This hymn is not suitable for an ecumenical gathering in which Catholics participate, because of its low Eucharistic theology and overemphasis on the priesthood of believers to the disregard, if not disdain, of the sacramental priesthood.
In verse 1, the quotation from the Gospel of Matthew (although skillfully paraphrased and metered) has been used for centuries now by low Protestants to "prove" that there is no need of a sacramental priesthood. "Wherever two or three are gathered in my name..." the Lord said, He would be among them. Yes, but isn't there something here that needs an explanation? What can this mean: "In my name?" For Catholics, praying in the name of Jesus means more than simply saying His name. It means praying as He taught us to pray in His memory: together, with Peter, with the apostles, at the Eucharist.
Which is a different kind of meal than is described in verse 2. Addressed now is not Jesus, but "us." We are breaking bread and blessing the cup "as the disciples" who used to gather, the song says. They met for the breaking of bread and the prayers, the Acts of the Apostles tells us. But again, they met with Peter and the Eleven. And they considered the friendship to be with Christ and the Father as well as with each other, bound in the unity of the Holy Spirit.
In verse 3, the hymn extends the non-priestly communion fellowship into all areas of life, asking Jesus (here again the addressee) to make "all our meals and all our living...as sacraments of you." The precision of the word "sacrament" is striking, and in the context of an ecumenical gathering seems actually designed to contradict the teaching of the Council of Trent that there are seven Sacraments instituted by Jesus Christ.
Taken as a whole, for all of the above reasons, the hymn promotes an ideal of ecumenism which I like to think of as "lowest-common-denominator" ecumenism. I encountered this idea many times during my ecumenical work. Lowest Common Denominator ecumenism holds that what is needed is a return to a purer, more primitive, Christianity. If we were able to recover the essentials, rather than holding on to the accretions we have developed over the centuries (such as clarifications of Eucharistic theology, for example) we would all be united.
In other words, the hymn promotes Protestantism.
What is sad about this choice is that there are other quite acceptable options. One choice could be to retrieve a hymn from ancient times, such as a morning or evening hymn from the Office. These hymns are acceptable to all, and there are several outstanding versions of the great hymn Phos Hilaron in English. For an ecumenical gathering, one might well steer clear of the Gregorian chant "O Radiant Light, O Sun divine," but why not sing "O Gladsome Light, O Grace of God the Father's face"?
In other words, an evening hymn focused on our true Common Denominator, Christ the Lord, would be most appropriate. Other options might be any other Trinitarian or Christological hymn of praise, such as Jesus Shall Reign (my personal favorite for this sort of event) or Rejoice, the Lord is King, Love Divine All Loves Excelling, or the modern classic, In Christ Alone.
14 comments:
In defence of Percy Dearmer, it seems (according to HymnQuest) that he wrote these verses as a conclusion to "Lord, enthroned in heavenly splendour". If you sing the hymn in its entirety, then I think the Eucharistic theology is less problematic. I also suspect that, as a sound Anglo-Catholic, the author did actually have a high view of the priesthood.
None of which of course invalidates any of your criticisms of the three verses if used in isolation.
Robin
Well said.
I disagree that the use of the text 'Draw Us in the Spirit's Tether' is inappropriate for the reasons given. The opening comment -- say 'Holy Spirit,' not 'Spirit' -- is a flippant sort of remark. Ought we to rebuke Christ for saying 'be born of the Spirit' instead of Holy Spirit? Or would we throw out the venerable 'Veni Creator Spiritus' because Maurus failed to say, 'Veni Creator Spiritus Sanctus?' It's obvious to any Trinitarian (like Dearmer) what/who 'Spirit' signifies, and to try to include 'Holy' would do violence to the well-wrought text (as it would in the aforementioned Latin hymn). Such silly nitpicking just serves to detract from any further argument since, clearly, it's not always necessary or even reasonable to use the word 'Holy' with 'Spirit.'
Further, the notion that this text emphasizes a non-Sacramental understanding of worship is poorly supported. Yes, it is true that the text could be used for that purpose, just as the Matthian Gospel quotation could be used to undermine the Sacramentally-centered priesthood, but that's an extrinsic conclusion. As Robin observes, Dearmer's high, Anglo-Catholic background certainly belies the claim that this text ought to be used for such a purpose.
Furthermore, a hymn text is merely a vehicle for meditation on one's faith, not a complete and comprehensive expression of doctrinal belief. The fact that the author doesn't 'explain' what he means by 'two or three gathered' doesn't entail that he didn't understand what it meant, or takes an antagonistic viewpoint towards the priesthood. The stanza that follows, frankly, 'explains' the sort of gathering means. If we were to use Ephrem's (the author of the lambaste) interpretation of that stanza at face value -- that somehow it means something other than the Eucharistic meal -- we would be obligated to chastise the writer of the Didache, who said 'that as grains scattered on the mountains become one bread, so, too, may the Body of the Faithful be likewise gathered to the heavenly kingdom' without so much of a mention of a priest. Dearmer no doubt meant a Eucharistic meal, and no doubt believed in the sacrosanct nature of the Eucharist. Only the baggage of enduring low-Protestant sermons could lead an individual to believe (knowing nothing else) that Dearmer meant to challenge the sacramental nature of the priesthood.
The criticism of the third stanza is especially weak. Again, I acknowledge that this text could be misinterpreted and twisted to support a 'priesthood of all believers' agenda, but there is no good reason to take this viewpoint prima facie. First of all, it is not the purpose of an ecumenical gathering to affirm the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church. The word comes from the Greek 'oikoumenikós' meaning 'pertaining to the entire inhabited world.' Consequently, such ecumenical worship should make no mention of sacraments whatsoever, given that there (sadly) remains debate over what constitutes a Sacrament and how many they are. The purpose of an ecumenical gathering is to focus on that which is agreed upon by the faith traditions represented.
Furthermore, the objection levied at the use of the word 'sacrament' in Dearmar's poem borders on hysterical -- that it was 'designed to contradict the teaching' of the Church. It does no such thing. The author does not say 'Our [actions/lives] are sacraments,' but prays that our lives be as sacraments. Frankly, I can think of no humbler prayer than for my life to be as a sacrament -- that my actions be efficacious sign of grace, that it would bear fruit in those who meet and interact with me, that my life be a power that goes forth to heal the wounds of sin and gives others a new life of Christ. Again, if we wanted to twist the author's intent, we could claim that this text means that all things are Sacraments therefore there are no Sacraments, but we would be failing to distinguish between 'Sacrament' and 'sacrament.' Consider the following article, which carries an imprimatur:
http://www.americancatholic.org/Newsletters/CU/ac0893.asp
Father Richstatter is a leading authority on Sacraments and he has no objection to using the term both specifically (as to refer to the Seven Sacraments) and broadly, as to refer to the sacred nature of interactions amongst individuals. He does so with care and precision, and I do not believe there is any reason to believe that Dearmer was any less precise in his choice of words.
Consider this other example, which also carries the imprimatur and additionally the nihil obstat:
http://www.ewtn.com/library/DOCTRINE/SACRAMEN.TXT
Bishop Sheen writes: "A handshake is a kind of sacrament, because there is something seen and felt, namely, the clasping of hands; but there is something mysterious and unseen, namely, the communication of friendship." I see no reason to take ‘x is a kind of sacrament’ as substantially different from ‘make our actions as sacraments.’
So, unless one objects to any use of the word ‘sacrament’ (which merely means ‘mystery’) in any context besides the Seven, one can carefully apply the term in a broader meaning as Father Richstatter and Bishop Sheen have, and elegantly so. And, if one does object to such a use, then what other words must we restrict: Mystery? Body? Church? Should we be careful? Of course, but a broader understanding of ‘sacrament’ (not ‘Sacrament’) can in fact serve to inform our faith, not exclusively confuse it. Indeed, I acknowledge such language can lead to theologians running amok -- that we can become gods and so forth -- but such fallacious slippery-slope arguments should not discourage us from the careful use of 'sacrament.' After all, even the Devil can quote Scripture, as they say. No, we should embrace differing uses for the word 'sacrament' mindfully, because it can serve to enhance our relationship with God and our appreciation of the Seven Sacraments.
The only objection that I could find for using this text at a ecumenical gathering would be that it is too Eucharist centered. Given that other Christian faith traditions see ‘the meal’ as purely symbolic, and given that no ecumenical gathering ought to have any form of Eucharistic celebration, it seems an inappropriate selection because it’s very likely that some of the worshippers present don’t break the bread and drink the cup as the Disciples used to do. Ecumenism is not a didactic occasion -- either for those of Roman Catholic or Protestant persuasions. It ought to focus on the handful of dogmas upon which we all can agree. Otherwise, its purpose is merely a disguised effort at conversion.
Consequently, whereas I would never use this text at ecumenical worship, I submit that the reasons given by the initial author are poorly founded, lack an understanding of the intrinsic text, disregard the hermeneutic of the author’s beliefs, and run contrary to the text in its broader context of the entire hymn. In short, the initial post applies the same flawed methodology towards the poem that low-Protestants apply toward Scripture in their invalidation of the priesthood.
Thank you, Nemesio (real name?), for going through the trouble of a long comment.
Thank you also for acknowledging that the interpretations I make of the texts are possible readings, and that low-church ecclesiology is to some extent a valid reading of the texts.
You state: "The purpose of an ecumenical gathering is to focus on that which is agreed upon by the faith traditions represented." If this is true--and actually I do not fully subscribe to this view, but let's take your position for the sake of argument--then it seems to me that faith tradtitions which do not agree to low-church ecclesiology, and in particular to congregationalism, would not find their faith represented by this text, if they read it as I do.
So, then, why wouldn't it be a much better idea to choose a hymn whose text cannot be misunderstood, which is clearly representative of the central faith of all present? In short, why not choose a hymn that speaks not of ecclesiology at all, nor of sacraments--areas of wide, long-standing and often bitter disagreement--and instead focuses on Jesus Christ?
Hello, Ephrem.
In response to your comment, I would say that the interpretation of the original (i.e., Scriptural) text is opened to interpretation. As a member and employee of a Roman Catholic Church, I personally and professionally take the ‘traditional’ view -- that is, the one that has come into being by means of consensus over the ages and can be founded in the early practice of the Church -- of the Scriptures upon which the hymn text is based. So, like the Roman Catholic Church, I do not take ‘wherever two or three are gathered…’ (St Matthew 18:20) to be demonstrable that the priesthood doesn’t need to exist in any orthodox understanding of Christian worship. As we know, there are several arguments against having a priesthood (and, as you said, this verse gets used in many of them). However, I have not found them to be compelling either historically or logically.
However, whereas the Scriptures are opened to interpretation and disagreement, I would maintain that this hymn text cannot be genuinely be interpreted in that manner. Because of the absence of autobiographical writings by Jesus Himself, we cannot definitively ascertain what He meant by this statement, but instead use faith through the revelation of the Holy Spirit in the vehicle of the Church (or don’t!). Dearmer’s theological leanings are manifestly clear by comparison, and to use Dearmer’s text to support a low-church interpretation of the priesthood would be disingenuous. To be clear: I’m well aware that members of all denominations utilize the texts of poets, theologians and writers to support their theological agendas in spite of the authors’ original intent, but I take such approaches to be intellectually dishonest. Whenever an author puts something down on paper, it can be used, misused and abused; I concede this. That having been said, as I do not use Calvin’s hymns to justify the use of images in a church, nor use Luther’s hymns to justify the doctrine of Transubstantiation (even though I might be able to ‘reinterpret’ their texts to those ends), I would not use Dearmer’s text to support a non-hierarchal arrangement within a faith that espouses that ecclesiology.
So, I would say that Dearmer’s text would be perfectly suited for a Roman Catholic Mass, because they read the text in a fashion largely if not entirely congruent to that of the (Anglo-Catholic) author. Its use at an ecumenical gathering -- in which the Eucharist should most certainly not be celebrated -- seems bizarre to say the least because of its Eucharistic focus. As neither I, nor Dearmer, nor the Church takes the passages upon which Dearmer’s text is based as a defense of a low-church ecclesiology, I think it would be a travesty to not use this text in Roman Catholic worship.
As for your final paragraph, I believe it’s somewhat idealistic to believe that any hymn text will not be misunderstood. That is, one could take ‘Jesus Shall Reign,’ (your suggestion, a good one, to be sure) to promote infant baptism, or that one should use incense in worship, or some other bizarre thing. One could use ‘Rejoice, the Lord is King,’ (another good suggestion) to oppose the Papacy (the keys of death…). One could use ‘Love Divine, All Loves Excelling,’ to support an imminent parousia. (I’m shooting from the hip on these texts, but I’ve heard many strange sermons in my lifetime.) I’ve learned that no hymn is safe from misinterpretation. I believe that it is the duty of the Pastor/Priest/Minister/Clergyperson/Worship Leader/&c to steer the congregation towards the theology espoused by their denomination, and that the hymns should be used to reflect that, not the other way around.
And so, yes: it would be better to choose a hymn that is less likely to be misunderstood, but having participated in literally dozens of ecumenical worship events, I’ve heard all manner of textual butchery from the clergy and after a certain point, it’s useless to try to anticipate the interpretative contortions imposed upon hymns texts at such things.
All of this remains my own opinion, of course, and I submit it to you and those who read it as a contrasting view on Dearmer's text. If I came across as too snarky, I sincerely apologize.
Thanks again for taking the trouble to write a long comment.
We all know people who think that any text can be read in any way. I want to be clear that this is not at all my point of view. I don't think that Dearmer's text can be looked at in a certain way that advocates a low ecclesiology: I think that a low ecclesiology is consonant with the prima facie reading of this text, and only becomes clearer with analysis. And I don't think this is at all true with the hymns that you were unable to find real fault with. They themselves are sound, and in such a way that they are commonly acceptable.
Whatever Dearmer's convictions, this particular hymn does not show high-church leanings. Gathering and supping, friendship--these are words of the hearth, not of the altar. And syntactically, it is those (all of those) who gather who break the bread and bless the cup.
Ephrem, I can’t argue with your opinion, but I can ask that it be consistent. If it is your contention that Dearmer’s text is consonant with low ecclesiology, then you must also believe that the Gospels concord with low ecclesiology, too, because they are the explicit sources for his text for the first two stanzas (St Matthew 18:20, St Mark 5:27, and the Synoptic Gospels’ accounts of the Last Supper, as well as I Corinthians 10:16-17, 11:23ff.). Jesus and the Disciples gather, break bread, and sup. These actions are at the foundation of the agapic meal, the proto-Eucharistic Rite detailed in the Didache. If one decides that Dearmer’s text embraces a low-church theology, then his source must also embrace it (for it’s a near paraphrase).
But we don’t interpret the Gospels as espousing a low ecclesiology because we have the teachings of the Church which we use to interpret the Scriptures. Somehow, you comfortably apply these teachings to the Gospels but seem unable to do so with Dearmer’s text. Yet, we can say with complete confidence that, when the poem was composed, he wrote it through the lens of high-church ecclesiology. Why then must we struggle when we sing it? Because there isn’t a fourth stanza that reminds us that the bread and wine are transubstantiated? Because it doesn’t say ‘we and a priest gathered?’ These seem like strange objections. Given that the first two stanzas practically quote Scripture, I can’t see how any objection could be levied against them and not against the Gospels. The only way that one could object is because those stanzas have been disingenuously used to support an ecclesiology unsupported by the Church and not espoused by the writer of the text. But that’s an extrinsic objection.
Part of what appears to be troubling you is the syntax -- you appear to object that ‘we’ break the bread and bless the cup. But ‘we’ do break the bread in Roman Catholic Mass. Yes, the Fraction itself is executed by the priest, but ‘we’ all participate in it. All four Eucharistic prayers use a lot of ‘we’ language as well (cf. III: And so, Father, we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy by the power of your Spirit [I note another example of ‘Spirit’ without ‘Holy,’ incidentally], or I: We come to you Father, with praise and thanksgiving, through Jesus Christ your Son. Through Him we ask you to accept and bless these gifts we offer you in sacrifice). The priest does not of his own power bless the gifts, but asks along with us that the gifts be blessed by God the Father. The Eucharistic Prayer is ‘our’ prayer. One person (the priest) articulates the prayer on behalf of all present, but ‘we’ all pray it. Similarly, ‘we’ all break the bread and bless the cup, for if ‘we’ do not, ‘we’ have not participated in the whole of the Eucharistic Rite. Indeed, the Catechism of the Roman Catholic Church itself, 1396 echoes that very sentiment from St Paul’s own writings, saying: ‘The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread…’ (I Corinthinas 10:16-17). This is one of the fruits of Holy Communion, the unity that obtains through its corporate celebration. Though the Presider effects the breaking, ‘we’ all are participating in its breaking.
The Mystery of the Sacrament is in its paradoxical relationships: it is both corporeal and spiritual; it is both deeply and profoundly personal while being thoroughly universal; it utilizes ordinary accidents while becoming substantially extraordinary; it is both a common meal, and a unique experience. If we fail to acknowledge -- indeed, celebrate! – the hearth as well as the altar in the Eucharist, then are missing out on one of the dimensions of experience intrinsic to it, an aspect which is emphasized in all four Eucharistic prayers used in the modern Roman Rite, an aspect which is at the fundament of Roman Catholic tradition, an aspect which is at the Eucharist’s very origin.
One must keep in mind that the Presider celebrates with the congregation and, while he acts in persona Christi, the Eucharist is meant to be celebrated by all present. (Frankly, this is one of the reasons why it makes more theological sense to have the priest face the same direction as the congregation during the Eucharistic Prayer, but I’ve long given up making that argument.) Just glancing at the Eucharistic Prayers, we can see that the words supper, breaking bread, and discipleship play important roles:
(I) The day before He suffered He took bread in His sacred hands and looking up to heaven, to you, His almighty Father, He gave you thanks and praise. He broke the bread, gave it to His disciples…
(II) Before He was given up to death, a death He freely accepted, He took bread and gave you thanks. He broke the bread, gave it to His disciples… When supper was ended, He took the cup…
(III) On the night He was betrayed, He took bread and gave you thanks and praise. He broke the bread, gave it to His disciples… When supper was ended, He took the cup…
(IV)While they were at supper, He took the bread, said the blessing, broke the bread and gave it to the Disciples…
All of these lines occur preceding the Words of Institution, the central text for almost all Eucharistic Rites throughout history. That is, they -- the concepts of gathering, supping, and discipleship -- have a certain ‘pride of place’ in the Rite itself. I see no reason why they shouldn’t be emphasized musically as long as they aren’t emphasized to contrast against the office of priesthood. Thus, Dearmer’s words are of both hearth and altar, the former explicitly, the latter implicitly; Jesus proclaimed them before a hearth the first time and the Church incorporated them to the altar. The words of the Eucharist prayer echo those at the first celebration of the Eucharist, and so, too, does the poem. That the text chooses to emphasize the hearth in this case should not be a problem for those high-ecclesiasts (like the author) because we ought not be confused that emphasizing one dimension doesn’t entail the obviation of the other. I seem to find it puzzling why it troubles you. Simply because the fourth Eucharist Prayer says ‘Father, we now celebrate this memorial of our redemption,’ doesn’t mean that it’s just a memorial.
So, in short, it seems to me that your objections are selective, applied to Dearmer but not to the Gospels. You accept the use of ‘we’ in St Paul’s writings and reiterated in plain language in the Catechism, but not in this poem. You accept the elements of hearth -- gathering, supping, and discipleship -- in the Eucharistic Rite, but not in Dearmer’s text. You have misread low-ecclesiology into Dearmer’s text where it does not exist, but gladly accept nearly the same language in other writings. It is this lack of consistency in your approach that to which I object. I maintain that Dearmer’s text echoes the Roman understanding of the Eucharist (inasmuch as one can understand a mystery), and its use should be encouraged amongst Roman Catholics, not shunned.
Nemesio,
Yes, in essence, the reason I think this hymn is misleading is because the "hearth" element is overwhelmingly present, and the sacrificial element is completely lacking. It's not a meal like any other meal, or "all our meals," and it's actually not us who say the words of institution. We come, we bring, we offer--but "we" do not break the bread and bless the cup!
It's a sacrifice, and there is a priest, and he stands before God like Moses in the breach. Which is why he should be facing God ad orientem. And God accepts the offering, and grants us fellowship that flows from it, because our union is in His Son, who is Himself the Victim and the Priest.
This is the mystery as I see it--not the interplay of hearth and altar but the interplay of the divine and human actors in the liturgy--perhaps better expressed here: http://www.canticanova.com/articles/hymns/art2i1.htm
Hello again, Ephrem,
This poem is not ‘misleading;’ this construal is a product of your extrinsic bias. Because the author chooses in this particular instance to emphasize the ‘hearth’ does not entail that he dislikes the ‘altar’ (much less ‘disdains’ as you wrote in your initial post). It does not entail that those who read/sing it have ignored the ‘sacrificial’ element to the Eucharist. Acknowledging the ‘hearth’ in a given moment of music or Mass doesn’t entail, in that moment, a rejection of the ‘altar.’ The Mass, like the Gospels, is to be taken as a whole. This is why it’s disingenuous to use St Matthew 18:20 to invalidate the priesthood, because utilizing this text to the exclusion of all else around it can pervert the meaning of the totality of canonized Christian writings, much less the writings of the Church Fathers. To look at the second stanza, or even to look at the three stanzas altogether and draw conclusions about the total ecclesiology espoused in it or by the author is no different than reading a low ecclesiology in St Matthew and not reading the other Christian Scriptures, as well as ignoring the teachings of the Church through tradition that Roman Catholics embrace. You would not, I assume, object to a poem in which the author emphasized the ‘Victim’ quality of Jesus without mention of the ‘Priest’ quality (or vice versa). Nor do I expect that you would avoid one which emphasized His death without reference to His resurrection (or vice versa). These hymns would not be ‘misleading’ because we accept that a poet may wish to emphasize one theological element at a given time. Absence does not entail rejection. If this were so, we could show disdain at any and all hymnody, because any hymn by necessity would fail to capture every possible theological element fathomable -- in a given text, Christ could be a Victim, Priest, Healer, Teacher, Revolutionary, &c, &c but if the author neglects, say, ‘Scholar of the Law,’ one could absurdly claim that the author ‘disdains Jesus’ authority as interpreter of Scripture.’ That sort of thinking is just ridiculous, and if you can see it in this exaggerated example, I hope you can see it in the more subtle objection you raise with this text.
Your juxtaposition of the concepts in the second and third stanzas is disingenuous. The breaking of bread and blessing of cup occurs in the second stanza (quoting from Scripture). The third stanza is a post-communion imperative to make our lives as sacraments to God. This is in response to the Sacrament referred in the previous stanza. It’s not saying that pizza and soda night is a Sacrament, but that our lives must be Sacramental -- that, to use Rahner’s turn-of-phrase, the Sacrament must effect in us that which it signifies. So, in response to the *M*eal in the second stanza, all *m*eals and living must inspire ‘caring, helping and giving’ in order to demonstrate the ‘true-ness’ of our discipleship.
As for your objection to ‘our’ breaking the bread and blessing the cup: you’ll have to take that up with Rome, since the Catechism is pretty unequivocal about it. I’m certain you wouldn’t have objected if I said ‘My wife and I, we had a baby boy’ when our son was born. Obviously, ‘I’ didn’t have a baby in a literal sense, but ‘I’ did have a baby in a more figurative sense. Similarly, ‘we’ don’t break the bread in a literal sense, but in our full participation in the Eucharistic Prayer ‘we’ do indeed break the bread in a figurative, corporate way. Why else would Rome feel the need to include this in the Catechism, directed at instructing its faithful in matters of faith? As members of the Body of Christ, we corporately execute the Mass. But an ear cannot do what the eye does, nor a hand do what a foot does, to paraphrase I Corinthians 12:15ff.; the priest effects the breaking and blessing, but the whole Body (the Church) breaks and blesses it, too. We ought not be resentful that the priest does this, just as the ear ought not be resentful of the eye, because we are aware that we are, through the Eucharist, One Body. If the priest does it, the whole Body has done it.
If Dearmer were to have said ‘It is just a meal,’ I could appreciate your objections. However, not only does he not call the Eucharist ‘a meal,’ he simply says that, as the Disciples of old did, ‘Break the bread and bless the cup with thanks to God the Father.’ It does not even say ‘we break and bless.’ So, whereas it can be construed as ‘we break’ (with which we should not have any objection, as per above), it can also be understood as imperative: ‘Break the bread, Mr Priest, like the Disciples of old.’ This is followed, likewise, in the imperative: ‘So [through this], knit our friendship up, God.’ From the website you cited, the late John Paul II’s comments are directly relevant here: ‘There is no doubt that the most evident dimension of the Eucharist is that it is a meal…As such, it expresses the fellowship which God wishes to establish with us and which we ourselves must build with one another.’ Had this been all John Paul II had said, say, as part of an interview or sermon, none of us would objected because 1) it’s 100% true; and 2) we all know that he doesn’t simply believe this and nothing else about the Eucharist. So, whereas the Eucharistic meal is, as he later wrote, ‘profoundly and primarily sacrificial,’ the emphasis in a given moment (of the Mass, of a text) of its ‘meal-ness’ is not theologically inappropriate. Indeed, John Paul II seems comfortable celebrating the ‘hearth-ness’ of the Eucharist in that particular moment of his Apostolic Letter; so, too, should we feel comfortable and embrace that same ‘hearth-ness’ in our worship. Should we only celebrate that aspect? Of course not! But we can in one moment look at one dimension just as in another moment we can look at solely the other dimension and in a third look at both dimensions simultaneously.
Yes, Ms. Pluth’s poem on that page is well-wrought (despite saying ‘Spirit’ without ‘Holy’ in the fourth stanza); it is one of many excellent options that music ministers have at their disposal. It is an appropriate hymn text for Corpus Christi, as she proposes. It would be awkward on Holy Thursday, however, where ‘meal-like’ quality might deserve better emphasis (obviously, Dearmer’s text could not be used because of the ‘Alleluias.’).
The Mystery is in the juxtaposition of paradoxes. Yes, the interplay of Divine and Human elements is one, perhaps a primary focus, but there are many, many more. That’s the beauty of the Eucharist! It’s ‘the same’ every week (or day), but it’s unique, too (another of the paradoxes). There isn’t simply ‘one thing,’ one perspective, one contrasting element, that comprises the Mystery: it’s the number and breadth of dimensions intrinsic to the Sacrament. And a momentary reflection upon one side of things does not constitute the ‘disdain’ for the other, nor should it be ‘misleading.’
Nemesio,
Let me put it to you this way.
Suppose an intensely low, congregationalist church wanted to have a communion service. Let's say this hymn was chosen to accompany the communion service. Would there be a reasonable objection to it in such a setting?
I'm not sure why the opinions of a low Congregationalist are relevant to your interpretation of this hymn. You keep wanting to focus your objections on how other, non-Catholic people might interpret this text. Individuals who do not believe that Christ was literally resurrected from the dead wouldn't have any objection to 'Vexilla Regis,' either. Those who deny the Divinity of Christ wouldn't have any objection to 'Jesu, Dulcis Memoria.' Simply because those texts don't focus on the Resurrection and Divinity of Christ respectively (two of the most important theological elements in orthodox Christian belief), and simply because people might appropriate those texts to serve their own needs does not entail that those texts in fact support the non-orthodox interpretations imposed upon them. Just because people with differing, antithetical theological frameworks don't object to a text doesn't require that said text is intrinsically objectionable. If that were true, we'd have to reject the Lord's Prayer, because it doesn't advance a peculiarly Roman Catholic theology.
And so, my answer would be: Who cares what Congregationalists might think about this hymn? If they want to misinterpret this hymn to their own ends, ignore the hermeneutic under which it was composed, what is it to me, who is well informed about the hymn, the writer, and the circumstances under which it was written?
The question shouldn't be 'What do other people think about this text,' but 'Does this text advance some theologically sound perspective on the Eucharist?' and 'Can this text be used to emphasize one of the spiritually relevant dimensions of the Eucharist in an effort to foster and develop a well-formed faith?'
The answer to these two questions is an unequivocal 'Yes' when one considers this text for Roman Catholic use.
Excuse me, Nemesio, but this is a discussion, and I asked you an honest question. Would you kindly respond?
We've had plenty of heat here, and some light. But since you are adamant that I must agree with you, I hope I may be allowed to explain why I will not.
It might help if I mention that in my view of hymn interpretation, unless the author is a Father, a Doctor, or a saint, the authorship is irrelevant to the discussion. What matters is the text.
I did respond to your question. You asked what a low Congregationalist might think of the text. I answered 'Who cares?' Somehow, you think that because a Congregationalist might answer 'Yes' to such a question is relevant to your interpretation.
You write 'What matters is text.' This runs contrary to your question, 'What would some low ecclesiast think?' You are now looking at something extrinsic from the text: the opinions of others.
I strove to illustrate this by showing that 'Vexilla Regis' could be used by those with those Gnostics who deny the bodily Resurrection, since this hymn only focuses on Jesus' 'victimhood.' If your hermeneutic were consistent, you be inclined to criticize this hymn for failing to elaborate on the post-Cross activities. Indeed, I would think it is a greater departure from Christianity to reject the Resurrection then to reject the Sacrament of the Eucharist!
But, naturally, you don't reject 'Vexilla Regis,' and with good reason: who cares if some Gnostic could use this at their services? Simply because they could doesn't entail that there is some flaw in the hymn.
You seem to contradict yourself further when you say 'What matters is text...unless it's written by a Father, Doctor, or saint.' Fathers, Doctors, and saints wrote many brilliant things, to be sure, but not everything they wrote is theologically viable. For example, I would oppose a hymn deriving from St Augustine's writings that promoted the government's forcing people from heresy into Catholicism. I'm sure you would, too, even though it was written by St Augustine.
(for details, see: http://dannymcdonald.wordpress.com/2008/05/05/st-augustine-on-state-coercion-even-great-theologians-made-mistakes/)
Frankly, the only 'heat' that I have felt so far is what appears to be your indignation at my supposed non-answer to your question. Given that the post in which you posed your question basically ignored my previous, extensive post which addressed the text in great detail (that is, an explicit non-answer to the issues I raised), I find it ironic that you would be somehow offended when I don't answer your leading question with a simple 'yes' or 'no.'
I don't insist that you agree with me. I can't insist on that. But, what I can do is elucidate how your disagreement with me either entails embracing very odd things (e.g., rejection of 'Vexilla Regis, because Gnostics could use it) or internal contradiction (e.g., what matters is text, except when saints write it, then something extrinsic to the text matters).
I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, or if you feel heated. I truly am. But you posted your lambaste on 'Draw Us in the Spirit's Tether,' publicly and solicited comments. I've striven to make my comments conscientious, focused, consistent, thoughtful, and polite.
And so, I will return to my last comment in the previous post, in response to your statement that 'what matters is text:'
Does this text [Draw Us in the Spirit's Tether] advance some theologically sound perspective on the Eucharist?
Yes.
Can this text be used to emphasize one of the spiritually relevant dimensions of the Eucharist in an effort to foster and develop a well-formed faith?
Yes.
One cannot answer 'Who cares' to my two questions and still be a good music minister. One can easily answer 'Who cares' to 'What would Congregationalists/Pelagianists/Gnostics/Monatists/Flying Spaghetti Monsterists think of this text?' and still be a good music minister, as long as the answers to my above questions remain 'Yes.'
Insisting that this be a discussion is not indignance.
So far, you've lectured, reframed, and footnoted. But you have not thoughtfully considered my basic premise: it expresses and promotes low-church ecclesiology and low-church sacramental theology, and as such is appropriate for communions whose theology is low-church, but not for Catholics.
Feel free to hold your own opinions: that is fine. But if you want me to change my opinion--which must be why you keep commenting, yes?--I'm afraid you'll have to actually become engaged in a discussion.
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