The sacred and the mundane

My family was recently visiting a (Catholic) medieval gothic cathedral in Europe, when it turned out it was time for the weekly organ concert. I stopped to listen, and was pleased to see (from the program afterwards) that the final two pieces were, in fact, by J.S. Bach. The organ was obviously the finest in town and for miles around.

Alas, less than 10% of the audience was under 40. That's probably true for most churches in Europe — and many I’ve seen in the U.S., too.

Still, it reminds me of a time — less than a generation ago — where church music was something unique. In the medium-sized church (ca. 200 ASA) in the medium-sized town (perhaps 80,000) where we worshipped, the best organist in town was at our church. I’d hazard to say that 4 of the 5 best organists in town were at our church. And the church where I grew up in a big city, the organist (and choir director) had one of the best music jobs in town.

We also had the best organ in town. It was nothing compared to the organ we visited (which apparently still has pipes from the 16th to 18th centuries), but it was obviously better than any organ that anyone had at home.

Today, children and young adults don’t listen to organ music or even classical music in general. Most churches play CCM because they believe that’s what people want, and it’s certainly plausible to conclude that few people are breaking down the door demanding organ music.

The problem is, the praise band is not set apart from the world — it is not only in the world, but (except for the J-word) it’s more or less of the world. Not only is the sound comparable to what you’d hear on the radio or in a bar, but (with one exception) the praise bands I’ve heard aren’t as good (even as the band in the corner dive bar.)

So instead of church music that is the awe-inspiring, sacred, set apart from the world — such as the Messiah or a great organ concert — what we have today is the profane of the ordinary life of the world (to use Durkheim’s formulation). And this profane (i.e. ordinary) music is rather mundane.

I’m not sure I have an answer here, but this seems like yet another reason why many of my most Anglican friends are — as the Episcopal and Anglican denominations teeter around them — skipping Catholicism and heading straight to the Orthodox faith. The liturgy is not my cup of tea, but (like the theology) has retained a millennial-old emphasis of being set apart, of being organized around the holy mysteries, rather than adapting and bending to the contemporary culture.

Credo: We do NOT believe

As seems to have been mandated (or at least strongly encouraged) by the ACNA, our parish has been using the proposed ACNA liturgy since Advent 1 of this liturgical year. On the one hand, it kills all the traditional language of the 1662/1789/1892/1928 prayer books; on the other hand, in terms of theology and form, it is more faithful to them than was the contemporary language of the 1979 ECUSA prayer book.

I Believe

Even after two months, there’s one thing I’ve been unable to accept: the plural form of the Nicene Creed. The 1549 liturgy was created from the creed of the Sarum rite, which begins:

Credo in unum Deum, Patrem Omnipotentem, factorem cœli et terra, visibilium omnium et invisibilium.

Et in unum Dominum Jesum Christum, Filium Dei unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante omnia sæcula: Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Deum verum de Deo vero, Genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri, per quem omnia facta sunt.

In fact, the word “creed” comes from the credo that begins it. Credo is the latin word for “I believe.”

The Cranmer translation of the liturgy set the standard for all other English-language Protestant liturgical worship. It was not just the Methodist church when it split off from the Church of England, but it also was used for the English-language liturgy of the Presbyterian church (coming from Geneva) and the Lutheran church (coming from Germany and Scandinavia).

If you attended any American Protestant worship through the mid-1970s, you would hear Cranmer’s words (with the 1789 ECUSA modernized spellings):

I believe in one God,
the Father Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth,
and of all things visible and invisible;

And in one Lord Jesus Christ,
the only begotten Son of God,
begotten of his Father before all worlds,
God of God, Light of Light,
very God of very God,
begotten, not made,
being of one substance with the Father;
by whom all things were made;

This is the text (for example) in the 1941 The Lutheran Hymnal, used by the Missouri Synod until their 1982 hymnal. (Being slightly anti-Papist, the Lutherans did change “one Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church” to “one Holy Christian and Apostolic Church.”)

We Believe

The use of “we believe" came to ECUSA in the 1970s with the 1979 prayer book via the ICET. As Hatchett (1980: 29) writes in his 670 page commentary on that book:

For rites in contemporary language the last revision of the Prayers We Have in Common: Agreed Liturgical Texts Prepared by the International Consultation on English Texts [ICET] is used for common texts, with a few exceptions. … The word “men” has been deleted from a phrase in the Nicene Creed.

In discussing the Nicene Creed later on (p. 334), he writes:

The ICET translation, which left the inclusion of the filioque clause optional, has been adopted for this Book. The plural form is restored, true to the document of the council and fitting for use in the Eucharist as a proclamation of the faith of the Church.

While rejecting many of the theological changes of Rite II, the ACNA task force embraced this philosophy with the first word of their creed. As the ACNA FAQ explains

Nicene Creed: Why, in the Nicene Creed, are we saying "We believe" rather than "I believe?"

The original Greek text used "We Believe" because this Creed reflects the belief of the whole Church as a united body, as contrasted with the Apostles' Creed which is a personal profession of faith used at baptism. The translation we are using for the Creed is that used by The Church of England in "Common Worship," an adaptation of 1662 BCP.

The citation of Common Worship is slightly misleading. In Order One, the CoE uses “we believe” but Order Two of the latest CoE liturgy retains the Cranmerian credo.

Ecumenical Disharmony

That the ACNA used a CoE modernization rather than inventing its own is somewhat reassuring. However, its decision on "we believe" is still in disharmony with the ACNA's most likely ecumenical partners.

For much of the past century, the CoE and Anglicans more broadly have been trying to repair the Tudor rift with Rome. However, in their new liturgy, adopted in 2008 and put into effect in 2011, the Order of Mass dropped the “We believe” in favor of the “I believe.”

In the US, the ACNA has been courting the Orthodox church for the past five years, inviting Metropolitan Jonah to address the 2009 convention, and a delegation of Orthodox clergy last fall to Nashotah House. The various American branches of Orthodoxy still use “I”.

Then there is the Lutheran Church, Missouri Synod. Of the liturgical churches among US Protestant denominations, it is one of the largest — in fact, the largest of the traditionalist denominations (with only the UMC, ELCA and PCUSA mainline Protestants being larger). In fact, with 2.3 million members it has more than the 2.0 million of TEC (vs. 100,000-140,00 for the ACNA).

Maybe that’s why the ACNA has actively courted the LCMS as a liturgical partner, with a series of “dialog” meetings that led to a 2012 joint communique.

While the Orthodox (being Orthodox) stick to traditional language, the RCC demonstrates it is possible to do contemporary language while keep the credo in the creed.

Why Others Do Not Believe

After joining with the ICET pluralism with a 1970 decision of the ICEL, the RCC consciously reverted to the singular with their 2011 liturgical revision.

In anticipation of that shift, Rev. James V. Schall, then a Jesuit priest and Georgetown professor wrote a July 2011 essay explaining the RCC theology behind the change:

In the Denziger collection of Church documents, however, all the ancient creeds, except the Apostles’ Creed, begin, following the Greek, in the first-person plural: Credimus – “we believe.” From its earliest appearance in the Church, the “I believe” version is for liturgical use. Those present affirm their own personal belief.

Why the English translation currently in use from the 1960s changed to “we believe” is open to speculation. Obviously, if it was good enough at Nicea, it ought to be good enough in Kansas City. When the Church Fathers at Nicea and Constantinople said “we believe” or “we affirm,” however, they were speaking definitively in the name of the tradition. They affirmed authoritatively what the Church held, what is to be believed as true. At Mass, the individual parishioner is not so speaking with authority. He is articulating his personal acceptance and knowledge of what is held. He is not defining it, but he does understand it.
…
The problem with the formula “we believe” is that the one who recites it may not in fact be affirming what is in the Creed. Instead of saying “I believe” as a public expression of what he holds, he means rather, “We believe” — that is, this is what this organization holds, though not necessarily what I hold myself. The unity of belief is broken.

I recommend the entire article for reading.

The Orthodox church is certainly not a fan of the RCC position on the creed — in particular three words added by Rome the 11th century that helped prompt the Great Schism. And the “we” form — gone in the West by the 5th century — lasted longer in the East.

That said, an official statement of the Orthodox Church in America, comments on the evolution of the creed after it was finalized in 381:

This whole Symbol of Faith was ultimately adopted throughout the entire Church. It was put into the first person form “I believe” and used for the formal and official confession of faith made by a person (or his sponsor-godparent) at his baptism. It is also used as the formal statement of faith by a non-Orthodox Christian entering the communion of the Orthodox Church. In the same way the creed became part of the life of Orthodox Christians and an essential element of the Divine Liturgy of the Orthodox Church at which each person formally and officially accepts and renews his baptism and membership in the Church. Thus, the Symbol of Faith is the only part of the liturgy (repeated in another form just before Holy Communion) which is in the first person. All other songs and prayers of the liturgy are plural, beginning with “we”. Only the credal statement begins with “I.” This, as we shall see, is because faith is first personal, and only then corporate and communal.

As best I understand, the LCMS position is the same as the Catholic and Orthodox. When (during my Lutheran period) I asked my LCMS pastor why the creed we recited was "I" and not "we," he answered simply: “because I don’t know what is in your heart — only what is in my heart.”

Conclusions

When the ACNA created its liturgy task force, it was pre-ordained that they would create a single modern language service: their “Guiding Principles” of 2009 made that clear, calling for “a modern language adaptation of the Rite I.” It claimed the primacy of Scripture and the creeds — but which creeds?

Verbally, I heard statements that the task force was trying to avoid the theological errors of the 1979 prayer book, but the word “theology” only appears twice in the Guiding Principles.

With the discussion of “What is Anglican worship?” several of the principles would suggest a desire to hew to first millennial church practice:

Although profoundly influenced, over several generations and in diverse directions, by the Continental 16th-century Reformation, the Church of England claims a direct !continuity of faith, governance and practice from before the arrival of St. Augustine of Canterbury in 597 to the present.
…
The central identifying marks of the Anglican version of Reformed Catholicism were and remain:
a. The primacy and sufficiency of Scripture
b. Credal orthodoxy
c. Justification by grace alone through faith alone
d. Patristic Heritage, including the 3-fold ministry of bishops, presbyters, and deacons.
e. Historic liturgy in continuity with ancient catholic tradition, but “purged” of late Medieval aberrations.

That the creeds entered the liturgy of the one true and (pre-Schism) undivided church with “credo” — first person singular — would seem to point to keeping the only form that Anglicans used for 400 years. Instead, the ACNA seems to favor the congregational feel of the “we,” while ignoring the theological change this represents.

Theological and ecumenical continuity would support support “I” while emotion supports ”we.” This key decision provides a window into the future character of the Evangelical Church in North America and its founder, the Rt. Rev. Robert Duncan.

References

Common Worship, London: Church House Publishing, 2000

Hatchett, Marion J., Commentary on the American prayer book, New York : Seabury Press, 1980

International Consultation on English Texts, Prayers We Have in Common: Agreed Liturgical Texts, 2nd revised edition, Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975.

Ephemeral Orthodox worship

As an Anglo-Catholic, when I thought of Catholic worship I thought of Latin, profound reverence, bells & smells. These guys (and they’re all guys) still hold to tradition with a capital T as part of a strong central authority and a continuous line back almost 2,000 years.

Alas, I found out that since Vatican II, American Catholics are almost as likely to have a sappy praise band as the average liberal Protestant denomination, and only slightly less likely than the average nondenom evangelical church. In fact, when flipping channels in my car radio to EWTN last month, I heard the same sappy CCM praise hymn that I recognized from my rare (but sometimes unavoidable) visits to Evangelical Rite II Anglican services. Yes, Pope Benedict hopes to restore some sanity to the RCC, but I think even his goals are modest.

Well, I thought, at least there’s the Orthodox. Ever since defecting from Anglicanism to swim the Bosphorus, JLeebcd has been signing the praises (sometimes literally) of his new denomination — while attacking the contradictions of his former denomination with the vengeance of a true convert. To listen to Mr. Leebcd, the Orthodox faith was Paradise Found, the one True Church preserving the historic traditional liturgy.

One of the links he’s been sending me has been to Ancient Faith Radio — chief propaganda ministry for the Antiochian Orthodox Church, sort of an online-only version of EWTN (or Issues Etc.). Perhaps the most prominent discussion of hymns and liturgy at the site are the podcasts of Father John Finley in a series called “Singing the Triumphal Hymn.” I checked out a few podcasts before realizing that the AOC is also afflicted with the CCM disease.

The autobiographical series traces the journey of Fr. Finley from his childhood and college upbringing as an Oklahoma Baptist to the AOC by way of the Antiochian Evangelical Orthodox Mission. His podcast biography says that he is “with the Missions and Evangelism Department of the Antiochian Archdiocese,” but doesn’t say what authority or role he wields.

In particular, I learned the most about Fr. Finley (if not the AOC) from his initial podcast in November 2008 entitled “Music to My Ears,” apparently reading from a 2003 article he wrote for Again Magazine, a defunct publication from Concillar Press.

After talking about his various praise compositions — first for evangelicals and then for the AEOM and AOC — about four minutes before the end Fr. Finley explicitly stated his thesis demanding contemporary hymns tied to the contemporary culture:

Whenever the subject of changing or modifying or developing the music is discussed, it seems that someone will always say. “We’re Orthodox, we don't change.”

Then I can certainly understand this statement when spoken in reference to the canon of the Holy Scriptures, the creeds, the doctrines of the faith, the structure of the services, and so on. But when we consider church art, this attitude relegates the artist — whether a musician or an icongrapher or an architect — to the role of scribe.

He argued it was essential for the church to encourage artists to continually develop new forms of expressing devotion through these arts:

The only alternative is to stagnate in the preservation of what might be called “museum quality music,” reducing the church's artistic relevance in society to that of a curator.

This candid egocentrism is appalling on so many level: the urgency of continually messing with the liturgy — as witnessed by the many faithful — is driven by the need for self-expression by a handful of self-nominated (or politically connected) artists.

I certainly agree with one part — the stuff that’s survived for centuries is “museum quality” and the stuff from the last 20 years is not. Fr. Finley sang some of his music and the most charitable thing that could be said is that it’s good for American Orthodox praise music. Unlike Sister Toolan’s greatest hit, I don’t think these 20th century contributions will survive (except in archives) into the 22nd century.

It’s ironic that the AOC (like JLeebcd) proclaim their message as one of “Ancient Faith,” while the American Orthodox church suffers from the same desire to chase the contemporary culture as their Roman brethren. To quote my comments on contemporary Catholic worship 19 months ago on this blog:

But, overall, the hymn choices seemed to alternate between lounge singer and bad campfire music. So not timeless (as in the centuries of Catholic heritage), not chosen from the best of the past 50 years of modern Christian music, and not even the sort of professionally composed CCM that might be heard on a praise music radio station.

(I was inspired to reuse this earlier passage by the praise of Vicar Josh Osbun.)

To respond to Fr. Finley (Baptist to Orthodox) and Mr. Leebcd (Episcopalian to Orthodox), I pull out my trump card — religion writer Terry Mattingly — who is Baptist-to-Episcopalian-to-Orthodox (AOC). He has frequently criticized the efforts by Christians to chase the culture, first with his book Pop Goes Religion and then with various appearances on the Issues Etc. (Lutheran) radio show. Like me, he strongly favors timeless hymns rather than the transient and contemporary ephemera of modern praise music.

Let me close with two quotes from his Issues Etc. interviews:

How many of us will be singing songs that our parents and grandparents sang? (March 19, 2006)

So is there anyone in the church older than Boomer rock? Are there any ties that bind this congregation to the church of the ages? It would seem not. (Nov. 11, 2007)