Blessed Feast of the Holy Trinity to you all! In celebration of this occasion, I’ll point you to one of my favorite posts of the past, Revelations of Divine Algebra.
I’ll note that despite the great suggestions in the comments by Annie, *Christopher, Marshall+ and others, I haven’t had the chance to alter the content, so take their thoughts into consideration as well.
Blessed Feast of St. Bede to all! At haligweorc, it’s an important feast as he’s the patron here. There’s a note on him up at the Cafe as well, but–like most things written for popular consumption on Bede–it regards him primarily as an historian. History was just a small part of what he did. Here’s his reckoning of his accomplishments:
Thus much of the Ecclesiastical History of Britain, and more especially of the English
nation, as far as I could learn either from the writings of the ancients, or the tradition
of our ancestors, or of my own knowledge, has, with the help of God, been digested by me,
Bede, the servant of God, and priest of the monastery of the blessed apostles, Peter and
Paul, which is at Wearmouth and Jarrow; who being born in the territory of that same
monastery, was given, at seven years of age, to be educated by the most reverend Abbot
Benedict, and afterwards by Ceolfrid; and spending all the remaining time of my life in
that monastery, I wholly applied myself to the study of Scripture, and amidst the
observance of regular discipline, and the daily care of singing in the church, I always
took delight in learning, teaching, and writing. In the nineteenth year of my age, I
received deacon’s orders; in the thirtieth, those of the priesthood, both of them by the
ministry of the most reverend Bishop John, and by the order of the Abbot Ceolfrid. From
which time, till the fifty-ninth year of my age, I have made it my business, for the use
of me and mine, to compile out of the works of the venerable Fathers, and to interpret and
explain according to their meaning these following pieces –On the Beginning of Genesis, to the Nativity of Isaac and the Reprobation of Ismaal,
three books.Of the Tabernacle and its Vessels, and of the Priestly Vestments, three books.
On the first Part of Samuel, to the Death of Saul, four books.
Of the Building of the Temple, of Allegorical Exposition, like the rest, two books.
Item, on the Book of Kings, thirty Questions.
On Solomon’s Proverbs, three books.
On the Canticles, seven books.
On Isaiah, Daniel, the twelve Prophets, and part of Jeremiah, Distinctions of Chapters,
collected out of St. Jerome’s Treatise.On Esdras and Nehemiah, three books.
On the Song of Habacuc, one book.
On the Book of the blessed Father Tobias, one Book of Allegorical Exposition concerning
Christ and the Church.Also, Chapters of Readings on Moses’s Pentateuch, Joshua, and Judges.
On the Books of Kings and Chronicles.
On the Book of the blessed Father Job.
On the Parables, Ecclesiastes, and Canticles.
On the Prophets Isaiah, Esdras, and Nehemiah.
On the Gospel of Mark, four books.
On the Gospel of Luke, six books.
Of Homilies on the Gospel, two books.
On the Apostle, I have carefully transcribed in order all that I have found in St.
Augustine’s Works.On the Acts of the Apostles, two books.
On the seven Catholic Epistles, a book on each.
On the Revelation of St. John, three books.
Also, Chapters of Readings on all the New Testament, except the Gospel.
Also a book of Epistles to different Persons, of which one is of the Six ages of the
world; one of the Mansions of the Children of Israel; one on the Words of Isaiah,
“And they shall be shut up in the prison, and after many days shall they be visited;
” one of the Reason of the Bissextile, or Leap-Year, and of the Equinox, according to
Anatolius.Also, of the Histories of Saints. I translated the Book of the Life and Passion of St.
Felix, Confessor, from Paulinus’s Work in metre, into prose.The Book of the Life and Passion of St. Anastasius, which was ill translated from the
Greek, and worse amended by some unskillful person, I have corrected as to the sense.I have written the Life of the Holy Father Cuthbert, who was both monk and prelate,
first in heroic verse, and then in prose.The History of the Abbots of this Monastery, in which I rejoice to serve the Divine
Goodness, viz. Benedict, Ceolfrid, and Huetbert, in two books.The Ecclesiastical History of our Island and Nation in five books.
The Martyrology of the Birthdays of the Holy Martyrs, in. which I have carefully
endeavored to set down all that could find, and not only on what day, but also by what
sort of combat, or under what judge they overcame the world.A Book of Hymns in several sorts of metre, or rhyme.
A Book of Epigrams in heroic or elegiac verse.
Of the Nature of Things, and of the Times, one book of each.
Also, of the Times, one larger book.
A book of Orthography digested in Alphabetical Order.
Also a Book of the Art of Poetry, and to it I have added another little Book of Tropes
and Figures; that is, of the Figures and Manners of Speaking in which the Holy Scriptures
are written.
Emphasis added to highlight what he considered to be his most important work; history is literally the smallest part…
As specifically his works on the gospels show, Bede saw his role to complement and complete. That is, his cycle of 40 homilies was specifically designed to fill out Gregory the Great’s own book of 40–the almost complete lack of overlap signals this. Too, Bede’s commentary efforts were not on the two gospels most often used in the liturgy for which good commentary already existed but, rather, Luke and Mark–the two used the least and for which good commentary was hard to find. He sought to plug the gaps, fill in the holes. That is, he saw himself as part of a team effort for edifying and building up the Church.
And that’s why he’s the patron here.
One of my favorite words that gets thrown around–“traditional”–is inherently slippery… “Traditional” for whom? When is the ideal time when something stops and starts being traditional?
The notion of tradition is always a contemporary construct–an idea of how we view things and privilege things that appeared and/or happened in the past. There was discussion on Ship of Fools about whether the “Traditional Office Hymns” in my “traditional Anglo-Catholic” ordo were, in fact traditional. It’s a perfectly fair question and my response is that the list I give matches the list in the first edition of Ritual Notes supplemented and checked with the Anglican Breviary meaning that the list stands firmly documented within Anglo-Catholic tradition.
On the other hand…
Here’s another list:
From Nov 1 Matins: Primo dierum | Lauds: Aeterne rerum | Vespers: Lucis Creator (Sunday, O lux beata) | Compline: Christe qui lux es
Advent Matins: Verbum Supernum | Lauds: Vox clara | Vespers: Conditor alme siderum
Christmas Matins: A Patre unigenitus | Lauds: A solis ortus cardine | Vespers: Christe redemptor omnium
Epiphany Matins: A Patre unigenitus | Lauds: Iesus refulsit omnium | Vespers: Hostis Herodes impie
LXX Matins: Alleluia piis edite laudibus | Lauds: Almum sidereae iam patriae decus | Vespers: Alleluia dulce carmen
Lent Matins: Clarum deus ieiunii | Lauds: Iesu quadragenariae | Vespers: Audi benigne conditor
Passiontide Matins: Arbora decora | Lauds: Auctor salutis | Vespers: Vexilla Regis
Easter Matins: Iesu nostra redemptio | Lauds: Aurora lucis rutilat | Vespers: Ad cenam Agni prouidi
After Asc Matins: Optatus votis omnium | Lauds: Aeterne rex altissime | Vespers: Hymnum canamus gloriae
Pentecost Matins: Veni creator Spiritus | Lauds: Beata nobis gaudia | Vespers: Iam Christus astra ascenderat
Until Nov 1 Matins: Nocte surgentes | Lauds: Ecce iam noctis | Vespers: Deus creator omnium (Sunday, Lucis creator) | Compline: Te lucis ante terminum
There are a number of commonalities between this list and the other, the chief difference being static hymnody through the week in Ordinary time in this listing… But there are other differences as well. This list comes straight from a 10th century English Benedictine customary (Ælfric’s LME for the OE folk in the crowd)–so it’s pretty darn “traditional” too. But which is more traditional? How do we adjudicate?
If we push it further, though, we find that this isn’t even “the” Office Hymn cycle for 10th century English Benedictines. Rather, there were two different hymnal types in circulation, the Winchester-Worcester type and the Canterbury type, that reflect how continental influences shaped local practice during the Benedictine Revival (the 10th c. rebirth of monasticism in England after the Viking depredations of the previous centuries). This present list, while an important witness of actual(?) use, isn’t even a “pure” form of the Winchester-Worcester type. Furthermore, how we even define “pure” is up in the air–do we consider “pure” to be what is in the majority of the sources that have survived? And if so–we need to consider how representative the books are that have survived…
“Traditional” is simple until you start pushing on it and defining it;”tradition” is one of those things that becomes fuzzier the more you look at it.
Tradition isn’t a static thing and it isn’t a single thing. As any medievalist will tell you, there isn’t a common “medieval” anything. Rather, we can only talk about what certain texts represent about what was happening in certain places at certain times (…and discussions will ensue about whether any of it actually happened as it was represented…). Much of what appears as Anglo-Catholic tradition is a Victorian adjudication about what is properly medieval in light of their construct of the high medieval period as an English golden age. (Which is why the contemporaneous pre-Raphaelite paintings of the Arthurian cycle have the 5th century characters in 14/15th century accoutrements…)
Thoughtful discernment is key here. The answer on the Office Hymns is clearly that both lists—the Anglo-Catholic (presumably Tridentine) one and Ælfric’s one—have a place in the tradition. The one we choose positions us in relation to that tradition. Personally, I like Ælfric’s because it has more static elements and thus fits the peculiarities of my current Office practice. Too, it aligns me with the English Benedictine pre-Scholastic practice which I think most fully and properly illuminates the Anglican way. At the same time, I recognize that it falls outside of what is “traditional” for classic Victorian-inspired (heavily Scholastic) Anglo-Catholicism.
I guess if there’s a note I want to end on, it’s this: “tradition” often gets used in churchy circles as a rhetorical blunt instrument meant to end discussions. It doesn’t have to be. Tradition can also be a way of understanding the fullness of what we have received and understanding how adjudicating among the manifold options makes a difference for how we understand ourselves, our faith, and our practices of faith now.
Today, tomorrow and the day after are the Rogation days. If you missed it, here’s a nice post on them from the Episcopal Cafe (not by me)… The Litany is especially appropriate on these days after MP or at some other point. They also have their own collects. I didn’t see them specifically noted as I glanced at my prayerbook during the morning commute–perhaps they’re pointed out in the Priest’s Handbook rather than the BCP?
Update: Here they are…hiding right after the other collects under number 19. Thanks, Scott!
In any case, there were historically two main purposes for the day, the blessing of the crops and the final cram for the Day of Judgment (anticipated Thursday). Because of the importance of final cram day, more Old English sermons survive for these days than any other liturgical occasion–including much of the sermonic material in the Vercelli Book. Common topics were the Four Last Things (death, hell, judgment, and heaven), the Creeds, and the Lord’s Prayer. So, in that spirit, I offer this as a great opportunity to bone up on the basics again…
The communio is the music and texts appointed to be sung during the distribution of the Blessed Sacrament in the Roman Rite. The texts tend to be a combination of psalm texts and other parts of Scripture interwoven with one another. As such, they represent a classic form of interpretation through juxtaposition that is at the heart of the Western liturgical tradition of biblical interpretation. That is, the meaning of the biblical texts is neither declared nor forced upon the singers/hearers, but instead is coaxed forth by the apposition of two or more texts joined by context and experience.
NLM reports the final completion of a project of its mother organization, the Church Music Association of America, that I will reproduce in full:
The Communio Project of putting all communions with Psalms online is now finished. You can see them here. This the one place where you can find the music for the communion antiphon sung in the manner recommended by the General Instruction. They were typeset by chant master Richard Rice. At last, the full collection is available to the world for instant download and, we can hope, singing every Sunday forever more.
Do visit and check out these treasures. While they are listed for ease of convenience on the site in alphabetical order, the index file at the top shows their proper liturgical ordering. They are in Latin with the traditional square notation, but the scripture references are included and the second page contains an English translation of the text. I’ll offer one here in the spirit of the season.
Dr. Deidre Good of GTS has written a short thought about ++Rowan’s lecture on Scripture interpretation. (h/t *Christopher) In it, she specifically addresses something that is a major concern of mine. That is, if the liturgical gathering is the primary and normative locus for the Body of Christ encountering the Word of God, why are our lectionaries piece-meal? Why do they consciously skip certain texts–and what does this say about us as an interpretive community…
One of the fundamental things that make Christians Christians is that
we share a canon. We have wrestled and struggled with the Scriptures for centuries and that is part of what makes us who we are. What does it do to us and to our formation when we choose to not wrestle with God?
Some of the comments engage the whole idea of selected readings at all. I have thought a bit about this and point back to something I wrote on this topic a while ago. I’d like to revisit it again soon but time, at present, does not permit…
Thinking of the Pascha Nostrum (text here at bottom of the page for those unfamiliar…) here’s a beautiful “Cast out the old leaven” from a German epistolary written in the waning years of the 10th century.
Our Easter Vigil experience was, overall, a pretty good one. It was very cold (for here) and very early when we got up and it was a challenge to get the little ones dolled up in their Easter finery and out the door to make it by 6 AM. It didn’t happen either. That’s ok–we were close enough to on time to get to file past the new fire and to hear “The light of Christ!” as the Paschal candle disappeared into the church several hundred people ahead of us…
I would have been worried about not getting seats except ours are perpetually saved by ingrained years of habit on the part of other churchgoers; Lil’ G is really good in church–when she can see what’s going on. Everybody’s trained not to sit in the first few pews–so that’s where we headed and, sure enough, there was space.
There were only 3 readings and no psalms (choir anthems, rather) but minor nit-pickiness aside it was a good celebration. I busted the bell-cluster M put together for me by over-vigorous ringing during the Gloria… The sermon was good–it stayed focused on Easter and the resurrection and the power of the living Jesus which was just right for the occasion. The only real hitch for us was when Lil’ G refused to receive Eucharist from the lead cleric (more of a large-man-with-beard thing than a church-politics thing).
Lamb dinner at home followed. It was nice to enjoy an Easter service as a family. I imagine we’ll have very few of these in the coming years…
The only liturgical oddity from Triduum I’ll note was the Veneration of the Cross. M and I are quite attached to the rite, it being a major academic interest of hers, but this one was very…well…protestant. A large cross was processed to the chancel, but then we just stood there and stared at it while the choir sang a number of anthems. No prostrations or kneeling before it, no kissing of it, we got to look but not touch–the rite just felt strange and disembodied.
One of the major changes that the American ’79 BCP wrought was a look Eastward. The mainstream of BCP tradition was that of the Western Church as filtered through the Sarum Rite. Furthermore, the previous great movement towards Big-T Tradition–the various parts of the Anglo-Catholic movement–took the high medieval West as their paradigm. Something that I’ve heard from the time I started frequenting Episcopal Churches is that you don’t kneel during Easter. But what I’ve observed at many traditional churches–and even at a few liberal ones–is that the common culture is to kneel during the prayers of the People and after the Sanctus as usual.
We ran into this on Sunday. The congregation was split from what I could tell…
I’ve been told that the move to not kneel in Easter is an ancient decision of the Church codified in the Ecumenical Councils of which–according to Andrewes’ dictum–we recognize the first four (though most Anglo-Catholics retain the first seven…). I have to admit a certain degree of suspicion here, though. One of the things I’ve noted in the VII revision and its Protestant offspring is a desire to de-emphasize the penitential and to emphasize the joy and rejoicing throughout the Christian year. Insofar as this is a reaction against an overly sober and somber way of being the people of God, I’d agree. But, like many things, I want to make sure the pendulum doesn’t swing to far. Get too far on the other side and we capitulate to the cultural message that we’re all just fine the way we are, no repenting, no introspection, no cultivation of virtue needed (and when in doubt, blame somebody else…). So I got curious about this and thought I’d look it up…
Now, what I had in mind was John Cassian’s comments. This is what he says in the Conferences:
But it is now time to follow out the plan of the promised
discourse. So then when Abbot Theonas had come to visit us in our cell during
Eastertide after Evensong was over we sat for a little while on the ground and
began diligently to consider why they were so very careful that no one should
during the whole fifty days either bend his knees in prayer or venture to fast
till the ninth hour, and we made our inquiry the more earnestly because we had
never seen this custom so carefully observed in the monasteries of Syria. (Conf. XXI.11)
What I’ve taken away from this is that not kneeling during Easter was a custom assiduously observed among the desert monastic communities in Egypt–but apparently not in Palestine and maybe other places as well (Rome?).
In essence, this seems to recommend what I’ve received, to wit, not kneeling during Easter was an ancient custom practiced in the time of the Fathers particularly in the East.
So far, so good.
But then there’s the reference to the Ecumenical Councils… Here’s what we find in the canons of the First Ecumenical Council in Nicea:
Canon XX
Forasmuch as there are certain
persons who kneel on the Lord’s Day and in the days of Pentecost,
therefore, to the intent that all things may be uniformly observed
everywhere (in every parish), it seems good to the holy Synod that
prayer be made to God standing.Ancient Epitome of Canon XX.
On Lord’s days and at Pentecost all must pray
standing and not kneeling. (First Ecumenical Council, Canon XX)
[As a note, it must be said that “Pentecost” was used as the name of the season between the Day of Resurrection and the Day of Pentecost (cf Tertullian).]
Hmmm… This does mention not kneeling during the whole 50 days–but also on every Sunday! While I’ve heard the first part of the custom proclaimed, I’ve not heard this–nor would I want to, really. I find kneeling to be a very effective way of kinesthetically experience the liturgy and it does help the proper attitude of supplication. I think the key to remember here is the principle of balance. This canon assumes a culture of near constant liturgical activity with numerous prostrations every single day. For them, then, not kneeling or prostrating themselves was a celebratory shift from a more penitential norm. But that’s so not our case… When I say the Office by myself I sit, not kneel, and in my experiences of the Office in community at Smokey Mary we didn’t kneel either. For us to obey the canon’s letter seems to miss its spirit in terms of kneeling and prostrations.
The canon’s explicit spirit isn’t about kneeling, though. It’s about liturgical uniformity. I find this interesting particularly in light of Cassian’s comments above: he was writing about a hundred years after Nicea… Whatever uniformity the council hoped to establish didn’t take.
So where does that leave us? Well, it means that:
So, if you’re going to try and use this custom in your parish, it’s really not a good idea to appeal to the council. (Here’s where my earlier suspicions come in to play about motive…) Furthermore, competing precedents show no clear voice on the matter from the practice of the early church. There’s no reason why, all other things being equal, East should trump West.
My personal feeling? Actually, I think I’m for not kneeling during Easter…(but for kneeling the rest of the time, naturally). I think our current problem in the church is forgetting that Easter is fifty days long. We are able to remember that Lent is forty days, but have misplaced the fact that Easter is fifty… Things like using the Pascha Nostrum as the invitatory at Morning Prayer and standing at Mass do actually help with this by shifting our routine for the length of the season. But we should teach accordingly–that is, tell people why we’re doing it and how it ties in with a proper and joyful remembrance of the resurrection…which is the point of this whole exercise anyway…
A junior colleague of mine stopped me in the hall after a class we teach together and wanted to get my advice on the history of New Testament interpretation. He’s in the usual graduate seminar that surveys such things. Now, my program is such that it actually gives an entire semester to the pre-Reformation history of interp. I don’t think most other programs do this, considering such “pre-critical” readings as not useful for modern NT scholars. Anyway, he’s been assigned to present on medieval monastic interp and want to pick my brain for a bit. His first question was essentially that which any NT scholar would ask: “They’re just reading the Fathers and using that, right?”
My answer was a classic yes–but no. It took a while…
In the aftermath, I was thinking through how I would go about teaching medieval monastic exegesis to try and communicate just what was going on. Here’re some initial thoughts:
It’s complicated. And, in many ways, this is my chapter 3–to lay all of this out in a (more or less) comprehensible fashion.
One of the major themes that I see running through my pedagogical attempts is interpretation and appropriation through recontextualization. That is, yeah, they used patristic material–but in a different way from which it was intended which has the effect of altering its purpose so the same text is acting in a new way and producing a new result.
Another major theme I see is reinforcing the alien nature of the interpretive culture. This kind of interpretation is not about a guy at a desk with a book. Its about a communal experience and embodiment of the text. There’s a reason why so much of the monastic exegesis can be classified as “moral”–it’s because a major focus was not on “thinking thoughts” about the text but rather on how to put the text into practice. Maybe what we label the “moral sense” might be better labeled “the sense capable of being embodied”…
