Thursday, November 29, 2012

Responsories of Advent



From the season of Advent, which marks the new liturgical year, through at least the end of Epiphany, the theme of our blog articles has shifted to music as experienced in the Episcopal-Anglican tradition.  The intent behind this series is to heighten awareness of why music is crucial and necessary in our practice of faith and how it enriches our lives in worship. Articles will examine structures of music, composers, histories and more.  During the season of Advent we will explore the contemplative nature of our traditions as they are manifested in music including responsories, canticles and psalmody, and antiphons.

The season of Advent follows, very generally, the pattern of a day of worship as practiced in the Anglican tradition.  During the middle ages, a day of worship began at 2am with Matins. The day progressed with offices of worship every three or four hours: Lauds at 5am, Prime at 6am, Terce at 9am, Sexts at noon, Nones at 3pm, Vespers before dark, Compline right before retiring.  The Anglican tradition combines the morning offices of Matins, Lauds, Prime and Terce into a single Morning Prayer read at dawn. Often, Noonday Prayer is read when the sun is at its zenith. Evening Prayer replaces Vespers and is read at dusk or twilight, and Compline ends the day with a short office of prayers.  But it’s the structure and types of prayers that are said during each of these offices that sets the pattern for Advent. The first Sunday of Advent is represented with Morning Prayer and expresses the hope and expectation of the coming of Christ, not only at Christmas, but his coming again. The second Sunday is reflected by Noonday Prayer and the admonition to prepare and to work God’s labor.  The third Sunday of Advent strays from this pattern but only slightly, for this is Mary’s Sunday. Evening Prayer includes the Magnificat as part of the general thanksgiving for the day. The fourth Sunday of Advent is signified by Compline at which time all work and preparation is done and whatever has been left undone shall either wait or be forgiven.

This first week of Advent reflects the sentiments of Morning Prayer.  Morning Prayer acknowledges the beginning of the day. Emerging light expresses the hope and expectation of what may come during the course of the day.  One element of the office of Morning Prayer is the responsory format where the Officiant opens with a sentence followed by a response from the people and Psalms might be read by alternating verses between the leader and people. A responsory, musically speaking, has two parts—the respond or refrain and the verse (a verse being a single line of poetry, not to be confused with a stanza that may include more than one sentence). This theme is picked up in the music of the first Sunday of Advent.  One of the oldest Christian rites in the Anglican Church is the “Sarum Rite” which originated in Salisbury Cathedral in the 11th century.  Little remains of this highly ornamented and ceremonial order of service today, although our Book of Common Prayer builds much of its foundation on the Sarum Rite.  Remnants of the Sarum Rite can be found in the propers of Advent as they vary quite dramatically from the Roman Catholic rite.  The only other evidence of the Sarum Rite that remains traditional in our worship today is the responsory Aspiciebam which is taken from the Book of Isaiah and is sung on the first Sunday of Advent.

Perhaps the most famous arrangement of the Aspiciebam is G.P. Palestrina’s Matin Responsory. (You can listen to a beautiful rendition of the Matin Responsory as arranged by David Willcocks and performed by the St. Paul’s Cathedral Choir of London when you click on the highlighted link.) Responsories are chanted, generally using the Gregorian chant format where verses are sung intoned, that is, on a single note tone or a repetition of one tone, while the responses or refrains are freestyle compositions. As you listen to the Matin Responsory, you will notice this device although the arrangement you’ll hear is not a “true” responsory that alternates between a cantor and the people.


Qui bene cantat, bis orat.
An example of a modern setting of a responsory is one that can be heard this Sunday (Dec. 2) at Trinity Church.  The choir and congregation will sing the refrain of My Soul in Stillness Waits while a tenor cantor will sing the verses. The Kyrie also be sung as a responsory, as is usual. The significance of this style of music is twofold. The variation between freestyle composition and intonation creates a meditative atmosphere that alternates between the solemnity and reverence of piety and penitention and the laudatory joy of praise and thanksgiving. Further, the structure of the responsory itself is prayerful within the context of music. The musical language speaks spiritually when words are inadequate. As the saying goes, “He prays twice who sings.”

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Lo, His Majesty, King Christ!


Behold, Christ the King

When you hear the phrase “Christ the King” it conjures images of a stately and serene Jesus wearing a crown, maybe even holding a scepter and orb.  The images we have derive from impressions of post-ascension Jesus—all of Jesus’ pain and suffering of the passion and resurrection, the mystery and wonder of the ascension are over. Now he sits, be-robed and austerely dignified, on his stately throne and (almost literally if we were that devout and malleable) impresses the hell out of us forever and ever, amen.  Of course, this was the intent behind Pope Pius XI’s Quas Primas in which he established the Solemn Feast of Christ the King in 1925.

In response to increasing secularism in which God played a decreasing role in the rule of Christian life, Pope Pius XI instituted the Feast of Christ the King for the Sunday before All Saints Day.  With the revision of the calendar in 1969, the feast was moved to the last Sunday in Ordinary Time—the Sunday before Advent, bringing the chronology of Christ full circle, from alpha to omega. Pius XI felt it imperative the Christians recall that Christ Jesus by his divinity is ruler of all creation and that humankind was ordained to live by Christ’s rule. The pope had three major hopes and expectations for this Holy Feast Day: first, that the Church was founded by Christ and therefore ruled by Christ’s governance and not subject to governments and laws of nations; second, that government rulers and leaders recall that they, as well as all laity, are first and foremost subject to Christ’s rule before any human-made law and must take into account Christ’s law when making human laws; and third that all people remember that Christ reigns in our hearts and minds and bodies, and actions and choices of our daily lives must reflect this. You can read the Quas Primus by clicking on the hyperlink and perhaps get a better understanding of the pope’s intentions.

It seems an odd idea to connect Christ’s kingship to a structure of governance that in these modern times has lost its power and significance. Kingship and royalty do not garner the respect and awe that once held sway. In fact, it is a form of rule that has developed an attitude of abhorrence. Understand, though, that kingly rule at an individual human being’s hands is quite another matter from Kingly rule of Christ Jesus. Perhaps it is unfortunate that our linguistic limitations preclude us applying a better term than “king”, yet all the definitions and connotations pertaining to the word are apt for Christ the King: supreme ruler, chief authority of all people.[1] (Incidentally, the root of our word king shares the same etymology as the word “kin.”  Think about that!) The implication which bears the abhorrence is that said individual is qualified in any way to have such dominion over us.  Yet, Christians (and, frankly, all monotheistic believers) hold this truth, that God as the creator of all does know all and does have dominion over us.  Christ, being God, therefore does hold kingly power. This is what Pope Pius XI was driving at!

Lest we still balk at the idea of Christ being “supreme ruler,” it behooves us to recall just what it means to live under Christ’s rule. He only gave us two rules.  Shouldn’t be that hard, right? “Love God with all your heart, soul and mind. Love your neighbors as yourselves.” (And aren’t we lucky that he didn’t command us to love our neighbors as God loves them? He cut us a break there!) Christ’s rule by example is one of humility and servitude. In the hands of a wholly human man, kingship is prone to an all-consuming power and tendency towards corruption.  In the hands of the divine Jesus, kingly power is a love so great and so humbling that the king becomes the servant even to being the sacrificed.  To be a King, you must be willing to love your people so much that you would become one of them, that you would bleed for them, that as a last ditch effort to save them all you would die for them.  How do you not love a king like that? How do you not want to follow such a king?
Behold, Your King (Caravaggio, c.1605)

[1] It’s interesting to note that several dictionaries reference “king” with a lower case “k” as a separate entry from “King” with a capital “K”. Those definitions for “King” with the capital always define this word as “Christ or God”. This implies the editors recognize a tacit difference between an earthly king and Christ the King.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Medieval Saints Week



This is a week full of veneration for minor Saints from the Middle Ages.  There’s a king, a queen and a princess.  There are bishops, priest and abbesses as well.  They lived over a 600 year period between 600ad and 1250ad.  It’s a week that suggests a deep reverence and piety among the educated classes during the medieval period.  Either that or Popes of that age wanted to promote such reverence in the laity by canonizing role models!  But regardless, this week, we’ll survey these medieval saints.
   
November 15: Albert the Great, Friar and Bishop of Ratisbon (c. 1200 – 1280ad)—Albert was one of the great thinkers of the Middle Ages who is famed for his advocacy of the coexistence of natural science and religion and his vast breadth of knowledge.  His interests and innovations ranged over a liberal spectrum of ideas including theology, philosophy, psychology, natural sciences and arts.  He was a tremendous influence on his student Thomas Aquinas and other great thinkers of his age, including Roger Bacon, and was beloved for his gift of teaching.  Albert became a friar in the Dominican Order in 1223. During his life as a friar of the order, he was given three major tasks.  The first was an appointment as regent of studies at a newly created Dominican University in Cologne.  Later, he was made provincial prior for the German-speaking province of the order because, oh yeah, he also was fluent in a number of languages.  This task required a great deal of travel, visiting each abbey, convent, monastery and parish within the order.  The third great task was to become Bishop of Ratisbon and to reform the abuses of that diocese.  Through the urging of Pope Urban IV, Albert became a major proponent for the Crusades.  He was canonized and made a Doctor of the Church (one of only 35) in 1931. He’s listed on the Anglican calendar only in some places.

November 16: Margaret, Queen of Scotland (c. 1045 – 1093ad)—Most of us are probably more familiar with Margaret’s husband, Malcolm III, who was made famous in Shakespeare’s play Macbeth.  Margaret is arguably Scotland’s favorite of saints.  She was the daughter of the exiled King of Wessex and born in Hungary.  She grew up in the very religious environment of the Hungarian court, and the piety she developed in those formative years remained a defining aspect of her character throughout her life, and even her children’s lives.  Her family returned to England, when her father became heir presumptive to Edward the Confessor.  When he died shortly after their arrival, the family’s safety was once again threatened by the Norman Conquest of 1066. This was when Margaret arrived in Scotland. Her mother and siblings sought refuge from King Malcolm III, and the introduction of Margaret to the king is one of the great romances of English/Scots history. Together, the king and queen raised a happy family of eight children (six sons and two daughters, many of whom became kings and queens in their own right).  Margaret was responsible for a number of religious reforms and charities in Scotland, and indeed the greater Church, including establishing the beginning of Lent with Ash Wednesday (where previously, Lent began the Monday following Ash Wednesday).  She introduced the Benedictines to Scotland and had built the Abbey of Dunfermline.  She died a mere three days after being told of the death of her husband and eldest son in the battle of Alnwick in 1093.  She was canonized in 1250 and is venerated as a saint in the Anglican Church.

November 17: Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln (c. 1135 – 1200ad)—Until the Reformation, Hugh of Lincoln was the most well-known English Saint after Thomas Beckett.  Although Hugh was born into a royal family in France, he  literally grew up in a Benedictine Abbey and became a member of the Carthusian Order and joined the Grande Chartreuse (the mother house of the Carthusians, an order that takes a vow of silence and observes strict statutes).  When Henry II of England agreed to pay penance for the murder of Bishop Thomas Beckett in 1170, he was supposed to go on a crusade.  But since that proved an unviable option, he agreed instead to establish a  Carthusian Charterhouse—the first in England—in Lincoln.  He insisted the Grande Chartreuse sent Hugh.  When Hugh arrive in Lincoln, it was to monks living in shacks and no sign of a charterhouse in the works.  He chided the king for not living up to his promises.  Hugh called for a council of bishops to review the state of the church in England and advocated the empty bishoprics be filled, one of them being the Diocese of Lincoln.  Hugh, then was made bishop in 1186. Hugh was rather instrumental in keeping Henry II in line.  Hugh did not suffer the same fate as Thomas Beckett primarily because he was far more tactful and diplomatic in his dealings with the king.   But the bishop and king agreed on very little. Saint Hugh is often depicted in art with a swan.  This is in reference to a sweet story of how a swan took to following Bishop Hugh everywhere he went.  The swan had imprinted on the bishop and followed him from Stowe to Lincoln and was his constant companion, even keeping guard over the bishop while he slept.  The legend says that assassins sent by King Henry II were thwarted by God’s swan.  Hugh died from complications from an illness in 1200 and was canonized in 1220ad.

November 18: Hilda, Abbess of Whitby (614ad – 680)—Hilda was born into the nobility and raised in a king’s court.  She was instructed by Paulinus and Augustine in preparation of her baptism when she 13.  She spent 33 years of her life living a secular life in the court of East Anglia.  Upon the king’s death, she fled to live with her sister and planned to enter a convent in Gaul.  But Bishop Aidan of Lindisfarne called her to Northumbria and it was there that she became a nun in a small monastic order.  Bishop Aidan soon appointed her as Abbess of Hartlepoole as she was gifted in areas of administration and teaching.  Hilda had a joyous enthusiasm for learning that was infectious.  Most of the monks under her tutelage were eligible to become ordained priests, and she was responsible for the education of three bishops.  But she also had strong feelings about educating the common folk as well.  She encouraged a young herder to pursue his poetry, and Caedmon became one of the greatest poets of the Gospel of his time. Hilda founded the Abbey of Whitby in 657 and lasted until Henry VIII ordered the dissolution of monasteries in 1540.  Originally called Streoneshalh, the Abbey followed the Celtic tradition of monastic life.  But in  664, the Synod of Whitby determined that the order of the Church would follow the Roman style and abolish the Celtic style.  Abbess Hilda agreed for expediency, but continued to adhere to her favored Celtic traditions whenever possible.  Hilda died in 680 and was canonized “pre-congregation,” that is, before investigative practices for canonization were observed.

November 19: Princess Elizabeth of Hungary (1207 -1231ad)—Elizabeth was the daughter of King Andrew II of Hungary.  Even as a young child, Elizabeth keenly felt the plight of the destitute and needy.  She gave whatever she could, whenever she could to those who had nothing.  At the age of 14 she was married to 20-year-old Louis, Landgrave of Thuringia (“Landgrave” is a title given to a count who answers directly to the Holy Roman Emperor rather than a ducal intermediary).  By all accounts, theirs was a happy marriage wherein her charitable whims were not only indulged but encouraged by her husband.  They had three children together in the short nine years of their marriage, which ended when Louis died from plague incurred during his travels to Italy.  Elizabeth would periodically empty the coffers in order to build social and charitable institutions, mainly hospitals but also schools, orphanages and shelters for the homeless and impoverished.  Her husband allowed her to spend her dowry on her charities, believing that giving away his wealth would bring eternal reward in Heaven.  When her husband died, life changed dramatically for Elizabeth.  Louis brother, Heinrich, was infuriated by the “waste of her dowry” and by her “extravagances” and ordered Elizabeth cast out of the court and her children removed from her care.  With nowhere to go, Inquisitor Konrad von Marburg was appointed to her defense. His treatment of her held her to standards of behavior impossible to maintain.   Ultimately, the last few years of her life after Louis’ death were harsh and extremely limited.  Her family was ordered to give her a subsistence allowance, but that too was under Konrad’s control.  When she had nothing material to give to her charitable causes, she gave her time and her labor, working with the sick and the needy in the hospitals she had established.  She died from illness brought on by deprivation in 1231 and was canonized four years later.  To this day, St. Elizabeth is one of the most beloved Saints in Hungary.

November 20: Edmund, King of East Anglia (841 – 870ad)—England has some truly wonderful and comic place names like Tongue-of-Gangsta, Newton Unthank, Cockup Bottom and Assloss.  Most names have a reason and meaning behind them that is more than mere sport.  Like Bury St. Edmunds.  In this case, “bury” derives from the Viking Danelaw that was established by the annexing of England by King Alfred the Great.  Along the border, fortifications were built and given names with suffixes like –borough, -burg and –bury.  These suffixes are rooted in the old Germanic word that means “fortress, shelter, protection.”  It is from this same root that the word “bury” (as in what one does with a corpse) derives.  So it’s not entirely tongue-in-cheek that the town of Bury St. Edmunds is so called because there rests the body of King Edmund the Martyr.  Edmund was king of East Anglia just before Alfred the Great became King of Wessex.  Little is known of King Edmund other than the story of his martyrdom perpetuated by Abbo of Fleury, a French monk born nearly 200 years after Edmunds death.  The invading Vikings raided and pillaged their way through England until they came to East Anglia where young Edmund ruled.  Edmund was a very devout Christian and ruled with equity and piety.  The Viking leader, Hinguar, offered Edmund the chance to continue to rule in peace if he would acknowledge the Viking supremacy and renounce Christ.  Edmund refused.  He told Hinguar the story of Jesus’ Passion and said that like Christ, he would lay down his arms.  Hinguar had Edmund beaten with cudgels.  Still, Edmund would not renounce Christ.  The Viking leader had Edmund tied to a tree and flayed with whips.  But Edmund remained faithful, calling for Jesus’ mercy.  Like Sebastian, Edmund was riddled with arrows from the Viking army, yet he would not renounce his faith in Christ Jesus.  Finally, in blind fury, Hinguar ended Edmund’s ceaseless praising of Christ by striking the young king’s head from his body.  Rather than quelling the Christian community, the death of their king caused the people of East Anglia to rise against the invaders.  It made it easy for them to ally with King Alfred to force back the Vikings into what became the Danelaw.  Edmund was buried in Beodericsworth which became Bury St. Edmunds.  

From this week’s plethora of saints, we learn of the fortitude of Christian faith in the first millennium of Western Christianity.  We see that it is a faith of action and growth. Each saint lived the words of Christ in learning, charity and love of neighbor.  Each saint is venerated as a model for Christians of all times to emulate, a model of Christian devotion.  While their stories have softened and become romanticized through the ages, the foundation of truth in their histories is easily seen in what remains important in the telling.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

The Feast of The Episcopal Church in America (At Least, It Should Be)

The Episcopal Church of the United States of America celebrates a significant date this week.  Two Hundred twenty-eight years ago, on November 14, 1784, Samuel Seabury was consecrate First American Bishop and the bestowal of the Episcopal Church in the newly established country was made manifest.  Actually, the history of our church in America is a bit more convoluted than that, and pinpointing a “birthdate” for the Episcopal Church in America is far more debatable.

Part of this convoluted history includes the curiosity that while Samuel Seabury was consecrated the First American Bishop, he was not the first Presiding Bishop—that honor goes to William White (who also has to distinction of being the only Presiding Bishop to serve twice and to serve both the shortest term—67 days, and the longest term—40 years and 313 days).

Wait, what?

The story goes something like this.  The Church of England was permanently planted  in Jamestown, Virginia in 1607.  The very young colonies belonged (pretty much) to England and so the Church of England was also the Church of the colonies.  Since there was no separation of church and state in England, in order that the church in the colonies could be governed, parliament granted a charter to the Society of the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts (SPG) in 1649.  Thus, the Church of England was established in the colonies.  However, in order to create dioceses, bishops were required to be consecrated and sent on mission from England.  During the American Revolution, sympathies trended more towards a separation from not only the Mother Country herself, but from the Mother Church as well.  In doing so, church structure and polity was leaning more and more toward a presbytery rather than an episcopacy (priest or elders leading the governance of the church rather than a hierarchy of bishops). 

But there was intrigue afoot!  A small group of clergy in Connecticut began to meet in secrecy and made the decision to remain loyal to the SPG and determined to keep the episcopal organization structure.  But after the war, the SPG was no longer supported by the Church of England and a different organization was necessary—and fast if the episcopacy was to be maintained.  By 1783, conventions were regularly met in Philadelphia to organize the Episcopal Church in America.  Samuel Seabury was selected to go to England to be consecrated as the first bishop of America.  Now here rose a problem.  By canon law, any bishop of the Church of England had to swear fealty to the crown.  Having  just won the war of separation from England, that wasn’t going to happen.  But God works in mysterious ways.  It so happened that in Scotland, loyalty was to the deposed King James—not the reigning William and Mary in England.  So it was possible for Seabury to be consecrated legally in Scotland, thereby bypassing the pesky oath of allegiance that would not have gone over well with the new Americans.  Seabury had only to promise to use the Scottish Holy Eucharist rather than the English.  To which he responded in effect, "We'll see."

(Incidentally, the St. Andrew Cross in the Episcopal Church shield pays homage to the Scottish role in the consecration of Bishop Seabury.  The nine smaller crosses that make up the St. Andrew's Cross represent the first nine dioceses that adopted the constitution of our church. The red Cross of St. George represents the Church of England. The blue field in the upper left corner reflects the American flag. The colors not only represent the colors of all three countries that had a hand in the establishment of The Episcopal Church, but carry their own symbolism: red for the blood of Christ, blue for the mother--further symbolizing Mary, and white for purity.  The shield structure itself is not so much an homage to heraldry as it is a symbol of our faith that God will protect us as we stand behind the shield of the Church.) 

Meanwhile, back in the States, while the Constitution of the United States was being drafted, so was the constitution of the Episcopal Church being developed.  Bishop William White of the Diocese of Pennsyvania (who had not been consecrated until 1787) presided over those initial General Conventions and thus was our first Presiding Bishop.

Samuel Seabury was consecrated on November 14, 1784 and with his consecration came the bestowal of the church in America. Ultimately, with the consecration of William White, Samuel Provoost and James Madison (cousin to President James Madison), the episcopacy was organized wherein new bishops could be consecrated here in the new United States.  Rt. Rev. Thomas Claggett was the first bishop to be consecrated on American soil in 1790 and became the bishop of Maryland.

So Samuel Seabury was the first bishop of America.  Sort of.  And the American Episcopal Church's birthday is Nov. 14.  Sort of.  We're going with that since the calendar says so.  Happy 228th birthday, Episcopal Church of America!