A couple of weeks ago I was fortunate to attend a concert here at St Martin’s by the amazing choral group I Fagiolini, supported by our very own Choral Scholars. The focus was Benevoli’s little-known but magnificent Mass for four choirs. However, what touched me most was an Oratorio by Benevoli’s contemporary, Carissimi, telling the story of Jephthah.
For those of you who (like me) are not overly familiar with the book of Judges, Jephthah, a mighty warrior, is called on to lead the Israelite army when the Ammonites make war against them. After making a deal with God to sacrifice the first thing that comes to meet him on his return, he sets off to defeat the Ammonites. On returning home he is met by his daughter, his only child. Jephthah is distraught, but sticks to his vow, and with her apparent consent, sacrifices his daughter.
It is one of those painful, bewildering Old Testament stories that I don’t know what to do with. A desperate, foolish deal, a bloody battle, the death of an innocent girl…and God apparently complicit in the whole thing; offering up the Ammonites and accepting the sacrifice of Jephthah’s daughter.
So, why am I writing about it? Because we are still living in a world of painful, bewildering, non-sensical stories. A world full of pride and foolishness, of wars and destruction of life. Because we are all tempted to bargain with God, to make decisions out of fear or weakness that we come to regret. Because we are all complicit. And because, at the end of the Oratorio, Carissimi writes the most poignant, gut-wrenching lament. ‘Weep, children of Israel…and with songs of sadness lament for Jephthah’s only daughter’. Lament, lament, passed between every voice in the choir. Lament, sung by our sisters and brothers, our daughters and sons, around the world. Lament, crying from our own hearts. Lament, resounding deep in the heart of our God.
Susannah Woodd
