierre de la Rue, Fevin, Erasmus Lapicida, Mouton, Richafort, Verdelot, Thomas Stoltzer, and numerous others ranked high in the collections of Rhaw. It is true that Luther himself with his deep musical understanding declared the Netherlands polyphony without differentiation of style to be the accepted form of art in the young Church. His personal fondness for that music is so well known that we need not make any particular mention of it. But in modern times many of those in search after a specifically Protestant music of the age of the Reformation are rather disturbed by this fact and act as if Luther’s declaration was the result of embarrassment felt because no other music was available. That assumption is totally wrong from every point of view: historical, theological, and musical. The reason why the liturgical collections of Rhaw were provided with such prominent prefaces is derived from the will to reveal what is distinctive in Protestantism in view of the traditional material. This procedure was by no means a matter of embarrassment; on the contrary, it was as much a theological justification as in any other case where matters of the Gospel were involved. To deny the theological character implies, I believe, a denial of the fundamental factors of Lutheranism altogether.

We maintain that the prefaces of Rhaw most clearly reveal that there is undeniably something of a specifically Protestant view of music. It rests upon the inseparable unity between Verbum Dei and Musica. Since man must preach the word of God, he also must avail himself of the medium of music to propagate the message of the Gospel. In other words: the use of music is not a voluntary matter nor one of a purely decorative nature, it is based upon the same indispensable necessity as the preaching of the Gospel through the spoken word. That again presents itself as a theological justification and bears directly upon our second problem: the liturgy, which Rhaw made the basis of his publications. Since the Lutherans attributed to the use of music a theological necessity, there was the obligation to provide the music for the services of the Church. Rhaw made the fulfillment of this obligation the task of his activity as the Protestant printer. He followed the liturgical principles that the Reformers had established. Although it often has been recognized that Rhaw proceeded in his publication in full harmony with the liturgical ideas of Luther himself, the argument has been carried in the wrong direction. In the list of Rhaw’s works we have mentioned the collection of ten masses, the Opus decem Missarum, which was published in 1541. In view of the fact that among his numerous musical publications he brought out only one collection of masses, authors of modern historical literature have taken this apparent neglect to be the most convincing sign of the general decline of the old mass in Luther’s liturgy. Very handsome theories have been advanced as to Luther’s conceptions of the polyphonic mass. Since many publications of Rhaw had the title of Officia, it was assumed that by that title Rhaw actually meant the ecclesiastical hours, or those of the hours, Matins, Vespers, and Compline, that the Protestant Church retained. Since there were on the one hand numerous compositions of the so-called Officium, and on the other, very few mass compositions, the supposed neglect was fortified by all sorts of statements Luther, in the course of time, had made about the mass. Attractive though these theories are, they are sheer imagination. Their authors gave unmistakable evidence that they knew the titles of Rhaw’s collections, but not their content. For Rhaw used the term Officium not always in the strictly liturgical connotation of the ecclesiastical hours, but with the freer, more general implication which Melanchthon established for the Officium, that is, any liturgical service man owes God is an Officium. Moreover, it was not an uncommon practice during the sixteenth century to name also the music of the mass an Officium. This is exactly the case in Rhaw’s publications. His Officia Paschalia, de Resurrectione, et Ascensione Domini, of 1539, and the Officia de Nativitate, Circumcisione, Epiphania, Purificatione, of 1545 contain actually masses, that is Lutheran masses. With these collections Rhaw, as we shall see, gave the answer to the urgent needs that the new liturgy made manifest. The Opus decem Missarum fits least of all into the liturgical efforts of Rhaw, and it may be strongly doubted that he intended them at all for liturgical use at Wittenberg. It is true, the masses were by composers whom not only Rhaw but all the Reformers regarded as their favorites: Brumel, Isaac, Pipelare, Senfl, and Rhaw’s special favorite, the Protestant composer Adam Rener of Liége. The majority of these masses, however, are based on profane song tenores, and it is hardly imaginable that Rhaw made his selection from the point of view of the Lutheran liturgy, since the Reformers had clearly objected to religious compositions with profane tenores. Nevertheless, Rhaw wanted also this collection to serve Protestant purposes. Thereby another side of his editorial activity made itself felt. In view of the fact that the artistic music which the Lutheran Church accepted for its liturgy was in the style of Netherlandic polyphony, the need for adequate training of singers and musicians was as great as the need for the music itself. In other words, Rhaw, and all the Reformers as well, realized that the school was as important for the new doctrine as the church. To make musical training possible Rhaw as musical editor had to provide the material for the school. The material could be chosen for purely artistic reasons as long as the form and style of composition were identical with those of the works that the liturgy needed. Hence, Rhaw published some collections specifically dedicated to school use for the sake of improving the musical training of the young students. The unfailing educational instinct and genius of Rhaw had made him recognize that those schools were of greatest importance, for there, in these grade schools, or Trivialschulen, as they were called, the foundations were laid. Hence, Rhaw dedicated some of his publications to the students of such schools. The masses of 1541, as well as the collections of Tricinia and Bicinia with a repertory of secular and sacred compositions, were published in order to have the student get his musical training from the best that Europe had to offer. Thus the anthologies represent a fairly good cross section; they are as international as the Netherlandic music was at that time.

Also with respect to his religious collections, Rhaw never lost sight of the educational intentions and often addressed the student directly. Primarily, however, the religious music serves to materialize the liturgical pattern in the Church. Thus Rhaw began his grand work of providing music for all the services needed in the Lutheran liturgy. He singled out first a season of the church year that was particularly close to the minds of the Reformers and fundamental to the doctrine, the Passion. The life of Christ is, of course, the central factor in organizing the church year. That the liturgical work opens with the Passion may have some theological implications. As to these, we have, however, no certainty. At all events, the earliest collection of 1538 contains, next to the music for the Passion, motets liturgically appropriate to the season. With the second publication, Rhaw really unfolds his plan for the first time. I mean to say that we now can observe that a plan for a large liturgical enterprise exists. And for the first time the material Rhaw collected is comprehensive from a liturgical point of view. The collection contains fifty-two motets for the Sundays of the year. It is only one step that he takes, but the direction in which he will proceed is obvious. On the one hand the church year as a whole, on the other, the individual service will be the principles of the liturgical order on which Rhaw bases the edition of his music. Hence the various liturgies connected with the phases of Christ’s life and commemorated in the various feasts of the year were first to be built up, and Rhaw systematically collected the music for these liturgies. If Rhaw had worked merely in harmony with tradition, that is, with the traditional structure of the church year, he certainly would have begun at the beginning of Christ’s life, with Advent. Instead, once again he anticipated the liturgies of the Easter season and set first the Officia Paschalia, de Resurrectione et Ascensione Domini. Apparently the completion of the cycles demanded great effort, which took time and energy. For several years passed before Rhaw was able to provide the necessary music for the liturgies of the Nativity, the Circumcision, Epiphany, and the Feast of Purification. As mentioned before, these liturgies were again called Officia. Both collections belong together; they supplement each other in that they complete the feasts of Christ. Both collections also are systematically organized in accordance with the music needed for the main service, the Hauptgottesdienst, on all the feasts. Therefore these Officia are, in fact, collections of mass compositions. They are the best and most complete editions of music for the Protestant mass that we have. It is profoundly regrettable that this most outstanding document of Protestant liturgical music has not yet been made accessible. Such regret is not linked to reasons of purely historical interest; the reasons are liturgical and theological. Instead, we have Rhaw’s Deutsche Gesänge in a modern edition, which naturally contributed a welcome addition to our knowledge of early Lutheran music. But the Deutsche Gesänge represents only a small fraction of the total liturgical task that Rhaw set himself to accomplish. I venture to say that they are not the cornerstone in the grand building of Protestant liturgy Rhaw erected with the aid of Luther and Melanchthon. Judged by what these men thought, the Officia are undoubtedly more important from a liturgical point of view. The striking arrangement of the collection, indicative of Rhaw’s liturgical thinking, is indeed instructive in every respect. All the musical composition for a complete main service of the feast is given in the order of the liturgy. We may follow the Easter mass. We have the Introit with Verse, to be followed by the Kyrie. The Gloria is abbreviated according to Lutheran principles. The next composition is the Alleluja with the Psalm verse; then comes, in three structural sections, the Easter Prosa Agnus redemit oves. The composition of the Gospel with salutation comes next. The Credo is to be sung by the congregation in German, and is therefore omitted. The congregation takes part further in singing choraliter the Easter sequence Christ ist erstanden. Again according to Lutheran principles, the Offertory is omitted. Hence the next composition is the Sanctus with Benedictus; Agnus and Communio complete the musical liturgy of the mass. An interesting use of the geistliches Lied in the vernacular together with the Latin text but incorporated because of liturgical considerations of the character of the Easter feast can be observed in Prosa and Agnus. The first section of the Prosa has in three voices the Latin text Agnes redemit oves, while the tenor sings the cantus firmus Christ ist erstanden von der Marter alle; in the second section three upper voices have the Latin Dic nobis, Maria, and the bass sings three times Christ ist erstanden as the melody begins. The third section brings the Latin Credendum est magis in all parts. And as though the hymn Christ ist erstanden were a superior and unifying idea, it makes its appearance in the Agnus again, whose text is: Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis. Des sollen wir alle froh sein. Christ soll unser Trost sein. Kyrie eleison.”

Immediately after the first Officia for the main service, Rhaw began work on the musical liturgies of the second individual service, the Vespers. The first part appears as Vesperarum precum officia in 1540. The concentration on a liturgical order manifested itself once more. For here, too, the musical compositions follow the order of the service; they are not separated, as artistic categories, from the service of the day. Thus we have almost regularly for the Vesperae feriales: an introductory antiphonal initial to five Psalms which are set in strictly liturgical faux-bourdon, on the Psalm tone, and written in the notation of the chant, for four voices; then a responsory with the Psalm verse; finally, one or more hymns, Versiculum, Magnificat with the antiphon. Such is the arrangement throughout. The work for the Vespers was continued, with the antiphons by Sixt Dietrich, with the collection of 134 hymns of various composers, with eighty responsories of Balthasar Resinarius, and finally with the Magnificat collection, the Postremum Vespertini officii opus (1544), in the preface of which Rhaw, stricken by severe illness for years and anticipating his death, expresses his particular joy over having at least completed the work for the Vespers. He lived long enough to add the second collection of Officia. But with regard to all the services of the Lutheran Church and to the totality of the church year, even Rhaw’s work remained a torso; a grand torso, to be sure, in fact, the most impressive one that we have from the sixteenth century, and one that, strangely enough, can be completed at any time. Unfortunately, no one has ever taken up the ideas of Rhaw. In the sixteenth century he had no successor, and soon thereafter he, his work, and his principles were altogether forgotten. Liturgically it was not to the good of Protestant church music that this happened. Rhaw knew that those who set themselves the task of establishing a musical liturgy, had to shoulder the first responsibility toward the liturgy. He knew that artistic and aesthetic thought came second. He himself suppressed his judgment as artist, or at least subordinated it to his thinking in terms of the liturgy. In one of the Vespers collections he frankly admitted that as an artist he wished to present compositions of greater artistic elaborateness; but he did not give in.

The editorial practice of Rhaw contains many a stimulating lesson. Editing music for purely artistic reasons or historical interests differs widely from that of religious music for liturgical purposes. The editing of isolated compositions is now usually carried out more often in obedience to aesthetic considerations, and less, if at all, according to proper liturgical order with the needs of the individual services in mind. I believe that the principles of Rhaw essentially unaltered stand up even today as a true guide for any editor of religious music for liturgical purposes.

Editor’s Note[1954]: A collection of the musical works published by Georg Rhaw is being issued under the general editorship of Hans Albrecht by the Baerenreiter Verlag and Concordia Publishing House. A twelve-volume edition is contemplated. For complete details address the Department of Music of Concordia Publishing House.

From The Musical Heritage of the Church, Volume IV (St. Louis, Mo.: Concordia Publishing House, 1954). Copyright Concordia Publishing House. Printed by permission. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of Concordia Publishing House.

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