The Kingdom, London Symphony Orchestra, Elder, Barbican Hall

But the overwhelming feel of The Kingdom is of supplication, perfectly symbolised by what Diana McVeagh calls "the dropping chords" in the final bars. Sighing musical phrases litter the score. The self-sacrificial nature of the early Christian church, as well as that of Anglicanism (a branch of Protestantism that looked with more reverence to the early church than any other), could not have been better evoked. Every dynamic and melodic direction bowed before us like branches of a willow. Elgar is here summoning up the early Christian experience and reminding audiences of their own Anglican tradition.

Nowhere are those genuflecting subito pianissimos more clear or moving than in the apotheosis to the Third Part. The powerful London Symphony Chorus, soloists and orchestra all vied to out-hush each other in their glory to God. The Christian message couldn't be clearer: less is more. One of the most rewarding musical moments in the work, Mary's schizophrenic aria, "The sun goeth down", has a similar purpose. Here, in the shape of a member of the holy family, we encounter again the counterintuitive duality of early (and Anglican) Christianity: outward anxiety and inner fervour.

Susan Gritton stepped into the breach at the last moment, as in a memorable Stabat Mater late last year. She replaced an indisposed Cheryl Barker this time, and almost came out the strongest link in the chain. Mary has just witnessed the incarceration of Peter and John for their proclamation of Jesus's resurrection, and with it perhaps the end of the church. Gritton has to drag herself from this vale of sorrows into a Joan-of-Arc moment of visionary frenzy. She did this, then withdrew her voice, allowing the orchestral colours of the opening (a Mahlerian night music of power and grace) to subsume her.

Leaving well behind him a few iffy operatic outings earlier in the season, Iain Paterson also impressed. His unrushed, beautifully articulated delivery drew us in whenever it came to talk to us. Poor old Stuart Skelton was under the weather but still gave a heroic performance as John. Sarah Connolly's part was too small to figure much  - though she added a lustre to the quartets.

The choir needed its hand held, which Elder did, navigating them through the hills and valleys of this deceptively simple religious narrative. Like a seasoned Sherpa, he knew exactly how to manage the climbs and descents. The drooping quality returns. The Lord's Prayer bends its head and the men sing almost inaudibly to the Father. Then, in the final benediction, gilded ever so lightly by a sunny rumble of trumpets and drums, a church appears to arise.

• Read "Elgar's Enigma Was a Love Child Named Pearl" on theartsdesk
• Check out the rest of the 2011 season at the Barbican
• Check out the rest of the London Symphony Orchestra season
• Find Sir Mark Elder and The Hallé's recording of The Kingdom on Amazon