Text No. 1
Herzog Albrecht von Preussen, 1547

Text No. 2–6
Unknown author

First performance
Third Sunday after Epiphany,
21 January 1725

The archaic Trutzlied by Duke Albrecht of Prussia, who converted to Lutheranism in 1525 and was the last Grand Master of the Teutonic Knights, provides the inspiration for Bach’s spirited introductory chorus. Dominated by a soprano melody delivered in long notes, the vocal line-by-line delivery of the chorale is embedded in a powerful instrumental setting of alternating string and oboe lines over a driving continuo part. The dynamic unison passages of two violins and a viola underscore the atmosphere of simmering religious tension, but suggest at the same time the stabilising presence of the Holy Trinity. Like the introductory chorus of the 1726 cantata “Alles nur nach Gottes Willen” (All things but as God is willing) – also composed for the Third Sunday after Epiphany – the movement employs a succinct motive of descending fourths which, according to Rudolf Lutz, appear to represent a resolute will to subject “all things” to the rule of God.
The following aria stands in striking contrast to the introductory section. Scored for solo bass and continuo, this invention for two lower voices unfolds as an inimitably complex yet convincing interplay of lines that is characterised by the contradictory statement “Be frightened, O my bosom, not” and the effective melisma drawing out the word “resistance”.
In the alto recitative, large leaps and dissonant intervals illustrate the folly of trying to escape the will of God, to whom even “our very thoughts are manifest”. While the libretto denounces this behaviour as a transgression, making reference to Jonah, the reluctant, old-testament prophet, Bach underscores with a harsh false relation the “foolishness” of fleeing from God ere the smooth vocal phrases render plausible the “faithful trust” in his “protection”.
The following alto and tenor aria is based on one of the most dramatically conflicting text passages that Bach ever set: “I’ll walk, then, with emboldened paces, E’en when me God to grave shall lead”. Here, the determined and almost dance-like ascending string passages are countered by weighty pedal points and descending continuo passages which represent the grave and eternal sleep: without accepting the inevitability of death, heaven and eternity remain beyond reach. The fact that the alto and tenor voices are literally trapped between the trusting strides of the strings and the deathly pull of the continuo renders these dual extremes of human existence palpably audible. The virtuoso coloraturas of the first violin, too, seem to hover around a single note – the tension between stillness and movement, a yearning for death and worldly activity seem to permeate every nuance of the movement. While the fugue-like imitation in the middle section accentuates the aspect of time and its measured course (“As God my days has set in writing”), a sense of loving trust retains the upper hand with the recapitulation of the A section. Formally, the aria’s setting as an intense duet is symbolic of the companionship necessary to find the comfort and courage to take the final steps in life. Bach, who was sorely tested as both orphan and widower, has realised here a strong image of the kind-hearted guide, whose gentle power of persuasion cannot be resisted.
The following soprano recitative is, most unusually, accompanied by two obbligato oboes. While this initially appears to suggest a pastoral scene, it emerges in the quavering, adagio closing passage as a symbol of the death knell and the “blessed, desirable end”. The closing chorale with its beautifully extended “Amen” maintains this earnest tone while simultaneously transforming it into both a congregational hymn and an individual prayer: “Just this, Lord, will I ask of thee”.