Nessun Dorma
by Giacomo Puccini
One of the best-known tenor arias in all of opera is Nessun Dorma (None Shall Sleep) from Giacomo Puccini’s Turandot. You may have heard the aria without knowing it: it became something of Luciano Pavarotti’s signature aria after his recording was used as the music for the 1990 World Cup Soccer matches. Since then, many films and commercials have capitalized on its new fame, possibly usurped only recently by Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana in classical appropriations.
In the opera, Calaf, Il Principe Ignoto (the Unknown Prince), falls in love at first sight with Princess Turandot. She is beautiful but cold and any prospective suitor must first answer three riddles. But there are no boxes of Creamettes given as consolation prizes: those who fail are beheaded. The Prince handles the three trick questions but the Princess is still unwilling to marry him. The Prince gives her an opportunity to back out of the deal: if she guesses his name by dawn, she can behead him; otherwise, wedding bells will ring.
The cruel Princess conscripts everyone in the kingdom to find out the Prince’s name. If they fail, they will take the Prince’s place on the chopping block. The final act opens at night with first Prince Calaf and then the women of the kingdom singing nessun dorma (“none shall sleep”). His verse is full of anticipation, theirs full of dread. The Prince looks up at the Princess’ chambers and sings, “None shall sleep! None shall sleep! Even you, o Princess, in your cold room, watch the stars that tremble with love and with hope”. I am always reminded of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” at that point – “above the deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by . . . the hopes and fears of all the years are met . . .” and also of Psalm 19:1 – “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.”
I won’t spoil the opera’s ending, but I’m sure you already know – it’s a love story, after all. The prince promises, “And my kiss will dissolve the silence that makes you mine.” Then, hitting a high B, he proclaims, “All'alba vincerò! Vincerò! Vincerò!" (At daybreak I shall win! I shall win! I shall win!)
And here we are at the beginning of Lent – our own 40-day love story. Jesus – our Prince – has fallen hard for you and he’s up to any test. He’s already answered the three riddles (He is the way, the truth and the life, after all) and he has gone through Heaven and Hell – quite literally – to rescue us. Whether he is still your “unknown prince” or whether you know him, he has already won your hand. Ever the gentleman, though, Jesus gives each of us the ability to say “no” to him: “I’m standing at your door and knocking: if you’ll let me in, I’ll sit down and feast with you (Revelation 3:20)”.
Can you guess his name? There are many, of course: wonderful counselor, Prince of Peace, Almighty God, living water, bread of life. And Jesus is also the only one who could introduce himself with the ineffable name of God: I Am. The good news, though, is that “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved (Acts 2:21).”
So take these 40 days and nights to get to know your Prince. Lose a little sleep, even. It’s worth it. And at daybreak on Easter morning, you and the Lord can proclaim, Vincerò! Vincerò! Vincerò!
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2 comments:
You have touched on something so profound it's revolutionary in this blog. Unfortunately many, if not the majority, treat "relationship" with God as a religious exercise that is lived out within the context of church. Too often it is mechanical and grounded in the self-centered apparatus of quid pro quo, you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. But God's approach is drastically different. His use of "covenant" to describe relationship is profound. Today we view covenant in more of a legal sense. To the ancient Jew, the legal aspect of covenant was ancillary; the real meat of the term depicted a thoroughly committed interpersonal relationship.
To me, the prince in the opera continues his pursuit of the princess in the face of rejection because he is convinced that once he possesses her, his love will change her. Jesus has gone to the ultimate length, in the face of rejection, to hold out his proposal of marriage. We are the bride of Christ although we are currently in the time of betrothal...we are making ourselves ready for the marriage supper of the Lamb.
Far from being a stiff, business as usual exercise of religiosity, a true relationship with Christ is the most unbelievable love story known to mankind and we are the object of his affection.
Great post, Doug. I am so stirred by it!
Thank you, Pastor, for digesting this even further for us. And thank you, Doug, for actually thinking through all the intricacies of these masterpieces and conveying their relavance to us, as Christians. Praise God!
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