“To a guilty world you (God) have pledged yourself,
not out of duty,
but because such was your pleasure.”
Those words (in English translation) are attributed to Jacopone da Todi, a 13th Century Franciscan friar and poet. They are from his Lauda Per Nativita Del Signore (“Hymn of Praise for the Birth of the Lord,” often referred to as the “Laud to the Nativity”), which was set to music by the 20th-century Italian composer, Ottorino Respighi, the only composer whom I know to have done so.
(Readers interested in my experience with and views regarding Respighi’s setting of the Laud will find them at the end of this post.)
Jacopone tells and expands upon the story of Jesus’ birth by juxtaposing the glorious heavenly announcement with the abject poverty of the shepherds and of the Holy Family and Mary’s humble obedience. He well understands Luke’s perspective and interests. The lines quoted above appear late in the poem, after the shepherds have left and while Mary is pondering what has happened. They are spoken (in Respighi’s setting, they are sung) in the middle of the angelic chorus’s exuberant singing of the biblical texts praising God. I hear it as Jacopone’s understanding of the reason for the sung praises, and as his invitation to trust God with all we are and have:
We can say “Merry Christmas” (or as our British cousins prefer, “Happy Christmas”) and the like because God acted for us out of the shear pleasure of doing so. I confess I do not fathom the pleasure God derives from being committed to this world, despite my theological education, etc. And there is much to ponder in the charge that “the world” is guilty, a far greater problem than any individual’s particular sins, etc. Most likely I will never fully comprehend either God’s pleasure or universal culpability.
But despite all that, I can and do wish you and this broken world a Merry Christmas, and all the joys and pleasures of this season, because...
“To a guilty world you (God) have pledged yourself,
not out of duty,
but because such was your pleasure.”
(More about the music and me:)
Also often attributed to Jacopone is the Stabat Mater Dolorosa [“The Sorrowing Mother Stood”], which depicts Mary’s anguish at the foot of Jesus’ cross. It has been the subject of musical settings by many composers.
Perhaps the reason only Respighi (to my knowledge) has set the Laud to the Nativity to music is that his work captures the mood of Jacopone’s retelling and expansion of Luke’s birth narrative so perfectly that it is hard to imagine improving on it. The poet’s ability to convey both the poverty and the joy of the Holy Family and of the shepherds is convincingly re-conveyed by Respighi. A palpable sense of awe and wonder inhabits the entire 20-minutes-plus of the piece, and invites the listener into quiet contemplation of the holy birth. It may be the most authentic expression of “the true meaning the true story” of the birth of Jesus that I know.
Nearly 40 years ago I was a member of The Southern Maryland Choral Society, a community chorus conducted by Sandy Willetts. Sandy programmed Respighi’s Laud to the Nativity for our Christmas concert. As if singing that were not enough, we also performed Bach’s Magnificat at the same concert, so our work was cut out for us amateurs. They were each far beyond our obvious reach, but Sandy was an incredible conductor, and we pulled them off, and I like to think quite respectably. (Actually, the two are a beautiful programmatic pair.)
In any case, it was then that I bought an LP recording, which I recall had to be special ordered from England. It’s on the Argo label and is by the Argo Chamber Orchestra and the London Chamber Choir, directed by Laszlo Heltay, and sung in Italian. I cannot guess how many times I’ve played it, and it sounds like it.
After years of thinking I should get a new recording, last week I downloaded an old (1961, maybe) but recently (2010) re-released recording of the Laud by the Roger Wagner Chorale and the Los Angeles Philharmonic. it is directed by Alfred Wallenstein, is in English, and got good reviews on Amazon. And although I think think it is very nice, there is something about the old LP I’ve lived with for so long that I miss. There’s a purity to Heltay’s interpretation that I can hear through the scratches and hum that seems to elude Wallenstein. Maybe I will get used to it, but maybe I don’t want to.
In any case, if you love music Respighi’s Laud to the Nativity is well worth knowing. I’d appreciate any further information you have on any of this...including where I might find a new recording of Laszlo Heltay’s performance.
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