Text No. 1, 3 (Choral), 7
Johann Franck (1618–1677)

Text No. 2–6
Arranger unknown

First performance
Twentieth Sunday after Trinity,
22 October 1724

Set in a lively 12⁄8 metre, the introductory chorus is particularly transparent in sound, comprising loosely intertwined string and woodwind lines inspired by the chorale theme. Although the three lower choir voices accompany the soprano melody with a demanding contrapuntal trio, the work is free of all stringency. Everything seems to trill and breathe – as if the listener were entering a lovingly tended village church with colourful windows and creaking wooden galleries on a bright summer morning. With this opening, Bach captures perfectly the pure grace of the gospel.
The tenor aria “Be lively now: thy saviour knocks”, is infectiously joyous in character. The spirit of the introductory chorus continues seamlessly with an irresistibly charming invitation delivered by the solo tenor, transverse flute and continuo in a lively concertante interplay. In this movement, Bach’s captivating setting of the saviour’s “knocking” on the “doors of your heart”, not to mention the believing soul that is rendered almost speechless by “enchanted joy” is no less than masterly. And yet his kaleidoscope of colours is far from exhausted – the following recitative melds into an extended chorale aria that is imbued with a particularly tender light by the violoncello obbligato, while the intense, yearning tone of the text (“Ah, how hungry is my spirit, friend of man, to have thy kindness”) finds both encouragement and fulfilment in the succinct elegance of the cantabile string voice. The next recitative, which speaks of humankind’s wonder at the profound majesty of the act of Communion, is given a peaceful, yet celebratory ambience by the obbligato recorders. In the full orchestral splendour of the ensuing soprano aria, all doubt is swept away and the closing chorale “Jesus, bread of life most truly” emerges as a musical portrayal of the unity in faith and the promise of the great heavenly banquet.
The relatively high number of earlier versions and the possibly associated loss of the original parts indicate that this cantata, written for the Twentieth Sunday after Trinity 1724, probably – and most deservedly – enjoyed a fair degree of popularity in its time.