Showing posts with label jerusalem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jerusalem. Show all posts

Monday, December 15, 2014

Judaism & the Pauline Rite

Elsewhere we have cited Jean Guitton's radio interview in which he stated his friend, Papa Montini, aimed to approximate the Roman rite with the "Calvinist Mass." To many Catholics of the age, the transition from Latin to vernacular, from orientation to versus populum, and from chant to hymns appeared to mirror the process of de-Catholicizing England and the Germanic countries during the Reformation. The common perception that the Pauline Mass was inspired, in whole or part, by protestantism is integral to several studies of the new liturgy, notably Michael Davies' Pope Paul's New Mass and Anthony Cekada's Work of Human Hands. Ecumaniacs of the 1960s and 1970s egged on the Church about her sudden convergence with protestantism and her disregard for her past. There is a sliver of truth to this narrative, but it is on the whole a simplistic reduction for those looking to ignore what really happened in the 20th century.

The new liturgy is a baked outcome of a strange batter of ingredients: clerical lethargy, boredom with the devotional culture, Jansenism, Modernism, pro-protestant ecumenism, neo-Scholastic minimalism and focus with form-matter-intent, an archaeologist obsession with the "early Church" (whatever that was), and, we often forget, Judaism.

The Second World War and Holocaust had just ended. Religious scholarship of both Christianity and Judaism returned to European academia. Modern religious scholarship, like most bad things (Nazism, Communism, protestantism, Wagner, and beer) comes from Germany. In the 19th century linguistic scholarship boomed in Germany and, with it, textual criticism of Christian and Jewish literature. The consensus held in academic circles corresponded to the biases of academic circles at the time against religion. They held the New Testament books to be second and third century divinizations of an historically doubtful Jewish rabbi with a simply message of peace. Early Christianity was re-imagined as a simplistic, communitarian potluck devoid of strong clergy. Judaism did not escape unscathed, either.

One cannot really say that the Rabbinical Judaism of today is the Judaism of Christ's age. Since the 19th century people have understood the synagogue to the Jewish equivalent of a church and the rabbi to be the equivalent of a priest. The synagogue is the worship house and the rabbi leads the prayer rites and provides the community with instruction. That is certainly modern Judaism, the Judaism those wishing to return the Church to her primitive roots sought to imitate, but it betrays an ignorance of first century Judaism.

When one reads of the question of the Canon of Scripture, one finds numerous debates which revolve around which books Christ quotes to which people. The Pharisees, Saducees, and Hellenistic Jews accepted different books ranging from the five Mosaic books alone to the Greek books contained in the Septuagint. These points did not make Hellenistic Jews any less Jewish than the Pharisees. What defined a Jew at the time was ethnic origin, the observance of the Mosaic commandments, and one's relationship to the Temple. This last point cannot be ignored in any way. Jerusalem was a temple surrounded by a city, not a city housing  temple. The Temple was where God's Chosen People worshipped Him according to laws and rites revealed to them by Him through special prophets and continued with the aid of the Levitical priesthood. The rest was important, but additional. The Rabbinical model filled the abyss of a void created when the Temple was destroyed in 70, Jerusalem was destroyed in 135, and Jew expelled from Palestine until 1948. Judaism, to survive, moved from a Temple model to a synagogue model. Formerly, synagogues were akin to community and educational centers with a religious function. Rabbis were not strictly necessary. "Rabbi" was a generic term for a preacher, sometimes educated, sometimes not. The rabbi found himself in the synagogue eventually, expounding on the codified Hebrew Scriptures to members of a scattered community in some remote part of the Diaspora, far from Jerusalem. The priesthood, the place of worship, and the state were replaced with teacher, local community, and minority status. Imagine, as a Catholic, being trapped in some isolate part of northern China with some other Catholics and no priest. On Sundays, you gather as a group and perhaps get some spiritual advice from a particularly devout member of the circle. This is what happened to the Jewish people.




That Rabbinical Judaism influenced Christianity cannot be doubted. St. Paul came from the Pharisaical tradition that spawned the Rabbinical movement, a student himself of Rabban Gamaliel (rabban was a title of high status among rabbis). This influence is evident in St. Paul's epistolary and preaching style, which lived on in the Apostolic Fathers. This influence is not evident in the Patristic and Apostolic era's liturgical praxis because it did not exist. When one reads early accounts of the Christian house liturgies, one is struck at the level of organization (how many priests and deacons concelebrate, who houses the Eucharist, how many plates are used, who takes Communion to the sick etc). While the particular practices have either faded or been absorbed into the traditions of Rome, Byzantium, Antioch, Syria, Armenia, Alexandra and the others that come to us today, a clear taxis emerged. They worshipped in houses rather than grand edifices because houses were what was available to them. When Christianity emerged from the Diocletian persecution's catacombs and entered the Constantinian sun, the believers built grand churches and consecrated them as the Temples were consecrated. More recent scholarship by Margaret Barker and Laurence Hemming reveals that the Temple, not the synagogue, was the template the early—and certainly medieval—Christians sought to emulate. Hemming's Liturgy as Revelation even notes the strong textual parallels between the Roman Mass and Office for the Dedication of a Church (created c.500 for the consecrated of the Pantheon as "St. Mary and the Martyrs) and the previous Temple, as well as with the heavenly Jerusalem to come. The Church's rite are the maturation and fulfillment of the Temple rites, which prefigured Christ's perfect Sacrifice, a Sacrifice made present again on the altars of the Church. The priesthood is no longer Levitical, but Christ's. The Temple is no longer limited to one physical space because the Sacrifice of Christ can be renewed anywhere. 

The spiritual archaeologists, seeking a plain and communitarian "early Church," erroneously took Rabbinical Judaism as the normative model rather than the Temple Judaism which prefigured Christ and which He fulfilled. In doing so, they took the parish rather than the cathedral as the normative setting for the liturgy. They took the reduced parish liturgy rather than episcopal celebration as the normative standard. And they took an earthy community rather than a heavenly one as the normative attendees. Unfortunately, bad thoughts do not die with those who think them.

In related news, Anthony Cekada is trying to get his Work of Human Hands back into print. To bring attention to this endeavor he has returned to making one chapter summary videos on YouTube. I find Cekada's research very valuable, particularly with regard to the figures around the reform process and the variable parts of the new Mass (orations and the lectionary). Still, one gets the same trite words about Modernism vs. "traditional" (neo-Scholastic Latin moral) theology one finds among those whose knowledge of theology begins with St. Thomas' Summa and whose scope is limited to the Roman patriarchate. His latest video, below, provides invaluable information when he is not calling Eastern Christians "woolly" and "schismatic" without qualification. If readers have time, I recommend his earlier videos on the reform process, "Adroit Choices, Giant Voices," and the offertory. His sly style is both entertaining and accessible thanks to his helpers, Fr. Chuck and Fr. Retreaux.


Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Good Friday Re-Visited

The Rad Trad's most viewed post is his summary of the pre-Pius XII rites for Good Friday, accompanied by photographs from a celebration by the Institute of Christ the King in 2003 at their seminary. What the Rad Trad neglected to mention is that a noble custom, now often out of practice, of "deposing" the Corpus of the Lord from the Crucifix often followed the Mass of the Pre-Sanctified on Good Friday. The Corpus would then be buried in a "sepulcher" in a manner akin to the epitaphios in the Byzantine rite, which has maintained their venerable liturgical rite. The Rad Trad has discovered what such a rite might look like. What follows below is the tale end of such a deposition ceremony on Good Friday, 2013 at the Franciscan monastery in Jerusalem (this particular Franciscan community runs the Latin segment of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher). The Corpus is given the customary funerary rites, then wrapped in a sheet, and reposed in a tomb. This seems to "drive home the point" better than the customary Stations of the Cross, albeit not all parishes will have a side chapel large enough to create a sepulcher.


 

Friday, April 19, 2013

Interesting Article on Old Holy Week

Many readers have viewed our page of images explaining the traditional Mass of the Pre-Sanctified on Good Friday and the old Vesperal Mass of Holy Saturday. Interest in the older rites, which pre-date the 1962 liturgy, is clearly on the rise in the Roman rite of the Church.

Good Friday sepulchre in Jerusalem
It behooves us to be aware of the history of these rites and their continued usage beyond 1956. After the introduction of the Pauline rites in 1969, 1970, and 1975, many clergy at or near retirement age switched back to the old Mass and, even though they technically old had permission to use the 1967 rites, used those rites practiced before the pontificate of Pope Pius XII, when the modern liturgical reform gained steam. Anyone who remembers the early days of the Institute of Christ the King or the Society of St. Pius X recalls that they normally used the traditional Holy Week, too. I would not be surprised if some local clergy even continued using the old Holy Week, confident the Pian books were a passing fad. Pope John XXIII celebrated the old Good Friday at least once, in 1959, and ordered certain traditional practices, like the hymn Vexilla Regis, to introduced into the Pian Holy Week. It begs the question: was John XXIII even using the Pian rites as Patriarch of Venice?

But there is one church in Latin Christendom that observed the old Holy Week until the 1990s without interruption: the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (or of the Resurrection, if you prefer) in Jerusalem. I came across a news article from 1998 detailing the first practice of the new Holy Week rites, with photographs. The majority of the article details the new rites, neither describing nor depicting the old, yet there is an explanation of why the old praxis continued. Apparently internal bickering with the other residents of the Church, the Greek Orthodox and the Armenian Oriental Orthodox, prevented the implementation of the reforms. An indult to continue the old practice was granted and a commission to install the new ceremonies did not form until 1986! The actual new rites were not observed until the next decade when, in 1997, the old rites were celebrated for the last time. You can read the article here.

The difficulty in effecting the change does not surprise me, nor should it surprise anyone appraised of the disputes that transpire in Christendom's most sacred site. Franciscans ran the Church during and after the Crusades, only to cede most of it back to Eastern Churches who, when they do not dispute with the Latins, dispute with each other. The Greeks and Armenians typically have one big brawl a year, normally utilizing the most noxious of ancient weapons: the broom. The Immovable Ladder summarizes the past and current state of affairs.

I would be interested in knowing how the old rites were practiced after the last changes legislated by Paul VI, namely the new Mass and Office. Did they hold the new Easter Vigil at 9am? Did they read all the texts and perform all the ceremonies in the old order, with the new Mass at the end?—and with the Pauline Vespers? Was it the "Tridentine" arrangement outright? Fascinating for liturgical history buffs.