Those who follow classical music will be familiar with one of its most remarkable works, Handel’s Messiah.
Messiah was composed by the German-born George Frideric Handel in 1741. By then, Handel had settled in England and was living on Brook Street in London, where he remained for the rest of his life. Messiah is an oratorio: in simple terms, a large-scale musical work for orchestra and voices, intended to be performed without costumes, scenery, or acting. It is therefore quite different from opera, in which singers are also required to act.
Handel had written several operas before abandoning the genre in favour of oratorio, which he believed would receive a warmer reception in England. To his dismay, his early oratorios attracted little enthusiasm. Some were performed in almost empty theatres. Handel once joked about the poor attendance, saying that it was at least good for the acoustics, since the theatres contained such a large volume of unoccupied space. As composing and directing music provided his only livelihood, the poor patronage brought him close to financial ruin. He fell deeply into debt, was pursued by creditors, and faced the terrifying prospect of imprisonment for debt.
In July 1741, a wealthy British gentleman named Charles Jennens gave Handel a text compiled from the King James Bible, presenting Jesus Christ as the Messiah and recounting His prophecy, annunciation, birth, miracles, passion, death, resurrection, and glorification.
On 22 August 1741, Handel began setting Jennens’ words to music. For three weeks, he scarcely left his home. The waiter responsible for bringing his meals each day was astonished to find that, whenever he arrived with fresh food, the previous meal had barely been touched. One day, as the waiter pushed open the door to Handel’s room, he was startled to see tears streaming down the composer’s face. Handel told him, “I did think I did see all Heaven before me, and the great God Himself.” He had just completed the Hallelujah Chorus, one of the nineteen choruses in Messiah and one of the most celebrated pieces of music ever written.
In just twenty-four days, Handel completed Messiah—an astonishing achievement, considering that he produced 260 pages of original music in that remarkably brief period. His biographer, Sir Newman Flower, later wrote that, given the immensity of the work and the brevity of the undertaking, it might remain forever the greatest feat in the history of musical composition.
Messiah premiered in Dublin, Ireland, on 13 April 1742, with Handel himself conducting. Local choristers and soloists performed the work. Among the soloists was Susanna Cibber, a secular opera singer who had recently endured a scandalous divorce in London. As she sang the aria “He was despised”, the local clergyman Reverend Delany was so deeply moved that he rose to his feet and exclaimed, “Woman, for this be all thy sins forgiven thee.”
Legend has it that when Messiah was first performed in London, King George II, who was present, rose as the choir began the majestic Hallelujah Chorus. Since the king had risen, everyone else stood too, giving rise to a tradition associated with the chorus in Britain to this day. Later, another revered composer, Joseph Haydn, reportedly wept like a child when he first heard the Hallelujah Chorus and declared, “He is the master of us all.”
Handel’s Messiah is arguably one of the finest musical works ever composed. Its success brought Handel financial relief, helping to rescue him from debt, while its performances also contributed to charitable causes. His greatest creative genius had been unleashed at precisely the moment when almost everyone else had written him off.
Many people surrender when failure enters their lives. Had Handel done so, the world might have been deprived of one of its most enduring musical treasures. Failure is not necessarily the end; sometimes it is the furnace in which greatness is forged. Like Handel, we can accomplish remarkable things on the heels of disappointment, provided we refuse to surrender to despair. I would therefore urge the reader never to allow anyone to write them off.
Nor should age become a prison of the mind. Handel was fifty-six when he composed Messiah. Many imagine that achievement belongs chiefly to the young, but genuine passion does not expire with advancing years. If a calling burns within you, it can remain alive throughout your life. Handel died in 1759, aged seventy-four. Remarkably, only eight days before his death, he conducted a concert. That was not merely talent; it was passion refusing to surrender even at the threshold of eternity. His story reminds us that purpose can burn brightly long after others believe our season has passed.