Saturday, November 30, 2013

Cantata No. 175 - and the woman behind it all.

Christiane Mariane von Ziegler, librettist

Born June 28, 1695 in Leipzig, Germany, Christiane Mariane von Ziegler grew up the wealthy daughter of a mayor, but by no means did that ensure her an easy life.  At age 11, her father was imprisoned for 40 years until his death due to a political controversy, and by her early 20s, she had been widowed twice, with a deceased child from each marriage.  By age 27, however, she ran her family’s house and there provided a lively, cultured atmosphere for artists to socialize and share ideas.  These gatherings were warmed by her “chipper” personality and prominent sense of humor, and she was known as the life of the party wherever she went.  One frequent visitor was Johann Christoph Gottsched, an editor of a magazine directed towards women, and he encouraged her to publish her sacred and secular poetry.  In 1728, she released nine cantata texts, verses framed by biblical texts and chorale stanzas, with one of them becoming Bach’s Cantata No. 175.  In Leipzig, the Bach and Romanus families were very close, and the composer and librettist were probably well acquainted.  In addition to her many accomplishments, she was the first female member of Gottsched’s literary society and German poet laureate.  When not writing, Ziegler played keyboard instruments, flute, and lute while singing, spoke French effortlessly, and enjoyed shooting crossbows and pistols.  In 1741, she did marry again for the last time, and passed away in 1760 at the relatively late age of 65. 

For every Sunday during the church year (besides Lent), Johann Sebastian Bach’s position as cantor involved composing, rehearsing, and performing an approximately 20-minute cantata between the Gospel text and the sermon with a choir and small instrumental ensemble from the adjoining school.  Originally, this cantata was premiered on May 22, 1725, the Tuesday after Pentecost, which shares a Gospel reading with that of Easter 4 (John 10:1-10).  In order to evoke a pastoral scene to townsfolk sitting in St. Thomas’ Church, Bach brings in three recorders to play a simple, charming motif while the tenor sings “He calls His sheep by name, and leads them out” (John 10:3).  Then, the alto soloist sings a Ziegler original text, “Come, lead me!” which uses the same instrumentation.  With a 12/8 pastorale-style meter, recorders emulating shepherd’s pipes, and a “wandering” motif reminiscent of a lost sheep, Bach paints the listeners into the countryside, a place of potential rest but also lurking danger.  Chromatic twists and wrenches depict the utter perdition of the sinner apart from Christ’s justification, and musical “sighs” demonstrate the believer’s fervent hunger for guidance.  “Where shall I find You?” the tenor begs next in an unsettled, zig-zagging recitative, answering his own question in the successive aria, seeing the Lord entering in by the “right gates,” and responding to His “lovely voice.” The alto then reads John 10:6, “But they did not grasp what it was, that He had said to them,” and the bass comments that we, too, do the same when God’s truth confronts our blind reason.  In the end, surrounded by a scalloped-edging of strings, he exhorts the soul to mark Jesus’ words for its personal welfare.  Accompanied by trumpet fanfares, the adjoining aria by the same calls upon his ears to open for Christ, who promises blessings to those who bear the cross in faith.  The concluding chorale, to the melody of “Komm, Heiliger Geist, Herren Gott,” declares full confidence in God’s leading by grace through faith in the Word, the true star to light the journeying road. 


What message could and should Christians take away from this piece of art?  Primarily, they should be reminded of their deep need for forgiveness and Christ’s guidance through the perils of life under the cross.  Underneath, though, they should also be encouraged by the example of faith demonstrated by both Ziegler and Bach – though living under a heavy cross, Ziegler sought strength in the Gospel promises, and thus was able to write such lyrics with full confidence despite hardship.  Bach likewise knew his Bible extensively and understood precisely what musical elements he could incorporate to accentuate the message to even a casual appreciator.  Today, we thank God for their creative gifts, and from them draw inspiration to glorify Him with our own – even on the crooked passages and shadowed vales of earthly life.  
Garden in Leipzig, Germany

Saturday, November 23, 2013

Five points on a triple-word score...

These lists of little-known facts about friends are circulating.  I may as well write my own.

1. I can beat you at Scrabble.  Every time.

2. When I was two years old, I taught myself to read.

3. I have never flown on a plane.

4. Genetically, I am an odd case.  I can't roll my tongue, and am the only person in my family with hazel eyes.

5. I didn't learn organ or sing in a choir until I came to college.

Bonus fact:  my morning often looks like this.  :)
6. My stuffed Pirates dog is named Jackie, and my stuffed zebra generally goes by Mr. Zebra.  He has an aristocratic first name that I never can remember.

7. I automatically sing along to every Menards commercial.

8. Since I was 11, I have written in a journal every day before I go to bed.

9. I know almost all I Love Lucy trivia, and used to relate each show I saw to my aunt over the phone.

10. For my whole life, I have lived on the same street, even though my family has moved twice.

11. I used to want to be an English major, emphasis on writing, with a semantics minor.

12. I don't "like" anything on Facebook.  I comment instead.

13. All of my fingers are double-jointed, making it very tricky to play piano and organ!

14. You know I'm being myself when I can say intelligent and goofy things in alternation.

15. G-flat Major is my favorite musical key - I just never write in it for practical reasons (like my string-musician friends pelting bows at me).

Monday, November 18, 2013

My Jesus Is My Resting-Place

This is the first real hymn I wrote, nearly two years ago, in the middle of deep sadness.  Suddenly, the words playing around in my mind just streamed out onto the spare pages of my planner (again), and these eight verses assembled themselves in random fashion.  Next, I sketched out a melody above the words, and even missed dinner with my family!  Well, God's inspiration is a very honorable excuse.  
What the original looked like!

1.  My Jesus is my resting place
And will be mine forever;
My soul is held in His embrace,
His grace will leave me never.

2. Sometimes my heart is struck by sin
Which to despair may lure me,
But when there is no peace within
His promises assure me.

3. When every joy begins to fall
He leads me and He holds me;
His plans of hope reign over all,
In wisdom He enfolds me.

4. No problem, doubt, or hurt inside
Can take me from my Savior.
Whatever comes upon my life
Is Heaven's well-thought answer.

5. If friends may leave and shadows come
This faith won't leave me empty:
That God is near and victory's won
From all the fears that tempt me.

6. God, when my darkest hours are here
I know You will stand by me.
You've promised that You hold me dear
No matter what may try me.

7. My Lord, give me a quiet heart
Amid this raging sadness!
Grant me the comfort that a part
Is saved for me of gladness.

8. Praise Father, Spirit, Jesus Christ
For giving us this promise;
We firmly trust that faith will brave
These storms that come upon us.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

TGISN: Thank goodness it's Sunday night!

Just because I'm at the bench doesn't mean I get to rest...


6:30  Glance at cell phone.  Did I really wake up that early?  Oh well.  Let's try to get a little bit more sleep.

7:00  Alarm goes off.  Okay, that kind of worked.  Make lofted bed in dark without my purple/animal print pillows (or myself) falling off.

7:06  Look in fridge.  Leftover Cameron's hazelnut coffee from the brother will save some brew time.  Zap in microwave.

7:07  Fire up the Sinatra Sunday playlist!

7:09  Wash face, wrangle hair with purple flatiron, try on polka-dot dress.  Nope.  End of Trinity season - too loud.  Change into darker color.

7:15  This is NOT working.  Change again.

7:35  Should get going.  Oh wait, forgot the coffee. Head back.  Let's try this again.

7:45  Yay!  The door that's never unlocked gets unlocked.  The trombone parts, however, are wrong.  Which way do they transpose again?

8:00  Run through EVERYTHING.  Piano gets stick up. Yessss.

8:22  The rehearsal went that long?  Where's the coffee?

8:30  Early service!  It's Rite Three day - let's test our sightreading skills.  Not bad.  Nobody in the brass department falls off the wagon.

9:40  Service done.  Play through all the fun Christmas music while drinking Bible class coffee (still thinking about the words).  Ooooh.  Buxtehude cantata?

10:10  Found parts.  Print parts!  Printer gets jammed.  All parts print double.  Anitphonal "In dulci jubilo"?  Possibly.

10:20  Locate family of string musicians in hallway.  Distribute parts and utilize best persuasive knack to stay in town for Christmas morning.  It's working.

10:45  Quick, sort out parts!  Finish coffee.  Time for late service.

11:00 Fix piano lid without losing precious fingers.  Drive back in absolute ecstasy about Christmas repertoire.

11:27  Run, trying to sing fugues with oneself.  Not working.

12:09  Om nom.

1:10  Arrive at seminary, lay out all the Pieper stuff on table in an effort to look like homework is getting done.  Coffeepot still halfway full - score.

1:20  Get lost in discussion about Romans 13/two kingdoms/church-state separation/Spanish liturgical music/being a motorcycle-riding old lady with a friend.  :)

2:26  Zoom off to a choir concert at the church across from my church, only to be kidnapped in a friendly manner by a fellow concertgoer (the choir director's sister).

2:58  Find seat next to a former professor and son of my organ instructor, by sheer coincidence.  Discover my distant musical second-cousin is singing a tenor solo.  Cool.

3:15  Schubert's Mass in G has a walking-bass Credo, just like BWV 232.  Interesting.

4:10  Solo cello AND choir.

4:30  Potential soloist for Coffee Cantata?  Winning.  Say hi to church choir friends.  Dash back to sem.

4:50.  Read Pieper about the divine essence and attributes.  Wait, so while the Trinity's essence is indivisible, God still "divides" His attributes in Scripture so we can understand them?  What about names of God?

5:40  My head hurts.  More coffee.  Ouch, the microwave.

6:15 Om nom NOM nom NOM.

7:00  Practice?  Hmmm.  Well, the organ shoes are not here, so...24 marathon!  Jack Bauer will find them for me. :)

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Literary Devices in Johann Gerhard's Devotional Writings

Johann Gerhard, 17th-century German theologian
[Prayer] is a ladder by which we ascend to heaven, for prayer is nothing else than a drawing near of the mind to God.  It is a shield of defence, because the soul that liveth daily in a spirit of prayer is secure from the insults of devils.  Prayer is a faithful messenger we send to the throne of God, to call Him to our aid in the time of need.[1]
That just constitutes a sampling of the engaging poetic imagery Johann Gerhard pens in his devotional books.  Born in 1582 and living until 1637, the German theologian studied in the age of Lutheran Scholasticism following the publication of the Book of Concord, which he helped support by way of his outstanding doctrinal literature, the Loci.  However, alongside of this, he assisted in building up the collection of short sacred contemplations accessible for personal use.  In this genre, he idiomized a metaphorical style influential to later authors of the cultural Pietist flavor.  Overall, these metaphorical devices of Gerhard’s devotional writings as a rule directly quote Scripture or paraphrase it using accurate hermeneutics.
            First of all, extended metaphors typically influenced by Biblical parables encompass substantial paragraphs, even in alternation.  Popularly, Gerhard likens the salvation story to a marriage relationship between the soul and Christ, and weaves in many other familiar types as well.                                                                                                                                 
Jacob served fourteen years to win Rachel for his wife, but Christ for nearly thirty years endured hunger, thirst, cold, poverty…Samson went down and sought a wife from among the Philistines, a people devoted to destruction, but the Son of God came down from heaven to choose HHHis bride from among men condemned…Foul and defiled was His bride, but He anointed her with the oil of His mercy and grace.[2]
Amongst other notable figures the author features are the vine and branches, the robe of righteousness, the flood of baptism, evening and morning, the oil of faith, and the Shepherd and sheep.
Next, Gerhard often utilizes the technique of repeatedly comparing and contrasting two people or objects, such as the sinner and the Savior, in order to make a point.  Furthermore, this can be used for either a Law comfort or Gospel promise.  For example, “If this be done in a green tree, what shall be done in a dry (Luke 23:31)? If this be done to the Just and Holy One, what shall be done to sinners?”[3]  On the other hand, in discussing the blessings brought to the Christian by the Passion, Gerhard lists many points of deference between their state and their Redeemer’s.  Here is a mere sampling: 
He willingly submitted to be stripped of His garments, that He might restore to us the robe of innocence, lost through our transgressions.  He was pierced with thorns,
that He might heal our sin-pierced hearts.  He bore the burden of the cross, so that He might remove from us the awful burden of eternal punishment.[4]
Third, Gerhard uses analogies either drawn from plain understanding or explained by perspicuous biblical passages in order to express a correct exegetical inference.  In “Loving God Alone” from Sacred Meditations, he supports from the conclusion that if God is perfect and most loving as the Creator, one should reciprocate that love rather than to other creatures. 
Does not that man do himself injury who loves anything beneath the dignity of his nature?  Our souls are far more noble than any created thing because redeemed by the passion and death of God.  Why then should we stoop to love the creature?...Whatever we love, we love because of its power, its wisdom, or its beauty.  Now what is more powerful, what is wiser, what is more beautiful, than God?[5]
In the “Prayer for Victory Over Temptations and for Safe-Keeping from the Devil’s Plots,” Gerhard applies the scale of Christ’s temptations to the weak believers’. 
If he dared to attempt to make himself commander of the heavenly army, will he keep himself from me, a common soldier?  If he did not think twice to oppose the
very Head (Matthew 4:3), is there any wonder that he attempts to destroy a weak member of the mystical body?[6]
            Fourth of all, sometimes Gerhard brings out the simplicity of a truth by means of very short sentences, frequently to compare and contrast, even directly citing Scripture.  “I despair of myself.  In You, hope is repaired.  Of myself, I fail.  In You, I am restored.  In me, there is anguish.  In You, I find joy once again.”[7]  In regard to the “Denial of Self”:  It is better for me to be nothing in You and receive Your everything than to be something in and of myself and have nothing.  Where I am not, there I am happier.  My weakness longs to be strengthened by Your might.  My nothingness reaches for Your strength.”[8]
In a “Thanksgiving for Preservation” prayer, to bring out the truth that everything needed to sustain life belongs to God, Gerhard assembles a chain of short sentences to bring home the reality:
In You, I bend and move my limbs.  Without You, I cannot participate in life and movement…The day belongs to You.  The night belongs to You…Silver is Yours.  Gold is Yours.[9]
            Lastly, Gerhard views the Bible in light of the theology of the cross, and also Christocentrically.  Any conclusions he draws are based on keeping the message of Christ’s atoning act central, accentuating the Messianic typology already found in Scripture.  To
ignore such clear signs would be an exegetical crime, and would even render the interpretation more obscure. 
            In the end, all of the abovementioned literary tools are utilized by Gerhard for a poetic effect, organizational quality, interest, and finally as Scriptural basis for his seemingly subjective ideas.  Though some may attribute his heavy usage of metaphors to the foreshadowing of Pietism, they still fall in line with Lutheran orthodoxy in that most are drawn from the Bible.  In including types and descriptive language, Gerhard does not introduce foreign doctrine or misleading analogies that would suggest improper hermeneutics.  Rather, they act as his paintbrush to color biblical concepts, only serving to direct the appreciator towards the perfectly designed model of Holy Scripture.




[1]Johann Gerhard, Sacred Meditations, Malone, TX:  Repristination Press, 1998, 138.

[2]Ibid., 73-4.
[3] Ibid., 18.
[4] Ibid., 42-43.
[5] Ibid., 50. 
[6]Gerhard, Meditations on Divine Mercy, 123.
[7]Ibid., 47. 
[8] Ibid., 117. 
[9] Ibid., 60.  

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Martin Luther's "formula" for success.

Happy Reformationtide, everyone!


I know most people today commemorate the date of Martin Luther's theological revolution as October 31, 1517:  the posting of the 95 Theses about indulgences on the local church door.  Still, I think the real Reformation didn't officially occur until 1523, in conjunction with the release of his Latin Formula missae.  Here is why.

Lex orandi, lex credendi exemplifies Martin Luther’s concept of reform – the law of the church’s worship is sequentially the law of its confession.  In his time, such a worship gathering would be riddled with what he calls the “three serious abuses”:  the silencing of biblical preaching, the prominence of saintly reverence instead of God-directed praise, and the act of sacrificing Christ’s body and blood as an offering.[1] In publishing his Formula missae of 1523 (hereafter FM), Martin Luther strongly furthered reform in the Protestant church merely by adjusting the liturgical practices.  Specific ways in which this is clearly seen are his inclusions of Scriptural preaching, congregational singing, and omitting the canon of the mass.
At the heart of Luther’s method for the Reformation lied his authoritative precedence toward the Bible over the papacy.  Where the Word openly refuted what the pope decreed, he sided with the Holy Spirit-inspired writings in place of allowing Rome the right to change them.  For example, Jesus replied on the contrary to papal authority when answering the scribes and Pharisees.  “He answered and said to them, ‘Why also do you transgress the commandment of God because of your tradition? For God commanded…’”[2] 
The primary issue with which Luther dealt was pride; over time, the church became increasingly awed by and submissive to the liturgical leaders, being assisted by the political rule they also held.  Where God’s commands and promises interfered with their quest for power, the Roman Catholic church refused to comply.  St. Paul writes to Timothy, “Preach the word!  Be ready in season and out of season.  Convince, rebuke, exhort, with all longsuffering and teaching (emphasis mine).”[3]  Not mere words of Holy Writ are referred to here, but using them as a springboard for discourse and a tool to reach people’s sinful hearts and lives.  He later urges, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.”[4]  The instinctive reaction of the believer to hearing the pastor should include supplementing that with music, since godly lyrics and melody fall under their own special didactic form.  Finally, returning to the very words Christ uses to bless the bread and wine,
…As they were eating, Jesus took bread, blessed it and broke it, and gave it to the disciples and said, “Take, eat; this is My body.”  Then He took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you.  For this is My blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins” (Matthew 26:26-28).
Luther saw that the words of institution were what they were on the simplest level; the only sacrifice occurring here was the Lord kindly offering His body and blood to His disciples as strength and comfort, for them to cling to in assurance of their forgiveness.  By His simple phraseology, “Take…drink,” Jesus’ only intent is that His sin-sick followers go ahead and share in His supper, not give it back as an unbloody payment. 
Basing his new worship order on these solid precepts, Luther furthermore demonstrated his humility before the Lord.  If he sought glory and renown before the people of his day, he would have decided to keep the new revision in compliance with the old, or not tried to change it at all.  On the contrary, the theologian remarks, “One should not plan and order something unless he is certain it is pleasing to God.  One should also not make reason supreme in such matters, for if He our Lord is not the author, nothing good can come of it.”[5]
            In regard to the first point, prior to the Reformation, churches did not hear much individual preaching from the priestly clergy.  Instead, the only preservation they had of the true Gospel was in the historic lectionary readings, set up during the early Christian era and used for centuries.  However, Luther understood that the utilization of a pastor to expound biblical doctrines could also be edifying, and inserted a sermon on one of the texts between the Nicene Creed and the Preface.   In addition to the homiletic portion, Luther additionally advocated the continuation of the daily Psalm readings, as he had practiced in the monastery.  While the essential eight Daily Office hours were reduced to two (Matins and Vespers), the frequently scheduled meditations on the Bible stayed a laudable tradition.  In differentiation to the current usage, Luther wrote, “The reading of the Epistles and Gospels is necessary, too.  Only it is wrong to read them in a language the common people do not understand.”[6] Once again, the Catholic way was permissible as long as it was clarified and not hidden in mystery, to which the early church fathers would have surely disapproved.  “Luther saw his reforms not as the unilaterally instituted ideas of an individual, but rather as a reform within the church catholic that sought to demonstrate whenever possible the continuity between itself and the whole history of Christian worship and piety.”[7] Attempts before this by the Radical reformers to create a new mass setting ended up to be misleading in that they sought to do the opposite of what the Roman church practiced, including alternate vestments and iconoclasm.[8] On its own, the liturgy was not the problem, but the false doctrine mixed in to usurp the truth.
            Secondly, before Luther’s reforms there were limited hymns or other opportunities for the people to sing in a church service.  Rather, the officiant would perform all of the reading, praying and chanting, nearly turning the Sunday morning time of worship into a spectator event.  As Luther realized, this method is not the way to keep the laity engaged or connect their own faith with what was occurring in the service.  He understood that by singing Christians were also teaching themselves the Word, at the same time publicly confessing their faith and engraving Scriptural truth in their hearts via the music.  The more ways in which an individual can learn something, the more deeply he or she remembers it, and in a likewise manner it happens when the Gospel is spoken, heard, read, sung, and taken in all at once.  In the strictest sense, the FM is completely accompanied by the acapella choir, with an active listening part by the congregation.  Yet, Luther indicates that he would “wish for us to have as many vernacular songs as possible that the people could sing during the mass either along with the Gradual or along with the Sanctus and Agnus Dei.”[9] The educated class of the day spoke Latin as their primary language, but where a peasant audience may join in, the German component would be a helpful addition. 
            Lastly, the key difference with the FM as compared to the previous Roman order of worship is the removal of the canon of the mass.  This lengthy, special prayer chanted under the breath of the priest entirely altered the direction of worship, sacrificing once more Jesus’ body and blood rather than receive it graciously as a sacrament.  How close and yet how distant were the clergy; the very elements which God intended to bring them His forgiveness as a means of grace they considered an object of reoffering to appease His anger.  Nevertheless, Luther retained as much as he possibly could of the Catholic mass, even the elevation, which he kept due to the people’s hesitation at the reintroduction.[10]  In reference to the Deutsche Messe, the 1526 German rendering of the FM, Luther states, “The Elevation we do not wish to abolish but to maintain, since it coincides very well with the German Sanctus and signifies that Christ has commanded to remember Him.”[11] In Lutheran practice, this stood for honoring Christ’s death on the cross to pay for the world’s sins, not a misdirected, merit-minded adoration of the host.  Jesus’ words of institution were still chanted during the consecration, and Luther seemed to direct that each form should be served directly after, with the Sanctus, Agnus Dei, or hymns meanwhile sung for spiritual edification.[12]
            There is not a great deal of disparity between the modern Lutheran Divine Service found in many American hymnals and the FM of Wittenberg.  In Luther’s day, the confession and absolution consisted of the Kyrie, found in the sermon, or administered personally by the pastor.[13]  Today, however, the first item spoken in its modern counterpart is the confession, with the forgiveness of sins declared immediately following.  Elevation is generally obsolete due to its Catholic implications, but the church now partakes of both the bread and wine without reluctance.  What is more, the amount of chant versus spoken readings varies between congregations, and post-Vatican II, the Old Testament lesson may now follow the Collect.   Another addition of which Luther would definitely have approved would be the prescribed inclusion of hymns, at least for the opening, before the sermon, and in conclusion.  One of the reasons why he may not have dictated them specifically would be the lack of resources available then in 1523 – the rich selection of Lutheran chorales accessible now were as of then unwritten.  Still, the promotion of godly poetry set to music that the laity could finally utilize to teach themselves is perfectly in line with Luther’s goals. 
The directions for a worship service as laid out in the FM were meant to be a “description, not a prescription.”[14]  If every minute detail of the liturgy would imply something of adiaphora or man’s preference, Luther knew that humanity’s natural leaning would be toward the man-made add-ons, and they could very well overrule the “one thing needful,” namely, faith in Jesus Christ.[15]  On the positive viewpoint, with enough time and distance, the church has progressed through to the point where Luther desired to see it, as outlined in the Wittenberg church orders.  On a Sunday morning, one can readily find a group of Lutherans freely hearing the Word, singing the biblical liturgy and hymns, and eating and drinking the Lord’s Supper as a sacrament, not a sacrifice.   This lies in stark opposition to the disastrous condition of the 16th-century church, attending worship without biblical interpretation, concentrated in the lives of the saints, and centered around the canon of the mass.  All in all, by presenting his Wittenberg congregation the Formula missae in 1523, Martin Luther effected a reformation to orthodoxy that lasts until today.


                                                                                                                                   
Works Cited: 
Forell, George W., Harold J. Grimm, and Theodore Hoelty- Nickel.  Luther and Culture.  Decorah, IA:  Luther College Press, 1960. 
Halter, Carl and Carl Schalk.  A Handbook of Church Music.  St. Louis:  Concordia Publishing House, 1978.
Herl, Joseph.  Worship Wars in Early Lutheranism.  New York:  Oxford University Press, 2004.
Lull, Timothy F., ed.  Martin Luther’s Basic Theological Writings. Minneapolis:  Fortress Press, 1989.
Schalk, Carl.  Music in Early Lutheranism.  St. Louis:  Concordia Academic Press, 2001. 
The Holy Bible, New King James Version.  Nashville:  Thomas Nelson, 1982.



[1] Lull, Timothy F., ed.  Martin Luther’s Basic Theological Writings. Minneapolis:  Fortress Press, 1989, 445.

[2] Matthew 15:3-4.
[3] 2 Timothy 4:2.
[4] Colossians 4:16.
[5] Forell, George W., Harold J. Grimm, and Theodore Hoelty- Nickel.  Luther and Culture.  Decorah, IA:  Luther College Press, 1960, 185. 
[6] Lull, 451.
[7] Schalk, Carl.  Music in Early Lutheranism.  St. Louis:  Concordia Academic Press, 2001, 19.

[8] Halter, Carl and Carl Schalk.  A Handbook of Church Music.  St. Louis:  Concordia Publishing House, 1978, 59. 

[9] Herl, Joseph.  Worship Wars in Early Lutheranism.  New York:  Oxford University Press, 2004, 6. 

[10] Halter and Schalk, 60. 
[11] Forell et. al., 208.
[12] Ibid., 207. 
[13] Halter and Schalk, 207. 
[14] Ibid., 62. 
[15] Luke 10:42.