The Wonderful World of Words - part 7

The Rev. Know-it-all’s Wonderful World of Words! (Continued)

Liturgy. Here is another fancy word that people started using back in the 1960’s. We were taught all about liturgy. We had liturgy committees and liturgy planners and liturgists and para-liturgies and lots of other permutations of the word. Priests dare not say Mass without first consulting the liturgy committee. When I was in seminary we had something called the “theme liturgy.” Liturgy planners would ask, “What is the theme of the liturgy today?” I remember an old ordained curmudgeon who when asked that question said, “The theme of the liturgy today is the saving death of Jesus on the cross.” The liturgists didn’t get it. The world sprouted gloriously with home-brewed liturgists who had taken a course or two on “liturgy” which gave them the right to intervene in anything father was about to do. It was no longer enough to “say Mass.”

To simply “say Mass” showed an entire lack of creativity. Unless one prepared a theme and its unfolding by means of a number of exceedingly boring meetings, one was simply going through the motions. During Lent and Advent back at Bathsheba Bible College where I attended St. Dymphna’s college seminary, each dorm was assigned to choose and execute a theme for the liturgy of the day, Morning Prayer, noon Mass – excuse me Noon Eucharistic Liturgy – and Evening prayer. Once evening prayer consisted solely in the playing of the recorded sound track of the Wizard of Oz. 

That however was not the low point. That occurred at Morning Prayer a few weeks later. There we were about 300 sleepy adolescents gathered in chapel at 8 AM, when we heard the roar of an engine in the back of chapel and one of the liturgy planners did a wheelie on his motorcycle up the main aisle. The theme of the liturgy was the movie Easy Rider. You see the movies, we were taught, were

full of Christ figures and Easy Rider represented Christ the counter-cultural rebel, killed by those who just didn’t understand “groovieness.”  That was to the best of my memory the last time we had Evening or Morning Prayer in the seminary.

I was taught that liturgy is a Greek word that means the “work of the people”.  We were the people and we could do whatever the blazes we wanted to express ourselves at the community gathering – that is the LITURGY.  Liturgy after all means the work of the people.

This is not exactly true. During religious festivals in pre-Christian Greece, a wealthy citizen or a group of people might fund a religious drama. These were not simply morality plays, but a true calling up of the stories of the gods and the heroes of old. They were profoundly religious and had all the aura of a religious service in which the ancient Greeks could enter into the sacred world that had founded their cities and culture. Because they were sponsored by private citizens they were called a public (leito-) work (ergon). This is a bit different than the work of the people (tou laou in Greek.)

In the grand old days of the sixties we decided that since the liturgy was the work of the people we could do whatever we wanted to it. It was ours, not theirs. Power to the people, brother!  (Oops! and sister) Ah, the sixties! How I wish could remember them.  

A public work is quite different than the people’s work. A public work belongs to a whole community, and not to a small segment of it. Mass is the work of the whole Church – past, present and future – spread out through the world and through the ages. I cannot simply change what belongs to a whole community just because I think my particular spin is better than everyone else’s. The Mass is not my property. I belong to the Mass, especially if I am ordained as bishop, priest or deacon. We are the servants of the people, not its owners. So the next time someone who has taken a course in liturgy tells you that liturgy means the work of the people, you can say, “Well, that’s not quite true.  

Trust me. You will feel gloriously smug.

The Wonderful World of Words - part 6

(Another exciting installment of)

The Rev. Know-it-all’s Wonderful World of Words! (Continued)

There are lots of grand words being bandied about in church these days, words such as Eucharist, and Liturgy. These are Greek words, the meanings of which most people are quite ignorant. When I was a boy and directory information was a free service, we just called it Mass.  Unfortunately, Mass is not the best word for the central ceremony of the ancient Christian faith. Mass is a word that comes from the Latin word “Mitto” which means to send or to let go. Among the last words of the old Mass were, “Ite! Missa est,” which essentially means, “you can go now,” or even perhaps “get out of here, the priest needs a nap.”  (This second translation is a bit looser than the first which is more literal.)  “Go. It’s finished.” To which the congregation responded “Deo gratias!” (Or “thanks be to God!)  Again, a more poetic translation of the congregational response may be, “Thank God, the old windbag is finally finished!” 

In the early Church, people went to Mass because it was a taste of heaven on earth.  In later times when Christianity was the state religion there was a certain amount of force involved in the Sunday and holy day obligation.  If you weren’t at Mass regularly the local peasants might think you guilty of witchcraft or heresy or even worse, not believing in all this stuff.   One patiently endured the service until those precious words were heard ‒ “Ite, Missa est!” Since “Missa” was one of the only intelligible words heard by the unwashed mob, they started calling it the Missa, in effect the “Go Away!”  Imagine a conversation between two mud splattered peasant farmers in Lower Upper Hessia sometime during the Dark Ages “Are you going to the early Go Away or the late one?”   “Oh, the early Go Away, of course. They never have a sermon or a choir at that one and it only takes fifteen minutes.” Don’t be shocked at my cavalier attitude.  With the exception of knowing that the word “Mass” was derived from the word “to send away,” that is a conversation I often heard in my youth. Where I grew up, the Dark Ages as well as Prohibition lasted well into the 1960’s.

So, what should we call the unbloody re-presentation of Christ’s saving sacrifice on the cross?  I’m all for calling it “Mass.” After all, there has been a lot of linguistic water under the bridge. I always find people who talk about the Noon Liturgy or the Sunday Eucharist a bit tedious. Don’t get me wrong, the words Eucharist and Liturgy are useful especially when trying to speak with some theological precision. Still, you can always tell that someone has taken a theology course downtown when they bandy the word Eucharist or Liturgy about too frequently. If you meet any of these bandiers of fancy words, you will be able to ask them what these words mean and I’ll bet you they are clueless. If you can endure finishing this article you will know the precise meaning and origin of the terms and will be abler to make the fancy bandiers feel just a bit foolish.  Sounds like fun, no? 

The word Eucharist is a Greek word that means thanksgiving. The sages of the Jews at the time of Christ held that when the messiah came all the sacrifices of the law would cease except for the thanksgiving sacrifice, or in Hebrew the Korban Todah, “korban” meaning sacrifice and “Todah” meaning thanks in Hebrew. If you can pull out some Hebrew word you will definitely impress.  The thanksgiving sacrifice was a personal sacrifice. It could not be offered on Saturday, the Sabbath unless it was Passover.  It is my theory ‒ that I have pushed on you time and time again ‒ that the Christians offered Mass on Sunday, not on Saturday because they thought of the Mass as the fulfillment of the belief that it was the ultimate, the messianic thanksgiving sacrifice.

In the law, the thanksgiving sacrifice was offered when one had been saved from death. There was an offering of a lamb whose sacrifice blood was sprinkled along with loaves of bread and a pouring out of wine. The bread was taken home to be eaten by friends and family on that day, provided home was in Jerusalem. The reason that all the sacrifice of the law would be cancelled by the coming of the messiah is that there would be no more sin. The disciples quickly realized that Jesus had offered the messianic sacrifice at the last supper in which bread and wine became the lamb which was Christ. We have been offering it ever since, because our messiah Jesus has saved us from sin, the death of the soul, as well as giving us hope of eternal life.

Next week, Liturgy

PS ‒ the words “missal” and “missalette” (the book or pamphlet from which the Mass is read) as well as “missile” a projectile sometimes carrying a nuclear warhead are all derived from the same Latin root of “Mitto”.  It is best not to confuse the terms. If someone shouts, “Watch out, there is an incoming missile!”, he is probably not referring to any kind of prayer book.

The Wonderful World of Words - part 6

(Another exciting installment of)

The Rev. Know-it-all’s Wonderful World of Words! (Continued)

There are lots of grand words being bandied about in church these days, words such as Eucharist, and Liturgy. These are Greek words, the meanings of which most people are quite ignorant. When I was a boy and directory information was a free service, we just called it Mass.  Unfortunately, Mass is not the best word for the central ceremony of the ancient Christian faith. Mass is a word that comes from the Latin word “Mitto” which means to send or to let go. Among the last words of the old Mass were, “Ite! Missa est,” which essentially means, “you can go now,” or even perhaps “get out of here, the priest needs a nap.”  (This second translation is a bit looser than the first which is more literal.)  “Go. It’s finished.” To which the congregation responded “Deo gratias!” (Or “thanks be to God!)  Again, a more poetic translation of the congregational response may be, “Thank God, the old windbag is finally finished!” 

In the early Church, people went to Mass because it was a taste of heaven on earth.  In later times when Christianity was the state religion there was a certain amount of force involved in the Sunday and holy day obligation.  If you weren’t at Mass regularly the local peasants might think you guilty of witchcraft or heresy or even worse, not believing in all this stuff.   One patiently endured the service until those precious words were heard ‒ “Ite, Missa est!” Since “Missa” was one of the only intelligible words heard by the unwashed mob, they started calling it the Missa, in effect the “Go Away!”  Imagine a conversation between two mud splattered peasant farmers in Lower Upper Hessia sometime during the Dark Ages “Are you going to the early Go Away or the late one?”   “Oh, the early Go Away, of course. They never have a sermon or a choir at that one and it only takes fifteen minutes.” Don’t be shocked at my cavalier attitude.  With the exception of knowing that the word “Mass” was derived from the word “to send away,” that is a conversation I often heard in my youth. Where I grew up, the Dark Ages as well as Prohibition lasted well into the 1960’s.

So, what should we call the unbloody re-presentation of Christ’s saving sacrifice on the cross?  I’m all for calling it “Mass.” After all, there has been a lot of linguistic water under the bridge. I always find people who talk about the Noon Liturgy or the Sunday Eucharist a bit tedious. Don’t get me wrong, the words Eucharist and Liturgy are useful especially when trying to speak with some theological precision. Still, you can always tell that someone has taken a theology course downtown when they bandy the word Eucharist or Liturgy about too frequently. If you meet any of these bandiers of fancy words, you will be able to ask them what these words mean and I’ll bet you they are clueless. If you can endure finishing this article you will know the precise meaning and origin of the terms and will be abler to make the fancy bandiers feel just a bit foolish.  Sounds like fun, no? 

The word Eucharist is a Greek word that means thanksgiving. The sages of the Jews at the time of Christ held that when the messiah came all the sacrifices of the law would cease except for the thanksgiving sacrifice, or in Hebrew the Korban Todah, “korban” meaning sacrifice and “Todah” meaning thanks in Hebrew. If you can pull out some Hebrew word you will definitely impress.  The thanksgiving sacrifice was a personal sacrifice. It could not be offered on Saturday, the Sabbath unless it was Passover.  It is my theory ‒ that I have pushed on you time and time again ‒ that the Christians offered Mass on Sunday, not on Saturday because they thought of the Mass as the fulfillment of the belief that it was the ultimate, the messianic thanksgiving sacrifice. In the law, the thanksgiving sacrifice was offered when one had been saved from death. There was an offering of a lamb whose sacrifice blood was sprinkled along with loaves of bread and a pouring out of wine. The bread was taken home to be eaten by friends and family on that day, provided home was in Jerusalem. The reason that all the sacrifice of the law would be cancelled by the coming of the messiah is that there would be no more sin. The disciples quickly realized that Jesus had offered the messianic sacrifice at the last supper in which bread and wine became the lamb which was Christ. We have been offering it ever since, because our messiah Jesus has saved us from sin, the death of the soul, as well as giving us hope of eternal life.

Next week, Liturgy

PS ‒ the words “missal” and “missalette” (the book or pamphlet from which the Mass is read) as well as “missile” a projectile sometimes carrying a nuclear warhead are all derived from the same Latin root of “Mitto”.  It is best not to confuse the terms. If someone shouts, “Watch out, there is an incoming missile!”, he is probably not referring to any kind of prayer book.

THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF WORDS - PART 5

The Rev. Know it all’s Wonderful World of Words! (Continued)

Dear Rev. Know-it-all,

I have a word for you: ἰχθύς. What does that mean? My strange pastor has just put up a sign in front of the church which has the church name, a line drawing of a fish with that word inside the fish and at the bottom of the sign there are five words “Jesus Christ Son of God Savior.”

I can never understand why this guy won’t just speak English.

Yours,

Helen Istick

Dear Helen,

Your pastor is clearly a well-educated and cultivated scholar. What he has done is to place the most ancient Christian Creed on the sign in front of the church. “ἰχθύς” is a Greek word that means “fish,” but the first Christians used it as an acrostic, also a Greek word which means, “A series of lines in which certain letters, usually the first in each line, form a word. The letters of the Greek word for fish (ἰχθύς) can be used as a secret code to say “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.” Here’s how it works.

Iota   (ἰ=i in English) stands for Iēsous, Greek for “Jesus”.

Chi    (χ=kh or ch) stands for Christos, Greek for “anointed” or Messiah.

Theta  (θ=th) stands for Theou, Greek for “God's”.

Upsilon (y or u) stands for ‘yios, Greek for “Son”.

Sigma (s) stands for sōtēr, Greek for “Savior”.

It’s like the old barber shop quartet song “M” is for the million things she gave me, “O” is for the other things she gave me… put them all together they spell “Mother.”  In this acrostic of “I, ch, th, y, s” they all spell “fish.” A bit of a letdown, until you understand the symbol. The fish made the early Christians think of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes which was a symbolic allusion to the Holy Eucharist. It also reminded them of the sign of Jonah in the belly of the whale, thus reminding them of the resurrection after Jesus’ three day in the tomb.

In the first centuries of the church’s life, it was against the law to be a Christian then as it frequently still is. When a Christian saw the sign of the fish he knew he was in good company. The fish symbol was a secret way to express the earliest creed of Christians. It was in use at least a century and probably much longer than the Apostles Creed or the Nicene Creed, both of which appear around 300 years after the death and resurrection of the Lord.  We see the fish symbolism all over the catacombs in which the first Christians buried their dead in the hope of the resurrection. Fish are all over the New Testament, the multiplication of loaves and fishes, the miraculous catch of fish after the resurrection and the subsequent fish that Jesus cooked for the disciples on the beach that day. Jesus says they will be fishers of men and don’t forget the fish with the tax coin in its mouth.

The Gospels have fish swimming all through them. And fish was the food of the poor. Only the rich ate beef, and other meat was eaten rarely, but anyone with a pole, a line and hook could go down to the river or the sea and catch a fish. So too, the Gospel is food for the poor. When you see fish bumper stickers or fish jewelry, fish ornaments and decorations, understand that the first Christians are still reminding us of the faith for which they lived and died the faith that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God and the savior of the world.

Yours,

the Rev. Know-it-all