Dross Among the Gold
The romantic vision of eastern liturgy is based on several presuppositions, the essentials of which are an idealization of “the Golden Age of the Fathers” and the spirit of its liturgy, the suspicion that the west has lost this spirit, and the supposition that the east has (23) preserved it intact. But in fact, the “Golden Age of patristic liturgy” is itself a creation of the same romanticism. When one reads what the fathers have to say about liturgy, one sees that even in those presumably halcyon days that gold was mixed with dross. A few anecdotes from my “Golden Age” file should suffice to dispel this myth.
John Chrysostom in Antioch (before 398), (24) Ambrose in Milan (339-397), (25) Augustine (d. 430) in North Africa, (26) and Caesarius of Arles (503-542) (27) all bemoan the alcoholic vigils of their clergy and flocks. Augustine even had to admonish the newly baptized youngsters not to show up drunk at vespers on Easter evening! (28)
Chrysostom in Constantinople (398-404) accuses his congregation of roaming around during church services; of either ignoring the preacher (30) or pushing and shoving to get nearer to hear him, (31) when not bored or downright exasperated with him;(32) of talking, especially during the scripture lessons ; (33) of leaving before the services are over; (34) and, in general, of causing an uproar and acting as if they were in the forum or barbershop-or worse still, in a tavern or whorehouse (35)-his words, not mine.
The women cause distractions by the way they deck themselves out in finery, makeup, and jewelry.
(36) The youth, whom Chrysostom calls “filth rather than youth,” spend their time in church laughing, joking, talking, he says. (37) The large crowd at the Easter Vigil is more a mob than a congregation, he tells us. They come to church like they go to the baths or the forum, without devotion or spiritual profit. “It would be better to stay at home,” the exasperated Chrysostom concludes. (38)
The way the sexes behave in church just exacerbated the general scandal of church-going in Constantinople, according to Chrysostom. The presider greets those in church with “peace,” but the reality he has to face is more, he says, like “all-out warfare” everywhere. “Great is the tumult, great the confusion here in church. Our assemblies differ in nothing from a tavern, so loud is the laughter, so great the disturbance, just as in the baths, in the markets, with everyone shouting and causing an uproar… [In church] we behave more impudently than dogs, and pay as much respect to God as to a whore…. The church … is no different from the forum… nor probably even from the stage, from the way the women who assemble here adorn themselves more wantonly than the unchaste ones there. Hence we see that many profligates are enticed here by them, and if anyone is trying or intending to corrupt a woman, I suppose no place seems better than the church. (39)
“For indeed,” he continues, “if one could see what is said by men and women at each synaxis, you would see that their talk is filthier than excrement.” (40) Chrysostom says things were so bad they needed a wall in church to keep the men and women apart! 941) Similarly, Augustine in North Africa complains that in church the men move in and out, chattering and making dates with their lady friends, (42) as indeed Augustine himself did before his conversion, according to his own Confessions. (43)
So there was no “Golden Age of patristic liturgy” except in our daydreams. Even if there had been, present-day eastern usage certainly has not preserved it–indeed, it has preserved some of the very abuses the fathers of that supposed “Golden Age” railed against with force, such as the decline in frequent communion. Far from being a bastion of immovable tradition, preserving
Intact the liturgy of apostolic times, the east was the main source of change, responsible for practically every single liturgical innovation from Jesus until the Islamic conquests, which stifled this remarkable creativity.
But of course all that is beside the point; for we are dealing here not with past facts but with present perceptions. These perceptions tell us not about the past, nor about the east, but about ourselves. So the only relevant question is: Why has the western liturgical movement, itself a product of nineteenth century romanticism, like the Benedictine revival, the Oxford Movement, and so many other aspects of western religious culture of the day–hy has it had an ongoing romance with the Christian east? In other words, what do the liturgies of the east tell us about ourselves?






Add Comment أضف تعليق