December 19, 2012 Comments Off on O Come, O Come Emmanuel, A French Processionale, and John Mason Neale
On the 4th Sunday of Advent we sing one of the most beloved hymns of the Advent season, “O come, O come Emmanuel”. For me personally the text of this hymn is a summation of the observance and spirit of preparation and anticipation that is Advent, and the requisite final hymn for any annual observance of the season. It was even sung in my protestant parish when I was young, though mysteriously on Advent I. Even though I have rejected nearly all of the theology of that denomination, they did have good taste in music. Most, if not all of us, are familiar with the hymn text and can hum the familiar tune, but the origins of both the text and melody provide in interesting glimpse into our collective liturgical past. As we prepare for the Solemn Feast of the Nativity, let’s take a moment and reflect on the nearly 800 years of history that passed, while each year the texts were sung with quiet contemplation. Those familiar lines and tune which, like so many aspects of our familiar hymns, rituals, liturgies and other components of Anglican worship, meet where the centuries-old forms of worship in the pre-Reformation church intersect with the reformed Catholicism of the Oxford Movement with its interest in England’s Medieval liturgical and musical heritage, and our own 21-century expression of traditional worship.
Each verse of the Latin processional chant Veni, veni Emmanuel is a metric paraphrase of what are known as the “O” Antiphons, for the simple reason that they begin: O radix Jesse, O sapientia etc. The symbolism of each of the antiphons is beautifully explained by Sean Scheller in his contribution to the Advent blog, using the images found on the front of our gorgeous Advent cope made some years ago by the venerable Graham French. In the Catholic West the “O” Antiphons frame the Magnificat sung or recited at Vespers in the Roman Catholic or Evensong in the Anglican traditions during the octave, or eight days, prior to the Nativity. Each one is one of the names which are given to the Messiah, and also reference the prophecies of Isaiah. To make it even more interesting, the first letter of each after the “O” creates a reverse acrostic so that beginning with the last antiphon and working backward to the beginning – even more symbolism – it spells in Latin: Ero Cras: Tomorrow I come. Oddly, considering their widespread usage, the texts were not set chorally in a complete set until the 17th –century by Marc-Antoine Charpentier. In modern times the texts have received more attention by composers, Bob Chilcott, Arvo Pärt and Peter Hallock are among the contemporary composers who have set them.
The exact origin of the O Antiphon texts remains a mystery, but we do know of a few threads. The Roman Philosopher Boethius alludes to them as early as the 6th century, and they were in use in Roman liturgies within the next two centuries. The Anglo-Saxon poet Cynewulf (c.800) based four sections of his poem entitled Christ on the antiphons O Rex gentium, O Clavis David, O Oriens and O Emmanuel suggesting more than a passing familiarly. The metical version which is the basis for our version of five of the seven antiphons was in use in the 13th –century. They are less literal, abandoning the more gloomy aspects of the original texts replacing them with the more confident “Gaude, gaude Emmanuel” refrain as you can see in the text and translation below. Those of you who know the hymn tune by heart will be immediately struck by how easily the Latin words fit with the familiar melody.
An early version of the English hymn as we know it was included in The Hymnal Noted – Part II in 1852. The text was translated by the great John Mason Neale (1818-1866), a high-churchman whose invaluable work translating medieval hymn texts into English for modern usage is one of the largest single contributions to traditional hymnody in use in the church today. As a vocal advocate of the Oxford movement, Neale had to endure a good deal of opposition, including a fourteen years’ inhibition by his bishop. He translated the Eastern liturgies into English, and wrote a mystical and devotional commentary on the Psalms. He held to the belief that the truth was found in the mediaeval and orthodox theologies of the church and popular hymn composers such as Isaac Watts composed erroneous theological texts, and was an offence against good taste. Neale was little appreciated in his time, and received is Doctor of Divinity not in England but at Trinity College in Hartford Connecticut in 1860. He is best known as a hymn writer and, especially, translator, having enriched English hymnody with many ancient and mediaeval hymns translated from Latin and Greek. More than anyone else, he made English-speaking congregations aware of the centuries-old tradition of Latin, Greek, Russian, and Syrian hymns. The English Hymnal (1906) contains 63 translated hymns and six original hymns by Neale. His translations include a number of St. Luke’s favorites, all found in the Hymnal 1982 among them: All Glory, Laud, and Honor, Of the Father’s Heart Begotten, Sing, My Tongue, the Glorious Battle, and To Thee Before the Close of Day.
The Veni, veni Emmanuel tune was in use by the 13th century, found alternately in a manuscript in Portugal (now missing) and in a book of French processional chants. Although it its exact date of composition is unclear, the close relationship of text to melody suggests that either the tune was composed to fit the meter of the text, or they were composed together. The French Processionale book has the familiar hymn tune on a left-hand folio, with a complementary discantus part on the opposite folio. A lovely version of the hymn from the Processionale is found in the New Oxford Book of Carols (Andrew Parrott and Hugh Keyte, editors) and on the Taverner Choir’s Carol Album easily found on iTunes or Spotify. Take a moment to listen to the original version of the hymn, pause and reflect on the fact that like us, many who have come before have felt a similar attachment and sense of anticipation, preparation and awe in what are the last few days of the Advent before the coming each year of our Lord Jesus.
Click the link to hear the Tavner Consort perform Veni, Veni Emmanuel: Veni, Veni Emmanuel – Taverner Consort
– John Bradley
December 17, 2012 Comments Off on From the Altar Guild: The Symbolism of the Cope in the Advent Blue Set Week III
So now it’s the third Sunday of Advent the Sunday called Gaudete (Rejoice), as the Lord’s arrival is near. The Church wears rose-colored vestments as a sign of the joy we feel anticipating the birth of the Savior which is to come very soon. At St Luke’s, we wear what we have of a rose set (a chasuble, pulpit fall, burse, veil and our priests wear rose stoles). We also have rose-colored flowers today in the sanctuary.
In our exploration of the symbols on our Advent cope, we are up to the T for St Thomas whose feast day is December 21st and the sun for the remembrance of the Dayspring on December 22nd. .
December 21 – St. Thomas the Apostle – O THOMAS DIDIME
O Thomas Didymus, through Christ who suffered you to touch him, we entreat, you by your prayers for us on high, to aid us in our miseries, lest we be doomed with the lost when the judge appears.
December 21st is the traditional day of the martyrdom of the apostle. Sacred tradition says that Thomas was martyred in Mylapore, India having a spear thrust through him. The Mar Thoma Church of India is the legacy of the ministry of St Thomas. There is a Mar Thoma congregation in New York who used to meet on Sundays afternoon in the undercroft of Church of the Intercession uptown. I was there once as part of a Churches of New York Architecture Tour just after the Mar Toma congregation finished worship and, boy, could they could teach St Luke’s something about the use of incense. It was so smoky and they had finished the service almost 30 minutes before I was there and the undercroft certainly had an aura of sanctity.
I always find it a bit jarring to be thinking of Thomas, who has such a large a role in the Easter narratives, so close to Christmas. I don’t ever remember anyone named Thomas in any of the Christmas stories I have ever read. You know that the doubting Thomas story is the Gospel for the Sunday after Easter every year. Then again, the Thomas story is focused so much on the physicality of the Risen Jesus, when Jesus invites Thomas to reach in and feel his wounds, that it makes such perfect sense, as we get ready to celebrate the mystery of the Word-made-flesh remembering Thomas’ shining hour. Thomas is our reminder that the babe in Bethlehem grows up to be the Risen Jesus in the upper room who is my Lord and my God for us all.
December 22 – O ORIENS
O Dayspring, brightness of light everlasting and sun of righteousness: come and enlighten him who sits in darkness, and the shadow of death.
Dayspring is not a word that we use in everyday speech. I had to look up exactly what dayspring means. It is the time before the dawn when the horizon can be seen and perhaps the outline of some objects. In the liturgical life of the Church, it is the hour of Prime, the first prayers of the day. It is very early in the day and it can be a magical time when the light overtakes the darkness, the rising sun is anticipated well before it is actually seen or the heat of its rays are felt. It is a time of great possibilities, the day has just begun and anything is possible. This brings to my mind the passages from the Gospels that tell of the first Easter Day “after the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning” when the women went to the tomb of Jesus. So, once again, so close to Christmas I have Easter on my mind. I always think of Christmas as the miracle in the middle of the night while Easter is the miracle of the dawn.
Last week I told you one of the secrets of the sacristy that we have a purple low mass set for Advent. I remember many years ago the designer and creator of the set, Graham French, telling me that the set was meant for both Advent and Lent since it was purple with silver trim and so was a penitential set since it had no gold.
Next week we will hear about the last two symbols of the Advent cope.
December 10, 2012 § 2 Comments
So now it’s the second week of Advent. I want to talk some about the next two symbols on our Advent cope but first I would like to discuss the color of the cope. You know it’s blue! For many of us the color of Advent is purple but here at St Luke’s the color of Advent is blue. I noticed last week that many had purple on at church on the First Sunday of Advent so I hope no one is disappointed by the lack of purple.
I have always been told that blue vestments in Advent was a Sarum Rite usage so I thought I would check some sources on the use of blue vestments in Advent. I thought it would be an easy task, a fact checking that would take a few minutes. I was wrong. I could find nothing that says blue was the color of Advent in the Sarum. I found lots of rants written by priests of Rome against the use of blue vestments as illegal that makes the Protestant in me so proud that we use blue in Advent. In The Parson’s Handbook written by Percy Dearmer in 1899 (he was rector of the Church of St. Mary, Primrose Hill, London and a great champion of the Anglo-Catholic movement) lists from an inventory of Salisbury Cathedral in 1222 that there were vestments made of “blue silk”. So even in the 13th century someone somewhere was wearing blue vestments.
What does the color blue mean for us? There is a color called royal blue and I would suggest that it is the color of our Advent vestments. As the name suggests, it is the color worn by royalty. The Church is not uncomfortable with indentifying Jesus as a royal person and the descendent of kings and queens, as you can see from the next two symbols on our cope:
December 19 – O RADIX JESSE
O Root of Jesse, which stands for an ensign of the people, at whom kings shall shut their mouths, to whom the Gentiles shall seek: Come and deliver us.
This antiphon is represented by the symbol of a flower, a stylized rose, and in our view we can see the roots which give the flower life. Jesse, King David’s father, is the root and stock of Jesus.
December 20 – O CLAVIS DAVID
O Key of David and Scepter of the house of Israel: that opens and no man shuts, and shuts and no man opens: Come and bring the prisoner out of the prison house and him that sits in darkness, and in the shadow of death.
The second symbol is a key. Keys open locked doors and allow entry into places that have been locked, as Jesus is the way to the Father.
By the way, one of the secrets of the St. Luke’s sacristy is that we do have a low Mass set of vestments for Advent which is most defiantly purple but we keep it tucked away for another generation…for the 18 years I’ve been at St. Luke’s this set has been suppressed, as we say in Altar-Guild-speak. (A low Mass set for us is a chasuble, burse, veil and two stoles, a high mass set is a chasuble, dalmatic for the deacon, a tunicle for the sub-deacon, one or two copes, a burse, veil and two stoles.)
There are eight symbols, so we’re half-way through. Next week we’ll talk about two more of the cope’s symbols. Meanwhile, keep your eye pealed for the beauty and intricacy of this magnificent contribution to our communal spiritual life.
– Sean Scheller
December 3, 2012 § 2 Comments
We have been amazingly blessed at St Luke’s. One of these blessings is the vast array of vestments that we use during the liturgical seasons of the church year: we have our gold set for the Christmas season (our former rector used to call it the samurai set), we have the blue and white set for Eastertide, and the unbleached linen of our Lenten array, to name a few. Thanks to the talents of Graham French and Roper Shamhart is one of my favorites, our Advent blue set with the artfully done embroidered roses. We use the Advent blue set for only four Sundays so get a look while you can! The cope (a large ceremonial cloak worn at solemn liturgical functions resembling a cloak or mantle) of the Advent blue set is decorated with symbols of the “O Antiphons”.
As the website Fully Homely Divinity says about the O Antiphons:
Traditionally, on the last days of Advent, at the service of Vespers, a series of special texts were added to the beginning and end of the Magnificat, the Song of Mary, which is sung every day at Vespers, or Evening Prayer. Each of these texts, called “antiphons”, begins with the word “O”, so they came to be known as the “Great O Antiphons”.
The St Luke’s sacristy is a trove of tucked away treasures. During one of the altar guild’s clean ups during the year I found a single sheet of paper with print carefully typed on a Selectic 3 typewriter in a protective plastic cover that had written across the top:
THE SYMBOLISM OF THE ADVENT COPE
What a find! Here is the introduction at the top of the paper and the texts of the first two O Antiphons
“The GREAT O ANTIPHONS date from the 9th century and are sung at the Magnificat at Vespers on the even of each of the 8 days before Christmas, being December 17 (referred to as O SAPIENT), 18, 19, 2, 21, 22, 23, and 24. Since Vespers, the sixth of the seven canonical hours, occur after sun-down it is, in effect, the first prayer service of the next day. Although there is an antiphon proper for the 21st, O REX GENTIUM, with text similar to that for the 23rd, it is general practice that the antiphon for St. Thomas’ Day is substituted since it is the feast of an Apostle.
December 17 – O SAPIENTI
O wisdom which came out of the moth of the most High, and reaches from one end to another, mightily, an sweetly ordering all things: Come and teach us the way of prudence.
December 18 – O ADONAY
O Adonay, and leader of the house of Israel, who appeared in the bush to Moses in a flame of fire, and gave him the Law of Sinai: Come and deliver us with an outstretched arm.
The symbol used on our cope for the first O Antiphon, “O Sapientia”, is the seven-branched candelabra from the Temple in Jerusalem called a menorah. This is the menorah which stood in the Holy Place in the Temple. We know this because there is an image of it on the Arch of Titus in Rome. The Temple was the place of God’s presence where the faithful came to hear God’s word.
The symbol used for the second O Antiphon “O Adonay” is the burning bush from Exodus where God spoke to Moses through the flame without the bush being consumed. You can still visit the burning bush at St Catherine’s Monastery in the Sinai.
Next week we’ll talk about two more of the cope’s symbols. Meanwhile, keep your eye pealed for the beauty and intricacy of this magnificent contribution to our communal spiritual life.
– Sean Scheller