BWV 93 Wer nur den lieben Gott lt walten

Fifth Sunday after Trinity.

Poet unknown.

1. Georg Neumark, verse 1 of the hymn, 1657 (Fischer-Tmpel, IV, #365); 2. verse 2 with interpolated recitative; 3. based freely on verse 3; 4. verse 4; 5. verse 5 with interpolated recitative; 6. based freely on verse 6; 7. verse 7 of the hymn.

9 July 1724, Leipzig.

BG 22; NBA I/17.

1. Chorus [Verse 1] (S, A, T, B)

The man who leaves to God all power
And hopeth in him all his days,
He will most wondrously protect him
Through every cross and sad distress.
Who doth in God Almighty trust
He doth not on the sand construct.

2. Chorale [Verse 2] and Recit. (B)

    What help to us are grievous worries?
They just oppress the heart
With heavy woe, with untold fear and pain.
    What help to us our "woe and ah!"?
It just brings bitter, sad distress.
    What help to us that ev'ry morning
With sighing from our sleep to rise
And with our tearstained countenance at night to go to bed?
    We make ourselves our cross and grief
Through anxious sadness only greater.
So fares a Christian better;
He bears his cross with Christ-like confidence and calm.

3. Aria (T)

If we just be little quiet,(1)
Whene'er the cross's hour draws nigh,
For this our God's dear sense of mercy(2)
Forsakes us ne'er in word or deed.
God, who his own elected knows,
God, who himself our "Father" names,
Shall one day ev'ry trouble banish
And to his children send salvation.

4. Aria [Verse 4] (S, A) with instr. chorale

He knows the proper time for gladness,
He knows well when it profit brings;
If he hath only faithful found us
And marketh no hypocrisy,
Then God comes, e'en before we know,
And leaves to us much good result.

5. Chorale [Verse 5] and Recit. (T)

    Think not within thy trial by fire,
When flashing thunder cracks
And thee a sultry tempest anxious makes,
    That thou by God forsaken art.
God bides e'en in the greatest stress,
Yea, even unto death
With his dear mercy midst his people.
Thou may'st not think then
    That this man is in God's lap sitting
Who daily, like the wealthy man,
In joy and rapture life can lead.
    Who doth on constant fortune feed,
Midst nought but days of pleasure,
Must oft at last,
When once he hath of idle joy his fill,
"The pot is poisoned!"(3) utter.
    Pursuing time doth change so much!
Did Peter once the whole night long
With empty labor pass the time
And take in nothing?
At Jesus' word he can e'en yet a catch discover.(4)
So trust alone midst want and cross and pain,
Trust in thy Jesus' kindness
With faithful heart and spirit.
When rains have past he sunshine brings,(5)
Appointing every man his end.

6. Aria (S)

I will to the Master look
And e'er in my God put trust.
    He worketh truly wonders rare.(6)
He the rich man will can make.

7. Chorale [Verse 7] (S, A, T, B)

Sing, pray, and walk in God's own pathways,
Perform thine own work ever true
And trust in heaven's ample blessing,
Then will he stand by thee anew;
For him who doth his confidence
In God rests, he forsaketh not.

1. This line is verbatim from verse 3.

2. This line is verbatim from verse 3.

3. Cf. 2 Kg. 4:40.

4. Cf. Lk. 5:5-7.

5. Cf. BWV 12/6 and BWV 92/6 and 8.

6. This line is verbatim from verse 6.

Copyright Z. Philip Ambrose

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