The Gospels of the Epiphany (Part 3)

The introit of the Third Sunday after Epiphany begins with the same words as another antiphon from the Matins of that feast, “Adore God, all ye His Angels.” The reference to Epiphany is even more explicit in the Gradual, taken from the one-hundred-and-first psalm, “The nations will fear thy name, o Lord, and all the kings of the earth Thy glory.”

On the previous Sunday, the Church reads of the first miracle occurring in the Gospel of St John; on this Sunday are read the first two miracles in the Gospel of St Matthew (8, 1-13), namely, the healing of a leper, and of the servant of the centurion of Capharnaum. The Roman centurion, when asking for the cure of his gravely ill and beloved servant, declares himself the inferior of a provincial carpenter, unworthy to receive Him into his home. This Gospel is therefore not simply the story of a miracle, but also of the nations’ confession of the divinity of Christ; even the might of the Roman Empire humbles itself before Him, as the Magi did at His birth. The story of the centurion is one of the very few that is used more than once in the temporal cycle of readings, being also the Gospel of the Thursday after Ash Wednesday. In the liturgical rite which originated in Rome, and is now celebrated in every corner of the world, his confession of faith in Christ has been part of the rite of Holy Communion for many centuries.

Christ and the Centurion, by Paolo Veronese, ca. 1571

The remaining Sundays of the season after Epiphany have their own prayers and Scriptural readings, but their Gregorian antiphons are repeated from this third Sunday. On the fourth Sunday, the last which can occur before the Christmas season ends on the Purification, the Gospel recounts yet another manifestation of Christ, the calming of the waters of the Sea of Galilee. (Matt. 8, 23-27) Up to this point in St Matthew’s Gospel, the miracles he recounts have all been healings; this is the first miracle of dominion over inanimate creation. This Gospel was perhaps also chosen as a vague reminiscence of the Office of the Epiphany, in which the antiphon of the Benedicite reads, “Seas and rivers, bless the Lord, sing to the Lord a hymn, o fountains, alleluja.” The last two Sundays after Epiphany always fall after the Christmas season ends on February 2nd, and the Gospels chosen for them are no longer manifestations of Christ, but parables.

At most of the Masses associated with the Epiphany, (the vigil, the feast, the two Sundays after the feast), the text of the Communion antiphon is taken from the Gospel. On the third Sunday, however, it is taken from a Gospel text that is not read at all in the Missal of St Pius V. In the Tridentine missal, the ferial days of most seasons have no proper Scriptural readings, but simply repeat those of the previous Sunday, a custom well-established in Rome long before Trent. Many medieval missals, on the other hand, including those of Sarum, Liège and most of the churches of the German Empire, preserve an older custom of the Roman Rite, whereby proper readings were assigned to the Wednesdays and Fridays throughout the year. The story from St Luke’s Gospel of Christ in the synagogue at Capharnaum, (4, 14-22), is assigned by the very oldest surviving Roman lectionary, the seventh-century Wurzburg manuscript, to an unspecified day after the Sunday of the wedding at Cana. After Christ reads a passage from the book of Isaiah, He declares the words of the prophet to be fulfilled in by His coming to Israel; it is the Lord Himself who manifests to the world the true meaning of the words of sacred Scripture. This Gospel’s former presence in the corpus of Mass-lessons is the origin of the Communion antiphon which is sung until Septuagesima Sunday arrives; “All wondered at these things which proceeded from the mouth of God.”

The ancient lectionaries and medieval missals add a number of other Gospel episodes to the season, such as the arrival of Christ in Galilee (Matt. 4, 12-17), and several of the early healings performed by Him. The miraculous multiplication of the loaves and fishes, and the feeding of the five-thousand is also occasionally counted as part of the Epiphany story. The Ambrosian liturgy’s Epiphany hymn Illuminans altissime devotes three strophes to this event, more than it gives to the coming of the Magi, the Baptism of Christ or the Wedding at Cana; then, curiously no further reference to it is made until the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany, when it is read from the Gospel of St Luke (9, 10-17). The same hymn is sung in the Mozarabic Rite, whose preface of the feast also dwells at length upon the event, but the Gospel itself is never read in the Epiphany season. The Wurzburg lectionary assigns the story to be read twice in the seventh week after Epiphany, first from St Mark and then from St Matthew, but these readings are not in the eighth-century Murbach lectionary, or the medieval missals.

The Crucifixion, by Ottaviano Nelli (1421-24), from the chapel of the Palazzo Trinci in Foligno, Italy; Blessed James of Voragine, who was archbishop of Genoa, Italy from 1292 until his death in 1298 or 99, is the bishop on the left. (Photograph by Georges Jansoone from Wikimedia Commons; CC BY-SA 4.0)

Blessed James of Voragine, the author of the much maligned (and unjustly so) Golden Legend, says that the feast commemorates four miracles, and, citing the authority of the Venerable Bede and of the aforementioned hymn, notes that the feast was also called Phagiphania, from the Greek word for eating. He also notes, with some of the critical spirit he is habitually attacked for lacking, “but concerning this fourth miracle, it is doubted whether it happened on this day, both because this is not read in the original text of Bede, and because it is said in the sixth chapter of John, where this miracle is dealt with, ‘Easter was nigh.’ ” (Legenda aurea cap. 14)

Sicard of Cremona agrees in rejecting this tradition as “not authentic”, and it is very likely that the prominent position of the story on Laetare Sunday is the reason why it was early on removed from the Epiphany season. As the church of Milan sings in an antiphon of Epiphany Matins, “Thou alone hast wrought many wonders, o Lord God,” and some must be saved for the rest of the Church’s year.

The Gospels of the Epiphany (Part 2)

As with the other solemnities of the Lord, the Sunday within the octave of the Epiphany has its own proper Mass, which begins with the introit In excelso throno; the Gospel of this Mass is that of the finding of the twelve-year old Jesus among the doctors in the temple. (St Luke 2, 42-52) The only canonical episode of the hidden years of Christ’s life has been an object of devotion as a mystery of the Rosary for centuries, and was formerly celebrated with a particular feast by the Dominican Order; it is fittingly placed by the sacred liturgy between His birth and the beginning of His public ministry. When Pope Benedict XV decided to extend the feast of the Holy Family to the universal calendar in 1921, it was fixed to the Sunday within the octave of the Epiphany, since the Gospel, which sets the key note of the whole Mass and Office, is the same as that of In excelso throno.

On the octave itself, the Church celebrates the public manifestation of Christ to the people of Israel in His Baptism, at which God proclaims, “This is my beloved Son; hear ye Him.” Sicard of Cremona comments that the second miracle celebrated by the Epiphany, the Baptism of the Lord, “is put off until the octave day, because (baptism) takes the place of circumcision, which was celebrated on the eighth day.” The public revelation of Christ to the nations, however, is deferred to Pentecost, when the Apostles begin the mission of the Church, which will last until the end of the world.

In the Missal and Breviary of St. Pius V, and subsequent revisions, the octave day of the Epiphany is textually identical to the Epiphany itself, with the exception of the three prayers of the Mass, the Gospel, which is Saint John’s account of the Baptism (1, 29-34), and the readings of Matins. Prior to the Tridentine reform, however, the Office also had a large number of proper antiphons for the psalms of Matins, Lauds and Vespers, all of them centered on the Baptism. These were entirely suppressed from the Roman Breviary in the Tridentine revision, a most uncharacteristic act of a reform that was generally very conservative. The reason would appear to be that these antiphons are clearly Greek in origin; indeed, they were even recognized to be such by the liturgical commentators of the medieval period. These were retained by several breviaries of the religious orders after Trent; the antiphons for the Gospel canticles are:

At the Magnificat of First Vespers The soldier baptizeth the king, the servant his Lord, John the Savior: the water of the Jordan is struck dumb, the dove beareth witness: the Father’s voice is heard: this is my beloved Son.
At the Benedictus John the Forerunner exsulteth, when, the Lord having been baptized in the Jordan, the cause of rejoicing to the word is made: remission of our sins is made. ‘O thou that sanctifieth the waters’, let us all cry out, ‘have mercy upon us!’
At the Magnificat of Second Vespers The fountains of the waters sare sanctified, as Christ appeareth in glory to the world: draw ye waters from the fountains of the Savior; for now Christ our God hath sanctified every creature.

The Baptism of Christ, from the Menologion of Basil II, ca. 985

In several medieval uses of the Roman Rite, white was the liturgical color of the season between the octave of the Epiphany and the Purification, where the Missal of St. Pius V prescribes green; this custom survived in much of France until the later part of the nineteenth century. It reflects the fact that the Masses of the first three Sundays of this period continue the solemnity of the Lord’s manifestation, extending the season of Christmas to include the entire forty days from the Nativity to the Purification. A similar custom existed in many places for the season after Pentecost, whereby red vestments were used instead of green; this is still the tradition of the Ambrosian Rite for all but the last four weeks before Advent.

The Office of the Epiphany itself refers to the conversion of water into wine at the wedding at Cana as one of the three miracles commemorated by the feast. (St John 2, 1-11) The fourth stanza of the principal hymn of the feast, Crudelis Herodes, reads:

Novum genus potentiae

Aquae rubescunt hydriae,

Vinumque jussa fundere,

Mutavit unda originem.

This is translated (in a somewhat archaic style) by the English Breviary of the Marquess of Bute:

A strange miraculous power is shown,

The water pots are ruddy grown,

Whose waters by command divine

Their nature change, and yield pure wine.

Although this is sung every day through the octave, the reading of the Gospel itself is delayed until the second Sunday after the feast. The tradition of commemorating this episode alongside the visit of the Magi and the Baptism of Christ is a very ancient one; St Maximus of Turin refers to it as “the tradition of our fathers” in the mid-fifth century, and the three events are mentioned together in the liturgical texts of many different rites. Of the various actions by which Christ manifests Himself as Our salvation, this one was undoubtedly chosen for such a prominent place because St John calls it the first of Christ’s miracles, whereby “he made manifest (ephanerose) His glory.”

The Wedding at Cana, painting in the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua, Italy, by Giotto, 1305.

The introit of this Mass is almost identical to the fifth antiphon of Epiphany Matins, taken from the sixty-fifth psalm: “Let all the earth adore Thee, o God, and sing to Thee; let it sing to Thy name, o Most High.” These words are sung on the feast because the three Magi were understood to represent all the ends of the known world, one from Asia, one from Africa and one from Europe. Although this tradition concerning their number and origin was almost universally accepted in the Middle Ages, and the connection with the Epiphany is fairly obvious, the liturgical writers of the era also knew of a curious story concerning the origin of this introit. It is recounted thus by Sicard of Cremona:

It is said that Augustus Caesar decreed for the glory of the Roman Empire, that from each city of the world someone should come to Rome, bearing as much earth as can be held in one hand, so that by this it might be clear that all were subject to the Roman Empire… and from this earth (terra) there arose a small mountain, upon which a church was later built, and dedicated on this Sunday. Therefore, on its dedication is sung “Let all the earth adore Thee.” (Mitrale V, 11)

The modern reader should be aware that medieval authors often use a phrase like “It is said…” to indicate a story which may not be altogether reliable. However, there is in fact an artificial mountain in Rome, the Mons Testaceus (“Monte Testaccio” in Italian), a heap of discarded potsherds near the location of some warehouses of the ancient city; it is well over a hundred feet high, probably even higher in antiquity, and more than half a mile around at the base. It is easily seen to be a man-made structure, and the medieval mind perhaps found it difficult to imagine that such an achievement of engineering could be anything so prosaic as a garbage dump; hence the story.

A view of the Mons Testaceus in the 19th century.

The Gospels of the Epiphany (Part 1)

The feast of the Epiphany is one of the richest of the Church’s liturgical year, commemorating several different events in the life of Our Lord. The Roman and other western rites have traditionally laid the strongest emphasis on the visit of the three Magi to the infant Jesus, which is recounted in the Gospel of the feast; the paintings and sarcophagi from the catacombs of Rome attest to the great antiquity of this tradition. In the Byzantine Rite, on the other hand, the visit to the Magi is read on Christmas Day, and the Epiphany is principally focused on the Baptism of the Lord, as may be seen in the icon of the feast. The Roman Rite traditionally assigns the celebration of this latter event to the octave day of the Epiphany, which was officially renamed “the Baptism of the Lord” in the 1961 rubrical reform; this change was carried over into the post-Conciliar liturgy. The Epiphany is also traditionally the day on which the date of Easter is announced to the faithful, and the feast and its vigil are the occasion of several blessings in the Rituale.

The Adoration of the Magi, depicted on a Christian sarcophagus of the 4th century, now in the Pio-Christian collection of the Vatican Museums.

At the first Mass of Christmas, the Church reads the revelation of the Incarnation to the people of the ancient covenant, represented by the shepherds; at the dawn Mass, these men of humble estate come to Bethlehem, and behold the Creator of the Universe as an infant sleeping in a manger. This private manifestation of God to the people of Israel on Christmas is complemented by a similarly private manifestation on Epiphany to the nations of the world, in the persons of the Magi. As St Fulgentius says in a sermon read during the octave of the Epiphany, “The shepherds were the first-fruits of the Jews; the Magi have become the first-fruits of the gentiles.” St Matthew does not say that the Wise Men found the Holy Family still at the stable in Bethlehem, where they had been found earlier by the shepherds, but the Church’s artistic tradition has depicted it thus, precisely to emphasize the connection between these two “epiphanies”.

The last antiphon of Christmas Matins is “God hath made known, alleluja, his salvation, alleluja,” words which are repeated at both Lauds and Vespers; the psalm from which they are taken, Psalm 97, has been associated with the Nativity of the Lord from very ancient times. A subsequent verse of the same psalm is sung as the communion antiphon of the third and most solemn of the three Christmas Masses, and is repeated several times during the octave: “All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God.” These words are fulfilled in the Epiphany, when the representatives of the ends of the earth, the Magi, come to worship the Christ Child, God Incarnate for our salvation. Therefore, although the Gospel does not say how many they were, Christian art from the earliest times (and especially in Rome) has usually shown them as three, representing the three parts of the world known to ancient peoples, Asia, Africa and Europe, descendents of the three sons of Noah.

The Adoration of the Magi, by Flemish painter Gerard David, ca. 1490.

From the earliest times, the Roman Gospel of the third Mass of Christmas has been the Prologue of St John (1, 1-14); this is attested already in the middle of the seventh century in the very oldest lectionary of the Roman Rite, the Comes Romanus of Wurzburg. In the high Middle Ages, the custom emerged of reading this same text at the end of the Mass, as part of the celebrant’s thanksgiving. At the third Mass of Christmas, therefore, the Gospel of the Epiphany was read in its place, uniting the revelation of the Incarnate Word to Israel with His revelation to the nations. It is worth noting that the Gospels of both Christmas and Epiphany end with a genuflection, by which we imitate the Magi in kneeling before the Divine Infant, just as we honor the Incarnation every Sunday by genuflecting during the Creed at the words “Et incarnatus est.” (The 1961 rubrical reform of Pope St John XXIII prescribes that there be no last Gospel at this Mass.)

In the Middle Ages, another pair of Gospels was added to the liturgy to associate the feasts of Christmas and Epiphany. At Matins of Christmas, the Genealogy of Christ according to St Matthew (1, 1-16) was sung before the Te Deum and the Midnight Mass, at Epiphany Matins, the Genealogy according to St Luke (3, 21 – 4, 1). Both of these were normally sung with the same ceremonies that accompany the singing of the Gospel at Solemn Mass. Since these texts are fairly repetitive, musicians composed special and elaborate music for them; they were often set for two deacons or groups of deacons, who would alternate the verses.

St Matthew’ genealogy was clearly chosen for Christmas because it ends with St Joseph, “the husband of Mary, from whom was born Jesus, that is called Christ.” In German-speaking lands, it was usually follow by the antiphon “O mundi Domina”, a final O antiphon on the cusp between Advent and Christmas. That of St Luke was then assigned to Epiphany because it is preceded by an account of the Baptism of Christ (vs. 21-23), one of the principal events commemorated by the feast. This Gospel ends with Christ departing into the desert “lead by the Spirit”, a distant prelude to the coming Lenten fast. Commenting on the reason why these two Gospels are read on their respective feasts, Sicard of Cremona writes in about 1200, “Matthew reckons (the genealogy) by descending (from Abraham to Joseph), because he is describing the humanity of Christ, by which He descends to us. Luke recounts (the genealogy) ascending, since from the baptized One he ascends to God, showing the effects of baptism; because the baptized become sons of God.” (Mitrale, V, 6)

Folio 19r of the Schuttern Gospels, an early 9th century illuminated manuscript produced at the Abbey of Schuttern in Baden-Württemberg, Germany.

These texts occur in virtually every use of the Roman Rite except that of the Roman Curia itself, the ancestor of the Breviary of St. Pius V; they were retained after the Tridentine reform in the proper breviaries of certain religious orders, including the Premonstratensians, Dominicans, and Carmelites of the Ancient Observance.

Here is a marvelous recording of the Genealogy of Christ according to St Luke from Epiphany Matins.

An equally nice version of the Genealogy according to St Matthew from Christmas Matins, sung by the Schola Hungarica; brevitatis causa, the names between “the wife of Uriah” and Jacob, the father of St Joseph, are omitted in this recording. (There is small mistake at the very beginning; the word “autem” is incorrectly added after the name of Abraham.)

Also from the Schola Hungarica, the antiphon “O mundi Domina”; the music is very similar to that of the standard seven O antiphons of Advent.

Aña O mundi Domina, regio ex semine orta, ex tuo jam processit Christus alvo, tamquam sponsus de thalamo; hic jacet in praesepio, qui et sidera regit. ~ O Lady of the world, born of royal descent, Christ hath now come forth from Thy womb, as a bridegroom from his chamber; he lieth in a manger, that also ruleth the stars.

Other Gospels for the Ascension

The Roman Rite has various ways of arranging the Masses during an octave. That of Easter, for example, has a completely proper Mass for every day, that of Pentecost for every day but Thursday, which was originally an “aliturgical” day; when its Mass was instituted later, it was given proper readings, but everything else is repeated from Sunday. The feast of Ss Peter and Paul is continued with one Mass for the days within the octave, and another for the octave day itself, plus the special Commemoration of St Paul on June 30th. Some others, however, especially the relatively late ones like Corpus Christi and All Saints, simply repeat the Mass of the day throughout the octave.

A folio of the Echternach Sacramntary, 895 AD, with the last two prayers of the Mass of St Paul, those of Ss Processus and Martinian on July 2, and the first two prayers of the octave of Ss Peter and Paul.

The feast of the Ascension falls into the latter category, although the Mass of the Sunday within the octave, which is older than the octave itself, is different. Octaves are for the contemplation of mysteries that are too great for a single day, and it is certainly true that “repetita juvant”, a proverb which the Roman Rite, with its habitual conservatism, historically took very much to heart. One might argue, however, that there was some room for expanding the repertoire of readings within this octave in particular, in a way that would have been fully consonant with the tradition of the Rite, and expanded the scope of such contemplation.

The very oldest lectionary of the Roman Rite, the Comes (the Latin word for “companion”) of Wurzburg, attests to the Roman system of readings as it was in the middle of the 7th century. (The manuscript itself was copied out in roughly 700-750.) Although there are some notable differences, it is unmistakably the same system as that of the Missal of St Pius V. Its Gospels for the Easter season are almost entirely the same, while those of the second oldest Comes, that of Murbach, are exactly the same. Both of them also attest to a feature which was not included in the late medieval Missal of the Roman Curia, the immediate predecessor of that of St Pius V, namely, a series of ferial readings for the Wednesdays and Fridays throughout the year. In Wurzburg, this feature is very irregular; some weeks have readings for both days, some have one for Saturday as well, but others them have only for one day, and others have none. In Murbach, which is from roughly a century later, it has been completely regularized, and every Wednesday and Friday has readings assigned to it.

On the Wednesday after the Ascension, the Gospel is the very end of St Luke, chapter 24, 49-53. (Ss Matthew and John do not describe the Ascension, although Christ Himself refers to it in John 20, 17, in the words that form the antiphon for the Benedictus, “I go up to my Father and yours, my God and yours, alleluia.”) The Roman Rite tends to choose shorter passages than both the Ambrosian and Byzantine Rites, which have a longer selection from this passage, verses 36-53 (everything after the Supper at Emmaus), as the main Gospel of the feast; the Byzantines read the Roman Gospel at Orthros. In the Neo-Gallican Use of Paris, which expanded the Roman corpus of Scriptural readings considerably, while keeping to the traditional structure of the lectionary, verses 44-53 were assigned to the octave day of the Ascension.

Another passage which is connected to the feast is one of the most beautiful in St John’s Gospel, chapter 17, which Biblical scholars now often call the “priestly prayer.” On the vigil of the Ascension, the Missal of St Pius V has only the first 10½ verses, breaking off at vs. 11 “… and I come to thee.” The rest of the chapter is not read in either the temporal or sanctoral cycles, but verses 11-23 are the Gospel of the Votive Mass to remove a schism. In the Murbach lectionary, the rest of passage is read on the Wednesday following the Fourth Sunday after Easter; on the Sunday after the Ascension, the Ambrosian Rite reads the full chapter, while the Byzantine reads the first 13 verses. The revised Parisian Use kept the traditional Roman Gospel for the vigil, then very cleverly divided the rest into two parts. Verses 11b-19, in which Christ prays for the Apostles, is read on the Friday within the octave of the Ascension; the rest of the chapter, in which He prays “also for those who shall believe in Me though their word”, is assigned to Tuesday.

Two leaves of the Parisian Missal of 1736, with part of the propers for the Mass for the Friday after the octave of the Ascension, and the beginning of the vigil of Pentecost.

The Parisian Use is in many respects inspired by tradition, as in the examples given above, but did not shy away from innovations, which vary in quality. One of its better innovations, which has no precedent in the ancient Roman lectionaries, is the Gospel chosen for the Friday between the Octave of the Ascension and the vigil of Pentecost, which is traditionally celebrated as a kind of extension of the octave. (The Roman Missal repeats the Gospel of the Sunday). The liturgy of the Ascension often looks forward to the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost; an example is the responsory “If I do not go, the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, will not come.” With the coming of the Holy Spirit, the Apostles will go out in the world to preach the Gospel, for which they, and many others after them, will receive the crown of martyrdom. The Parisian Use therefore moves away from St John, who dominates the Easter season, and takes this passage from St Luke, 12, 8-12, which looks forward to the ongoing witness to the life and teachings of Christ in the mission of His Church.

“At that time, Jesus said to His disciples: Whosoever shall confess me before men, him shall the Son of man also confess before the angels of God. But he that shall deny me before men, shall be denied before the angels of God. And whosoever speaketh a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him: but to him that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven. And when they shall bring you into the synagogues, and to magistrates and powers, be not solicitous how or what you shall answer, or what you shall say; For the Holy Ghost shall teach you in the same hour what you must say.”

The Per Evangelica Dicta

Lost in Translation #108

At a Solemn High Mass, after the deacon finishes the Gospel, the subdeacon takes the Gospel book to the priest, who kisses it and says quietly: Per evangelica dicta deleantur nostra delicta. At a Missa cantata or Low Mass, the priest takes the Missal in his hands and kisses it, saying the same prayer.

Per evangelica dicta deleantur nostra delicta is in the new Missal as well. In the 2011 English edition, it is translated as:

Through the words of the Gospel may our sins be wiped away. [1]

The earlier ICEL translation had changed the sense of the text with “May the words of the Gospel wipe away our sins.” [2] The passive verb (deleantur) was changed to active, and the words themselves became the direct agents that wipe away sins rather than the instruments with which God wipes away sins.

All of the preconciliar hand Missals that I consulted had a translation similar to the 2011 English translation:

By the words of the Gospel may our sins be blotted out. [3]

By the words of the holy Gospel may our sins be blotted out. [4]

May our sins be blotted out by the words of the Gospel. [5]

By the words of the Gospel may our sins be taken away. [6]

Through the words of our Gospel may our sins be blotted out. [7]

What all these translations have in common is their treatment of dicta as a noun. Dicta can indeed be a noun (the accusative plural of dictum,i), but it can also be a past participle of the verb dico, dicere, in which in case it can be translated:

By virtue of these evangelical passages having being said, may our sins be blotted out.

I do not think it is a mistake to treat dicta as a noun so long as its “participled” meaning is also kept in mind, for it seems to me that the prayer is asking for the action of liturgically proclaiming the Gospel to have the effect of forgiving sins. Even though dicta means “words,” I think it is better to translate it as “sayings” (another one of its meanings) in order to highlight the speaking or acting emphasis of the prayer. The problem with “words” is that words can appear on pages and stay there. “Sayings,” on the other hand, even when they are written down, cannot etymologically escape their relationship to speaking.

In any event, it is an astonishing prayer, for it connects the mere hearing of the Gospel at Mass with absolution; it is asking for the Gospel proclamation to function as a sacramental, even though we have had several already, from the Asperges to the Confiteor to the Prayers Ascending the Altar. But the prayer is grounded in the Bible. In Luke’s Gospel (6, 18), we read how those who were troubled by unclean spirits and who heard Jesus speak were cured. And we truly hear Jesus speak when His Gospels are proclaimed.

In other words, the liturgical proclamation of the Gospel is far more than a Sunday Bible School lesson; it is a re-presencing of the Son of God through His words, and it is therefore more powerful than when the Bible is read extra-liturgically, as in a classroom or even when it is read again in the vernacular during the liturgical interlude comprised of the homily. (It is for this reason that some TLM communities do not stand for the vernacular re-reading of the Gospel or use the liturgical apparatus for the Gospel; the non-liturgical re-reading does not put us in the presence of Christ as does the liturgical proclamation.)

One of the interesting implications of this theology of liturgical proclamation, incidentally, is that it reveals a problem with the custom in some Novus Ordo parishes of ushering children away during the Liturgy of the Word for their own Bible study. The goal of increasing biblical literacy in the young is admirable, but they are missing a graced moment.

Good, but not the same

We end with Fr. Nicholas Gihr’s commentary, which is worth quoting at length:

If the Gospel is taken into the heart and preserved therein, with all that esteem and submission, love and joy, which the kissing of the book denotes, then is the Gospel also able “to blot out our sins.” It is self-evident that no such power of effacing sin may be ascribed to the words of the Gospel, as is peculiar to the forms of the Sacraments of Baptism and Penance: they are only a kind of Sacramental in a more general sense and have, therefore, assuredly a great power of awakening and promoting that disposition of soul by which venial sins are effaced, or which prepares for and renders one worthy of receiving the Sacraments. The word of God, which is accompanied by the interior working of grace, exercises a redeeming, healing and sanctifying influence on man when he is properly disposed, by exciting faith, hope and charity, fear and contrition, conversion and amendment of life. It is not only a powerful means of clearing the soul of the excrescence of sin and imperfection, but it possesses, moreover, other beneficial effects besides. “Are not My words as a fire, saith the Lord, and as a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces?” (Jer. 23, 29.) Yea, the words of the Lord are spirit and life: they are powerful, two-edged, penetrating. When Christ on the road to Emmaus “opened” the meaning to the two disciples of “the Scriptures, their hearts burned within them.” The word of God has a marvellous power for enlightening the eyes, for imparting wisdom to the lowly and the humble, for rejoicing the heart and refreshing the soul. In like manner, may the living and quickening word of God, which abides forever, impart to us “salvation and protection,” may it purify, consecrate and sanctify our souls ever more and more. For “the Gospel is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth.” (Rom. 1, 16). [8]

Notes

[1] 2011 Roman Missal, 9.

[2] 1985 Sacramentary, 365.

[3] Baronius Press, 919; Catholic Publications Press, 38; Cabrol, 26.

[4] Stedman, 41.

[5] Lasance, 765.

[6] Saint Joseph, 554.

[7] 1959 St. Andrew, 803.

[8] Gihr, 482-83.

The Gospel Introduction

Lost in Translation #107

Whereas there are introductory settings for the Epistle, there is only one for the Gospel: In illo tempore or “At that time.” There is an Epistle setting, In diebus illis or “In those days,” that is similar but more vague. “In those days” can suggest something like “In olden times”—the events in question happened a long time ago, but we are not exactly certain when, or perhaps it is not that important. It does suggest, however, that the events did happen, unlike the ubiquitous introduction to fairy tales. “Once upon a time,” of course, is code for “Never did this happen in time.”

In illo tempore also attests to the historical reality of the story that is to follow it, but it has a specific and unique epoch in mind: the thirty-three years when the Son of God walked (or as an infant, crawled) upon the face of the earth. Each word is significant. The Christ-event happened in time: the Word who is the Beginning (Principium) entered into the middle of the human story and dwelt among us. The historicity of Jesus Church is essential to the Christian faith; if the Gospels are stories about a mythical figure, our faith is a fraud. Consequently, the Gospels emphasize their own historical reality. Consider Luke 3, 1-2:

Now in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and Philip his brother tetrarch of Iturea, and the country of Trachonitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilina, under the high priests Annas and Caiphas; the word of the Lord was made unto John, the son of Zachary, in the desert.

The pains that Luke takes to date the moment when St. John the Baptist was called by God to preach the coming of the Kingdom is a far cry from “Once upon a time.”

Bartolomeo Veneto, St. John the Baptist, 16th century

The adjective ille is also important. Jesus Christ entered into our historical condition, but there is a difference between living during Jesus’ public ministry and living after, just as there is a difference between “B.C.” and “A.D.” As both the Bible and Church Fathers attest, there are several distinct periods of sacred history. These periods arise, are given their own set of dispensations, and then come to an end. The age before the Law was replaced by the age under it, and that age, in turn, was closed when Jesus Christ established the New Covenant. Likewise, the age of divine revelation (which ended at the death of the last Apostle) gave way to a different era, the era immediately preceding the Second Coming. It is that era in which we now find ourselves. Despite the expanse of two thousand years and the plethora of cultural and technological changes that separate us from the Christians who outlived the Beloved Disciple, we are still living in the same age as they, the last age of mankind before the Parousia.

To say, then, that certain events happened “at that time” is to acknowledge that they did not happen “at this time,” in this current age.

As we mentioned two weeks ago, In illo tempore was retained in the new Roman Missal and appears in the official translations of several languages except English. The decree announcing the new lectionary states that the new rite will be keeping the customary verba introductoria, but individual languages, pending permission from the competent authority, can change them or omit them altogether. [1] One wonders why these venerable settings were made optional, and why ICEL took advantage of that option. The Novus Ordo has been accused of being influenced by Gnosticism; [2] removing these affirmations of historical concreteness does not help the case of those wishing to refute this accusation.

From the 2015 Lectionary for Spain

Notes

[1] Pro singulis linguis popularibus, tales formulae mutari vel omitti possunt ex decreto Auctoritatum competentium. From the Instructio de editionibus apparandis et de usu novi ordinis lectionum missae, 20 (Prot. N. 838/69) in Notitiae 47 (July-August 1969), 254.

[2] See Peter Kwasniewski, “Gnosticism, Liturgical Change, and Catholic Life,” in Tradition and Sanity (Angelico Press, 2018).

Before the Gospel

Lost in Translation #106

Before the priest proclaims the Gospel reading of the day, he says several prayers. The first is:

Munda cor meum ac labia mea, omnípotens Deus, qui labia Isaíæ Prophétæ cálculo mundasti igníto: ita me tua grata miseratióne dignáre mundáre, ut sanctum Evangelium tuum digne váleam nuntiáre. Per Christum, Dóminum nostrum. Amen.

Which I translate as:

Cleanse my heart and my lips, O almighty God, Who didst cleanse the lips of the prophet Isaiah with a burning coal: Deign to cleanse me by Thy pleasing mercy in such a way that I may worthily be able to proclaim Thy holy Gospel. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

The prayer is an allusion to Isaiah 6, 6-7, when an angel takes a live coal from the altar and touches it to the lips of Isaiah in order to cleanse him from his sins. The prayer uses the same word for “live coal” as the Vulgate, calculus. It is an odd choice, for a calculus in Latin was never used for a coal, let alone a live one. (The prayer at least adds ignito to designate the coal as burning; the Vulgate simply has calculus with no adjective.) In Latin, a calculus is a small stone that had several different uses. Demosthenes put calculi in his mouth to learn to articulate better; calculi were used to cast votes (white for Aye and black for Nay); and the Thracians used white calculi to commemorate happy days and black calculi to mark misfortunes. And of course calculi were used on counting-boards, which is why we now have the word calculator. [1] During the four other times that the Vulgate uses calculus, it is with these more conventional meanings in mind. [2]

Finally, it is difficult to translate the word play between “deign” (dignare) and “worthily” (digne). If God deigns to purify the priest, the priest will be dignified.

Jube Domine Benedicere

When the priest is celebrating a Low Mass or Missa cantata, he prays: Jube, Dómine, benedícere or “Pray, Lord, give a blessing.” But at a Solemn High Mass, the deacon—who is about to chant the Gospel—says to the priest: Jube, Domne, benedicere or “Pray, sir, give a blessing.”

The priest blesses the deacon at a Solemn High Mass

There is literally one iota’s difference between the two prayers. When the prayer is addressed to Christ, Dominus is used; when it is addressed to the priest, Domnus is used. Dominus, which is derived from a root that indicates for conquering or subduing, often had negative, despotic connotations in Republican Rome, but it was one of the titles of the Emperor beginning with Augustus Caesar. For the Gospels to call Jesus Christ Dominus or Lord was thus seen as a rebellious act.

Domnus, on the other hand, was a Christian invention (it appears on ancient Roman inscriptions, but only as a syncopation of Dominus). It was precisely because Jesus is Lord that it felt strange calling anyone else by that title. Greek Christians thus abbreviated Kyrios to Kyros and Latin Christians abbreviated Dominus to Domnus, with the latter reserved to persons of authority. Thus, in the Litany of the Saints, the Pope is called the Apostolic Master, Domnus Apostolicus. The custom went on to give rise to other titles such as Dom or Don. [3]

The use of jube fits this noble or regal atmosphere nicely, for jubeo/jubere can to mean to order or command, to decree or enact, although here it is more supplicatory, meaning to bid or pray.

Dominus Sit in Corde Meo

Dóminus sit in corde meo et in labiis meis: ut digne et competenter annuntiem Evangelium suum. Amen.

Which I translate as:

May the Lord be in my heart and on my lips, that I may worthily and competently proclaim His holy Gospel. Amen.

At a Solemn Mass the wording is changed so that the priest may bless the deacon: “The Lord be in thy heart on thy lips...”

The blessing has the same main petition as the Munda cor meum (cleansing and worthiness), but it shifts the imagery of lips from cleansing to competence. The prayer asks for God on the heart so that the deacon or priest may be (morally) worthy of the honor of proclaiming the Gospel, and it asks for God on the lips so that the deacon or priest may be technically competent to do so, reading the right words, hitting the right notes, and so forth. Both dimensions are important in order to fulfill one’s ecclesiastical office, and indeed, something similar can be said for other walks of life as well. Moral rectitude and professional mastery are good things to have.

The priest then dialogues with the faithful.

℣. Dóminus vobiscum.

℟. Et cum spíritu tuo.

P. Sequentia (vel Initium) sancti Evangelii secundum N.

℟. Gloria tibi, Dómine.

Which is typically translated as:

℣. The Lord be with you.

℟. And with thy spirit.

P. The continuation (or beginning) of the holy Gospel according to N.

℟. Glory be to Thee, O Lord.

For the “Epistle” reading, whether it is from the Old Testament or the New, the lector calls the passage he is about to read as a Lectio (a reading), but the deacon or priest who proclaims the Gospel describes the passage he is about to read or chant by whether it is at the beginning of one of the four canonical Gospels or somewhere thereafter--the one exception being during Holy Week, when the word Passio is used instead of Sequentia for the Passion narratives of the four Evangelists.

The subdeacon reading the Epistle

The reason for the use of Lectio at the Epistle, Saint Isidore of Seville explains, is that the reading was originally recited while the Gospel was always chanted. [4] Even in the 1962 Missal the “chant” that accompanies the Epistle is halfway between speaking and singing, a kind of recto tono; and the priest at a Missa cantata has the option of reading rather than chanting the Epistle. The Gospel, on the other hand, has a more elaborate chant, a testimony to its greater importance.

Finally, the congregation responds with Gloria tibi, Domine. At other times, when the priest addresses the people, the people address the priest, as with Dominus vobiscum, Et cum spiritu tuo. Here, however, the faithful are so grateful for and gleeful about the annunciation of the Gospel that, forgetful of their manners, they glorify God rather than thank the priest or wish him well. As Sicard, Bishop of Cremona (1155–1215) writes:

God’s glory and ours are treated in the Gospel, namely, that He has conquered the devil and the Victor ascended unto the glory of God the Father; which redeems us and promises us greater things. Therefore, hearing the mention of the Gospel, we turn to the East and we exclaim in praise of the Creator: Glory be to Thee, O Lord! It is as if we were saying: “What is preached in the Gospel, let us also believe in and hope in. May it benefit us, may it come forth to us, may it remain with us forever! Furthermore, not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to Thy name belongs, and will belong, glory, and so the people glorify God who has sent us the word of salvation and wrought redemption for His people, according to what it says in the Acts of the Apostles, “And they have glorified God.” (11,18) [5]

Notes

[1] See “calcŭlus, i,” Lewis and Short Latin Dictionary (Clarendon Press, 1879), 268.

[2] See 2 Kings 17,13; Prov. 20,17; Ecclus. 18,18; Rev. 2,17.

[3] See Rev. Nicholas Gihr, The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass: Dogmatically, Liturgically and Ascetically Explained (Herder, 1902), 473, n. 1.

[4] Lectio dicitur quia non cantatur ut psalmus vel hymnus, sed legitur tantum. Illic enim modulatio, hic sola pronuntiatio quaeritur (Etymologies 1.6.19.9).

[5] Respondet populus: Gloria tibi, Domine. In Evangelio agitur de gloria Dei et nostra, scil. quod diabolum vicit et victor ad gloriam Dei Patris ascendit; quod nos redemit et nobis majora promisit. Audientes igitur Evangelii mentionem, nos ad Orientem vertimus et exclamamus in laudem Creatoris: Gloria tibi, Domine quasi dicamus: Quod in Evangelio praedicatur, et nos credimus et speramus, nobis proficiat, nobis eveniat, sine fine permaneat. Et exinde: Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo inest et inerit gloria, et ita populus glorificat Deum qui misit nobis verbum salutis et fecit redemptionem plebis suae, juxta quod in Act. Apost. (11, 18) dicitur: Et glorificaverunt Deum (Sicardus Cremonensis, Mitrale sive de officiis ecclesiasticis Summa, 1.3.4; quoted in Gihr, 475, n. 1).

The Second Sunday of Lent 2024

Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, for His mercy endureth forever. V. Who shall tell the mighty deeds of the Lord, or make known all His praises? V. Blessed are they who keep judgment and do justice at all times. V. Remember us, O Lord, in the favor of Thy people; visit us in Thy salvation. (The Tract of the Second Sunday of Lent, Ps. 105, 1-4)

Tractus Confitémini Dómino, quoniam bonus: quoniam in sǽculum misericordia ejus. V. Quis loquétur potentias Dómini: audítas faciet omnes laudes ejus? V. Beáti, qui custodiunt judicium et faciunt justitiam in omni témpore. V. Memento nostri, Dómine, in beneplácito pópuli tui: vísita nos in salutári tuo.

✠ At that time, after six days, Jesus taketh unto him Peter and James, and John his brother, and bringeth them up into a high mountain apart, and he was transfigured before them, and his face did shine as the sun, and his garments became white as snow. And behold there appeared to them Moses and Elias talking with him, and Peter answering, said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles, one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias.” And as he was yet speaking, behold a bright cloud overshadowed them. And lo, a voice out of the cloud, saying, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased: hear ye him.” And the disciples hearing, fell upon their face, and were very much afraid. And Jesus came and touched them, and said to them, “Arise, and fear not.” And they lifting up their eyes saw no one but only Jesus. And as they came down from the mountain, Jesus charged them, saying, “Tell the vision to no man, till the Son of man be risen from the dead.” (The Gospel, Matthew 17, 1-9.)

The Transfiguration, by Duccio di Buoninsegna, one of the panels of the dismembered altarpiece of Siena Cathedral known as the Maestà, 1311; this one is now located in the National Gallery in London. (Image from Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 3.0)

The Last Sunday after Pentecost 2023

At that time, Jesus said to his disciples: When you shall see the abomination of desolation, which was spoken of by Daniel the prophet, standing in the holy place, let him understand who readeth. Then they that are in Judea, let them flee to the mountains, and he that is on the housetop, let him not come down to take any thing out of his house, and he that is in the field, let him not go back to take his coat. And woe to them that are with child, and that give suck in those days. But pray that your flight be not in the winter, or on the sabbath. For there shall be then great tribulation, such as hath not been from the beginning of the world until now, neither shall be. And unless those days had been shortened, no flesh should be saved: but for the sake of the elect those days shall be shortened. Then if any man shall say to you: Lo here is Christ, or there, do not believe him. For there shall arise false Christs and false prophets, and shall shew great signs and wonders, insomuch as to deceive (if possible) even the elect. Behold I have told it to you, beforehand. If therefore they shall say to you: Behold he is in the desert, go ye not out: Behold he is in the secret chambers, believe it not. For as lightning cometh out of the east, and appeareth even into the west: so shall the coming of the Son of man be. Wheresoever the body shall be, there shall the eagles also be gathered together.

The central panel of the Last Judgment, ca. 1435, by the German painter Stephan Lochner (ca. 1410-51). Image from Wikimedia Commons by José Luiz Bernardes Ribeiro, CC BY-SA 4.0.

And immediately after the tribulation of those days, the sun shall be darkened and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of heaven shall be moved. And then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven: and then shall all tribes of the earth mourn: and they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with much power and majesty. And he shall send his angels with a trumpet, and a great voice, and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from the farthest parts of the heavens to the utmost bounds of them. And from the fig tree learn a parable: When the branch thereof is now tender, and the leaves come forth, you know that summer is nigh. So you also, when you shall see all these things, know ye that it is nigh, even at the doors. Amen I say to you, that this generation shall not pass, till all these things be done. Heaven and earth shall pass, but my words shall not pass. (Matthew 24, 15-35, the Gospel of the Last Sunday after Pentecost.)

The Gospels of the Epiphany (Part 3)

The introit of the Third Sunday after Epiphany begins with the same words as another antiphon from the Matins of that feast, “Adore God, all ye His Angels.” The reference to Epiphany is even more explicit in the Gradual, taken from the one-hundred-and-first psalm, “The nations will fear thy name, o Lord, and all the kings of the earth Thy glory.”

On the previous Sunday, the Church reads of the first miracle occurring in the Gospel of St John; on this Sunday are read the first two miracles in the Gospel of St Matthew (8, 1-13), namely, the healing of a leper, and of the servant of the centurion of Capharnaum. The Roman centurion, when asking for the cure of his gravely ill and beloved servant, declares himself the inferior of a provincial carpenter, unworthy to receive Him into his home. This Gospel is therefore not simply the story of a miracle, but also of the nations’ confession of the divinity of Christ; even the might of the Roman Empire humbles itself before Him, as the Magi did at His birth. The story of the centurion is one of the very few that is used more than once in the temporal cycle of readings, being also the Gospel of the Thursday after Ash Wednesday. In the liturgical rite which originated in Rome, and is now celebrated in every corner of the world, his confession of faith in Christ has been part of the rite of Holy Communion for many centuries.

Christ and the Centurion, by Paolo Veronese, ca. 1571

The remaining Sundays of the season after Epiphany have their own prayers and Scriptural readings, but their Gregorian antiphons are repeated from this third Sunday. On the fourth Sunday, the last which can occur before the Christmas season ends on the Purification, the Gospel recounts yet another manifestation of Christ, the calming of the waters of the Sea of Galilee. (Matt. 8, 23-27) Up to this point in St Matthew’s Gospel, the miracles he recounts have all been healings; this is the first miracle of dominion over inanimate creation. This Gospel was perhaps also chosen as a vague reminiscence of the Office of the Epiphany, in which the antiphon of the Benedicite reads, “Seas and rivers, bless the Lord, sing to the Lord a hymn, o fountains, alleluja.” The last two Sundays after Epiphany always fall after the Christmas season ends on February 2nd, and the Gospels chosen for them are no longer manifestations of Christ, but parables.

At most of the Masses associated with the Epiphany, (the vigil, the feast, the two Sundays after the feast), the text of the Communion antiphon is taken from the Gospel. On the third Sunday, however, it is taken from a Gospel text that is not read at all in the Missal of St Pius V. In the Tridentine missal, the ferial days of most seasons have no proper Scriptural readings, but simply repeat those of the previous Sunday, a custom well-established in Rome long before Trent. Many medieval missals, on the other hand, including those of Sarum, Liège and most of the churches of the German Empire, preserve an older custom of the Roman Rite, whereby proper readings were assigned to the Wednesdays and Fridays throughout the year. The story from St Luke’s Gospel of Christ in the synagogue at Capharnaum, (4, 14-22), is assigned by the very oldest surviving Roman lectionary, the seventh-century Wurzburg manuscript, to an unspecified day after the Sunday of the wedding at Cana. After Christ reads a passage from the book of Isaiah, He declares the words of the prophet to be fulfilled in by His coming to Israel; it is the Lord Himself who manifests to the world the true meaning of the words of sacred Scripture. This Gospel’s former presence in the corpus of Mass-lessons is the origin of the Communion antiphon which is sung until Septuagesima Sunday arrives; “All wondered at these things which proceeded from the mouth of God.”

The ancient lectionaries and medieval missals add a number of other Gospel episodes to the season, such as the arrival of Christ in Galilee (Matt. 4, 12-17), and several of the early healings performed by Him. The miraculous multiplication of the loaves and fishes, and the feeding of the five-thousand is also occasionally counted as part of the Epiphany story. The Ambrosian liturgy’s Epiphany hymn Illuminans altissime devotes three strophes to this event, more than it gives to the coming of the Magi, the Baptism of Christ or the Wedding at Cana; then, curiously no further reference to it is made until the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany, when it is read from the Gospel of St Luke (9, 10-17). The same hymn is sung in the Mozarabic Rite, whose preface of the feast also dwells at length upon the event, but the Gospel itself is never read in the Epiphany season. The Wurzburg lectionary assigns the story to be read twice in the seventh week after Epiphany, first from St Mark and then from St Matthew, but these readings are not in the eighth-century Murbach lectionary, or the medieval missals.

The Crucifixion, by Ottaviano Nelli (1421-24), from the chapel of the Palazzo Trinci in Foligno, Italy; Blessed James of Voragine, who was archbishop of Genoa, Italy from 1292 until his death in 1298 or 99, is the bishop on the left. (Photograph by Georges Jansoone from Wikimedia Commons; CC BY-SA 4.0)

Blessed James of Voragine, the author of the much maligned (and unjustly so) Golden Legend, says that the feast commemorates four miracles, and, citing the authority of the Venerable Bede and of the aforementioned hymn, notes that the feast was also called Phagiphania, from the Greek word for eating. He also notes, with some of the critical spirit he is habitually attacked for lacking, “but concerning this fourth miracle, it is doubted whether it happened on this day, both because this is not read in the original text of Bede, and because it is said in the sixth chapter of John, where this miracle is dealt with, ‘Easter was nigh.’ ” (Legenda aurea cap. 14)

Sicard of Cremona agrees in rejecting this tradition as “not authentic”, and it is very likely that the prominent position of the story on Laetare Sunday is the reason why it was early on removed from the Epiphany season. As the church of Milan sings in an antiphon of Epiphany Matins, “Thou alone hast wrought many wonders, o Lord God,” and some must be saved for the rest of the Church’s year.

The Gospels of the Epiphany (Part 2)

As with the other solemnities of the Lord, the Sunday within the octave of the Epiphany has its own proper Mass, which begins with the introit In excelso throno; the Gospel of this Mass is that of the finding of the twelve-year old Jesus among the doctors in the temple. (St Luke 2, 42-52) The only canonical episode of the hidden years of Christ’s life has been an object of devotion as a mystery of the Rosary for centuries, and was formerly celebrated with a particular feast by the Dominican Order; it is fittingly placed by the sacred liturgy between His birth and the beginning of His public ministry. When Pope Benedict XV decided to extend the feast of the Holy Family to the universal calendar in 1921, it was fixed to the Sunday within the octave of the Epiphany, since the Gospel, which sets the key note of the whole Mass and Office, is the same as that of In excelso throno.

On the octave itself, the Church celebrates the public manifestation of Christ to the people of Israel in His Baptism, at which God proclaims, “This is my beloved Son; hear ye Him.” Sicard of Cremona comments that the second miracle celebrated by the Epiphany, the Baptism of the Lord, “is put off until the octave day, because (baptism) takes the place of circumcision, which was celebrated on the eighth day.” The public revelation of Christ to the nations, however, is deferred to Pentecost, when the Apostles begin the mission of the Church, which will last until the end of the world.

In the Missal and Breviary of St. Pius V, and subsequent revisions, the octave day of the Epiphany is textually identical to the Epiphany itself, with the exception of the three prayers of the Mass, the Gospel, which is Saint John’s account of the Baptism (1, 29-34), and the readings of Matins. Prior to the Tridentine reform, however, the Office also had a large number of proper antiphons for the psalms of Matins, Lauds and Vespers, all of them centered on the Baptism. These were entirely suppressed from the Roman Breviary in the Tridentine revision, a most uncharacteristic act of a reform that was generally very conservative. The reason would appear to be that these antiphons are clearly Greek in origin; indeed, they were even recognized to be such by the liturgical commentators of the medieval period. These were retained by several breviaries of the religious orders after Trent; the antiphons for the Gospel canticles are:

At the Magnificat of First Vespers The soldier baptizeth the king, the servant his Lord, John the Savior: the water of the Jordan is struck dumb, the dove beareth witness: the Father’s voice is heard: this is my beloved Son.
At the Benedictus John the Forerunner exsulteth, when, the Lord having been baptized in the Jordan, the cause of rejoicing to the word is made: remission of our sins is made. ‘O thou that sanctifieth the waters’, let us all cry out, ‘have mercy upon us!’
At the Magnificat of Second Vespers The fountains of the waters sare sanctified, as Christ appeareth in glory to the world: draw ye waters from the fountains of the Savior; for now Christ our God hath sanctified every creature.

The Baptism of Christ, from the Menologion of Basil II, ca. 985

In several medieval uses of the Roman Rite, white was the liturgical color of the season between the octave of the Epiphany and the Purification, where the Missal of St. Pius V prescribes green; this custom survived in much of France until the later part of the nineteenth century. It reflects the fact that the Masses of the first three Sundays of this period continue the solemnity of the Lord’s manifestation, extending the season of Christmas to include the entire forty days from the Nativity to the Purification. A similar custom existed in many places for the season after Pentecost, whereby red vestments were used instead of green; this is still the tradition of the Ambrosian Rite for all but the last four weeks before Advent.

The Office of the Epiphany itself refers to the conversion of water into wine at the wedding at Cana as one of the three miracles commemorated by the feast. (St John 2, 1-11) The fourth stanza of the principal hymn of the feast, Crudelis Herodes, reads:

Novum genus potentiae

Aquae rubescunt hydriae,

Vinumque jussa fundere,

Mutavit unda originem.

This is translated (in a somewhat archaic style) by the English Breviary of the Marquess of Bute:

A strange miraculous power is shown,

The water pots are ruddy grown,

Whose waters by command divine

Their nature change, and yield pure wine.

Although this is sung every day through the octave, the reading of the Gospel itself is delayed until the second Sunday after the feast. The tradition of commemorating this episode alongside the visit of the Magi and the Baptism of Christ is a very ancient one; St Maximus of Turin refers to it as “the tradition of our fathers” in the mid-fifth century, and the three events are mentioned together in the liturgical texts of many different rites. Of the various actions by which Christ manifests Himself as Our salvation, this one was undoubtedly chosen for such a prominent place because St John calls it the first of Christ’s miracles, whereby “he made manifest (ephanerose) His glory.”

The Wedding at Cana, painting in the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua, Italy, by Giotto, 1305.

The introit of this Mass is almost identical to the fifth antiphon of Epiphany Matins, taken from the sixty-fifth psalm: “Let all the earth adore Thee, o God, and sing to Thee; let it sing to Thy name, o Most High.” These words are sung on the feast because the three Magi were understood to represent all the ends of the known world, one from Asia, one from Africa and one from Europe. Although this tradition concerning their number and origin was almost universally accepted in the Middle Ages, and the connection with the Epiphany is fairly obvious, the liturgical writers of the era also knew of a curious story concerning the origin of this introit. It is recounted thus by Sicard of Cremona:

It is said that Augustus Caesar decreed for the glory of the Roman Empire, that from each city of the world someone should come to Rome, bearing as much earth as can be held in one hand, so that by this it might be clear that all were subject to the Roman Empire… and from this earth (terra) there arose a small mountain, upon which a church was later built, and dedicated on this Sunday. Therefore, on its dedication is sung “Let all the earth adore Thee.” (Mitrale V, 11)

The modern reader should be aware that medieval authors often use a phrase like “It is said…” to indicate a story which may not be altogether reliable. However, there is in fact an artificial mountain in Rome, the Mons Testaceus (“Monte Testaccio” in Italian), a heap of discarded potsherds near the location of some warehouses of the ancient city; it is well over a hundred feet high, probably even higher in antiquity, and more than half a mile around at the base. It is easily seen to be a man-made structure, and the medieval mind perhaps found it difficult to imagine that such an achievement of engineering could be anything so prosaic as a garbage dump; hence the story.

A view of the Mons Testaceus in the 19th century.

The Gospels of the Epiphany (Part 1)

The feast of the Epiphany is one of the richest of the Church’s liturgical year, commemorating several different events in the life of Our Lord. The Roman and other western rites have traditionally laid the strongest emphasis on the visit of the three Magi to the infant Jesus, which is recounted in the Gospel of the feast; the paintings and sarcophagi from the catacombs of Rome attest to the great antiquity of this tradition. In the Byzantine Rite, on the other hand, the visit to the Magi is read on Christmas Day, and the Epiphany is principally focused on the Baptism of the Lord, as may be seen in the icon of the feast. The Roman Rite traditionally assigns the celebration of this latter event to the octave day of the Epiphany, which was officially renamed “the Baptism of the Lord” in the 1961 rubrical reform; this change was carried over into the post-Conciliar liturgy. The Epiphany is also traditionally the day on which the date of Easter is announced to the faithful, and the feast and its vigil are the occasion of several blessings in the Rituale.

The Adoration of the Magi, depicted on a Christian sarcophagus of the 4th century, now in the Pio-Christian collection of the Vatican Museums.

At the first Mass of Christmas, the Church reads the revelation of the Incarnation to the people of the ancient covenant, represented by the shepherds; at the dawn Mass, these men of humble estate come to Bethlehem, and behold the Creator of the Universe as an infant sleeping in a manger. This private manifestation of God to the people of Israel on Christmas is complemented by a similarly private manifestation on Epiphany to the nations of the world, in the persons of the Magi. As St Fulgentius says in a sermon read during the octave of the Epiphany, “The shepherds were the first-fruits of the Jews; the Magi have become the first-fruits of the gentiles.” St Matthew does not say that the Wise Men found the Holy Family still at the stable in Bethlehem, where they had been found earlier by the shepherds, but the Church’s artistic tradition has depicted it thus, precisely to emphasize the connection between these two “epiphanies”.

The last antiphon of Christmas Matins is “God hath made known, alleluja, his salvation, alleluja,” words which are repeated at both Lauds and Vespers; the psalm from which they are taken, Psalm 97, has been associated with the Nativity of the Lord from very ancient times. A subsequent verse of the same psalm is sung as the communion antiphon of the third and most solemn of the three Christmas Masses, and is repeated several times during the octave: “All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God.” These words are fulfilled in the Epiphany, when the representatives of the ends of the earth, the Magi, come to worship the Christ Child, God Incarnate for our salvation. Therefore, although the Gospel does not say how many they were, Christian art from the earliest times (and especially in Rome) has usually shown them as three, representing the three parts of the world known to ancient peoples, Asia, Africa and Europe, descendents of the three sons of Noah.

The Adoration of the Magi, by Flemish painter Gerard David, ca. 1490.

From the earliest times, the Roman Gospel of the third Mass of Christmas has been the Prologue of St John (1, 1-14); this is attested already in the middle of the seventh century in the very oldest lectionary of the Roman Rite, the Comes Romanus of Wurzburg. In the high Middle Ages, the custom emerged of reading this same text at the end of the Mass, as part of the celebrant’s thanksgiving. At the third Mass of Christmas, therefore, the Gospel of the Epiphany was read in its place, uniting the revelation of the Incarnate Word to Israel with His revelation to the nations. It is worth noting that the Gospels of both Christmas and Epiphany end with a genuflection, by which we imitate the Magi in kneeling before the Divine Infant, just as we honor the Incarnation every Sunday by genuflecting during the Creed at the words “Et incarnatus est.” (The 1961 rubrical reform of Pope St John XXIII prescribes that there be no last Gospel at this Mass.)

In the Middle Ages, another pair of Gospels was added to the liturgy to associate the feasts of Christmas and Epiphany. At Matins of Christmas, the Genealogy of Christ according to St Matthew (1, 1-16) was sung before the Te Deum and the Midnight Mass, at Epiphany Matins, the Genealogy according to St Luke (3, 21 – 4, 1). Both of these were normally sung with the same ceremonies that accompany the singing of the Gospel at Solemn Mass. Since these texts are fairly repetitive, musicians composed special and elaborate music for them; they were often set for two deacons or groups of deacons, who would alternate the verses.

St Matthew’ genealogy was clearly chosen for Christmas because it ends with St Joseph, “the husband of Mary, from whom was born Jesus, that is called Christ.” In German-speaking lands, it was usually follow by the antiphon “O mundi Domina”, a final O antiphon on the cusp between Advent and Christmas. That of St Luke was then assigned to Epiphany because it is preceded by an account of the Baptism of Christ (vs. 21-23), one of the principal events commemorated by the feast. This Gospel ends with Christ departing into the desert “lead by the Spirit”, a distant prelude to the coming Lenten fast. Commenting on the reason why these two Gospels are read on their respective feasts, Sicard of Cremona writes in about 1200, “Matthew reckons (the genealogy) by descending (from Abraham to Joseph), because he is describing the humanity of Christ, by which He descends to us. Luke recounts (the genealogy) ascending, since from the baptized One he ascends to God, showing the effects of baptism; because the baptized become sons of God.” (Mitrale, V, 6)

Folio 19r of the Schuttern Gospels, an early 9th century illuminated manuscript produced at the Abbey of Schuttern in Baden-Württemberg, Germany.

These texts occur in virtually every use of the Roman Rite except that of the Roman Curia itself, the ancestor of the Breviary of St. Pius V; they were retained after the Tridentine reform in the proper breviaries of certain religious orders, including the Premonstratensians, Dominicans, and Carmelites of the Ancient Observance.

Here is a marvelous recording of the Genealogy of Christ according to St Luke from Epiphany Matins.

An equally nice version of the Genealogy according to St Matthew from Christmas Matins, sung by the Schola Hungarica; brevitatis causa, the names between “the wife of Uriah” and Jacob, the father of St Joseph, are omitted in this recording. (There is small mistake at the very beginning; the word “autem” is incorrectly added after the name of Abraham.)

Also from the Schola Hungarica, the antiphon “O mundi Domina”; the music is very similar to that of the standard seven O antiphons of Advent.

Aña O mundi Domina, regio ex semine orta, ex tuo jam processit Christus alvo, tamquam sponsus de thalamo; hic jacet in praesepio, qui et sidera regit. ~ O Lady of the world, born of royal descent, Christ hath now come forth from Thy womb, as a bridegroom from his chamber; he lieth in a manger, that also ruleth the stars.