ANAPHORA

(Lifting of the Symbol of Christ)

The earliest record of Anaphora is the third century document called the Postsanctus of Addai and Mari, “one of the most ancient anaphoras extant, a prayer believed to have been in continuous use in the age-old East-Syrian Christendom of Mesopotamia from time immemorial” (Taft, 2018: 57). Jesus’ institution of the Last Supper, as narrated in the Gospels (as also recited during Anaphora in Chrysostom Liturgy and as it is commonly called the institution narrative) is missing in this document, although the elements of the institution narrative are referred and scattered throughout the prayer. It reads:

Do you, O my Lord, in your manifold mercies make a good remembrance for all the upright and just fathers, the prophets and apostles and martyrs and confessors, in the commemoration of the Body and Blood of your Christ, which we offer to you on the pure and holy altar, as you have taught us in his life-giving Gospel…

And we also, O my Lord, your servants who are gathered and stand before you, and have received by tradition the example which is from you, rejoicing and glorifying and exalting and commemorating this mystery of the passion and death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ.

And let your Holy Spirit come, O my Lord, and rest upon this offering of your servants, that it may be to us for the pardon of sins and for the forgiveness of shortcomings, and for the resurrection from the dead, and for new life in the kingdom of heaven.

And for your dispensation which is towards us we give you thanks and glorify you in your Church redeemed by the precious Blood of your Christ with open mouths and unveiled faces offering glory and honor and thanksgiving and adoration to your holy name, now and at all times, and for ever and ever. Amen!

Taft, 2018: 86-87. By citing Postsanctus of Addai and Mari, Taft offers a mild criticism of his teacher Juan Mateos, who in 1971 cited the Anaphor of Hippolytus (from the Apostolic Tradition) as the most pristine version of the Anaphora as originating from the third century. Since late 1980’s, however, the Apostolic Tradition is found to be “a composite collection assembled and redacted several times,” including materials from the 4th century and later times and from more than one church tradition (see Taft’s footnote 48 in Mateos, 2016:64). Hippolytus of Rome lived between c. 170-235 (ibid.).

As we can see, there is no expressed formula: “Take, eat; this is my Body which is broken for you…” The tradition has it that this institution narrative was brought to Hagia Sophia by St John Chrysostom from Antioch, Syria, when he was a priest. He became Archibishop of Constantinople in 398. He died in 407.

St Chrysostom and St Ambrose (d. 397) both held that it is Christ’s Word at the first institution (not at the priest’s repeating Christ’s words of the institution in the Liturgy) that transforms or consecrates the bread and wine into Christ’s Body and Blood (Taft, 2018: 80-81). Chrysostom also believed that the Holy Spirit at the epiclesis (the invocation of the Holy Spirit to come down and to change the elements into Christ’s Body and Blood) was also at work in transforming or consecrating them (Taft, 2018: 81).

It is Ambrose who first located the moment of “transubstantiation.”  Even though it was Aquinas who (in the 13th century) used the term,[1] Ambrose in the 4th century suggested that the real transformation of the bread and wine occurs in the moment the words of the Institution are uttered: “This is my body… this is my blood.”  Ambrose wrote: “… the sacrament which thou receivest, is consecrated by the word of Christ.”[2] 

[1] Summa, vol. 3, Q75, Art. 4.  The term ‘transubstantiation’ was first articulated in the Fourth Lateran Council (1215) and was reaffirmed at the Council of Trent (1563) against the Reformers’ denial of the real presence of Christ in the elements.  It was once again upheld by Pope Paul VI in Mysterium fidei (1965).  See McGuckian, 2007: 142-43.  

[2] Ambrose, ‘Concerning the Mysteries,’ in On the Mysteries and the Treatise on the Sacraments (387 AD), trans. Rev. T. Thompson, (Aurelius Ambrosius Classic, 1919), 9.52.    

The moment of transubstantiation or transformation is the moment of ‘consecration’ (‘setting aside’). Something or someone becomes ‘sacred’ or ‘holy’ (קֹ֖דֶשׁ, qōdesh) when it or the person is separated, set aside from the ordinary (to be offered to God). See for example Ex 29.33.

St John Damascene makes it clear in his On the Orthodox Faith (PG 94: 1145): “The bread of the prothesis and the wine and water, are supernaturally changed into the Body and Blood of Christ, through the Epiclesis and the coming down of the Holy Spirit” (as quoted in Mateos, 2016: 69).

In Chrysostom’s Anaphora that we have today, the following formula is missing: “Do this in commemoration of me.” However, we find the formula in all other Anaphoras, including the Liturgy of St. Basil. See Mateos, 2016: 65.

The formula, “This is My Body,” however, belongs to the formula for distributing the communion, as in “The Body of Christ” that the priest says as he gives the Bread to the faithful. The former (“This is My Body”) does not indicate the moment of consecration, according to Mateos and contrary to Aquinas. In support, Mateos points to Mark 14.22-24 where the formula is used for distribution: “He took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank it. And he said to them, ‘This is My Blood of the covenant which is poured out for many.’” The same sequence of event is described with respect to the Bread (14.22). Based on this, Mateos adds: “it is certainly impossible that Christ used these last words to consecrate, after the Apostles had already drunk of the chalice” (2016: 67).

In any event, the dispute over the exact moment when the bread and wine are consecrated, it seems to me and with Mateos, belongs to physics or metaphysics rather than to a genuine theological question (Mateos, 2016: 70). What matters more, it seems to me, is whether or not we, the participants, shall undergo transformation by the Holy Spirit, as we receive the Body and Blood of Christ.

Like the trisagion (“Holy, holy, holy…”), the commemoration of the living and the dead is an appendix added to the Anaphora at a later time, although “[t]her commemoration of the saints is very ancient” (Mateos, 2016: 71). The insertion of the trisagion breaks the unity of the Anaphora. Mateos sums up the anaphora, as we find it, as follows:

Thus, the anaphora, which is really one single prayer, has two parts: 1) the part of praise and thanksgiving for the marvels of God on our behalf, divided [later] into two sections by the Sanctus, and 2) the Anamnesis [‘Do this in memory of me’]-Epiclesis element which must be considered together. The commemorations of the dead and the living, which now follow the Epiclesis, were added later.

Mateos, 2016:64.

In contrast, Patrick O’Grady divides anaphora into three sections and then to be followed by epiclesis:

The anaphora falls into three distinct sections, each of which is marked by a special hymn sung by the people [the thrice-holy hymn: ‘Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of sabaoth’ (Is 6.3)]…

The middle of the anaphora,. the second section, stresses the manifestation of the love of God by the offering of His Only-begotten Son. ‘For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life’ (John 3.16, [as silently said by the priest])… The culmination of this section is …uttered by the celebrating priest as though Christ were physically present: ‘Take, eat, this is My Body… Drink of this, all of you. This is My Blood.’

After these holy words,… the priest (or deacon) elevates both the diskos and the chalice, holding them in a crosswise fashion. With this action, the anaphora reaches the highest point of human ability in reaching toward God. This is our offering—the simple basic of life [i.e., the bread and wine], through which the Life of the world will come to us….

With the elevation, the priest intones solemnly, ‘Thine own, of Thine own, we offer unto Thee, in behalf of all and for all.’ Together, clergy and laity voluntarily offer back to God, who gavi it, the whole of creation (‘Thine own’)….This is the ministry of Jesus Christ in miniature; this is the ministry of the Church in depth—to bring all back to God, voluntarily, in the freedom of love.

[…]

At once, God answers the elevation by His action. The priest invokes the Holy Spirit (epiklesis, ‘invocation’) ‘upon us and upon these gifts’ [to change the elements into the Body and Blood of Christ].

[…]

To summarize, the sacred exchange takes place: the worshipping community… offers its all, embodied in the bread and wine, ‘Thine own of Thine own.’ In response, God receives this offering and ‘places His own Life in the Gifts, ‘the Holy for the holy’…

O’Grady, 2016, 59.

According to O’Grady, then, there is an exchange of gifts between God and human: our bread and wine for His Son’s Body and Blood. God gives His Only-begotten Son in exchange for our humble offering of bread and wine (albeit they represent the whole of His creation). The logic of exchange is at play here.

But what is offered to God? What is sacrificed? The whole creation? If so, how is it that we are entitle to represent the whole creation that God created and to offer it back to Him? On what basis can we play the role of the priest? What entitles us to function as a priest? Instead, is it not the case that Christ Himself offers and is offered as the sacrifice (“For it is You that offer and are offered…”; Heb 9.14)? Moreover, is God’s giving of His Only-begotten Son condition upon our offering of the creation (that includes us) back to Him? The exchange logic that is invoked here would seem to require such a condition. But is God’s love conditional? Does John 3.16 say that God would give the Son if and when we give ourselves and our world back to God? When the Word became flesh, we were in darkness. We knew nothing and did not prepare to receive Him. We were not in a state that can offer anything back to Him. He came; He gave, nonetheless.

“He first love us,” says 1 John 4.19. Christ first emptied Himself and took “the form of a slave… and became obedient to the point of death” (Phil 2.7-8). The logic of kenosis (κενός, ‘empty’) works differently. First of all, gift is not exchanged. If it is, it is not genuine. The true gift is given without expectation of return. It is pure act of expenditure without recuperation, an investiture without return, “a putting out of funds at a loss” that the original meaning of the Greek word ‘liturgy’ (λειτουργία, λειτουργέω) refers to (Levinas, 1996: 50).

God first gives at an exorbitant cost (i.e., His Only-begotten Son). Our response can only be a humble meal of bread and wine. He offers first; He sacrifices first at a total loss (holocaust). In response, we must do the same in His image and likeness. He first loved us; therefore, we must love one another likewise. We have no choice.

The Cross, then, invokes our response as love for our neighbor. Piety and gratitude come later and afterwards. Responsibility precedes consciousness. That is, the call of the Cross is ethics first and foremost, i.e., my taking responsibility for the whole world, the responsibility of ‘me,’ the messiah (Levinas, 1990: 89). Thus, I become Christ—without confusion or change in nature. This is what we pray for (to become Christ, theōsis) when we invoke the Holy Spirit to descend to change “us and these elements.” If the humble bread and wine can become Christ’s Body and Blood, we can certain become Christ, too, by the work of the Holy Spirit. This is what is at stake in the Divine Liturgy first and foremost, while becoming pious or enjoying the meal in the presence of the divine (as the Greeks did in ancient times) recedes into the background and as secondary.

The Old Entrance to the Sanctuary

Mateos traces back to the earlier form of the act of transference of the gifts to the sanctuary (which later became the Great Entrance) as follows:

The Liturgy of the Word, up until the end of the ‘Prayer of the Faithful’ that is, the synaptē or litany of peace, was celebrated in the nave of the church; the clergy were in the center facing the sanctuary. Once the litany was finished, the choir started the hymn of the transfer of the gifts, now the Cherubic Hymn. The bishop and priests went from the center of the church to the sanctuary, reciting the prayer of the entrance, which is also called the Prayer of the Proskomide or the Prayer of the Offering: “O Lord God almighty, who alone are holy…” [See below]. As the priests, or the bishop and the priests were making their entrance into the sanctuary, the deacons brought the gifts from the diakonikon or side sacristy, where they had been prepared. The bishop placed the gifts on the altar and recited the prayer: ‘O God, our God, who have sent forth the heavenly Bread…,’ which was introduced by the deacon who said: ‘For the precious gifts here present, let us pray to the Lord.’ Then the anaphora began.

Mateos, 2016: 59.

This simple act of transference of the gifts had developed into a full-blown royal procession we now call ‘The Great Entrance.’

In the present form of the Divine Liturgy, the Prayer of the Offering is followed by Peace Greeting, which is then followed by the Creed.

According to Mateos, the Creed or Symbol of Faith is “a formula to be recited by the catechumens who were to receive baptism” (Mateos, 2016: 59). It was introduced to the Liturgy by Patriarch Timothy (512-518); and the allusion to the Creed in the diaconal exhortation to the kiss of peace (“Let us love one another, that with one mind we may confess…”) was added later in the 11th or 12th century (59).

The rubric of waving the veil “does not appear in some places until the nineteenth century” (Mateos, 2016: 61). Mateos says further, “[I]mmediately before beginning the anaphora, while the deacon says the admonition, ‘Let us stand aright…,’ the priest lifts the veil from the Gifts. The Ukrainians keep this old custom and lift the veil after the Creed” (61).

The Prayer of the Offering

Before the 8th century, “the preparation of the gifts was made immediately before the eucharistic liturgy began”—That is, immediately after the Liturgy of the Word, which took place in the nave, outside the sanctuary (Mateos, 2016: 58). “All the actual prayers and commemorations did not exist” before the 10th century, except for The Prayer of the Offering (58), which runs:

O Lord God almighty, who alone are holy and receive the sacrifice of praise from those who call upon you with their whole heart, accept the prayer also of us sinners; bring us to your holy altar, enable us to offer you gifts and spiritual sacrifices for our sins and for the people’s transgressions, and deem us worthy to find favor in your sight, that our sacrifice may be pleasing to you, and that the good Spirit of your grace may rest upon us, upon these gifts here present, and upon all your people.

Mateos, 2016: 56-57; “us” in italics above is Mateos’ insert, as it is missing in the Greek text.

This is “not an offertory prayer [a prayer for the gifts], but a prayer for the entrance of the celebrants as they go in procession from the bema or ambo in the middle of the church [of Hagia Sophia] to the sanctuary” (Mateos, 2016: 57). The prayer thus belongs to the Anaphora and functions as “the opening prayer of the eucharistic liturgy” (Mateos, 2016: 57), because initially it is said as “the clergy approach the altar and the gifts are put on it“ (57).

In fact, this is the first time when the clergy approach the altar, as the Liturgy of the Word takes place outside the sanctuary in the nave/bema/ambo in Hagia Sophia.

It is interesting to note that in the Prayer of the Offering, the prayer prays to be accepted as prayer—i.e., a prayer that prays about itself—and that the clergy pray that they may be brought to the holy altar—i.e., that they themselves may become acceptable offerings to be sacrificed on the altar, with and like Christ, who brings himself to sacrifice and to be the sacrifice Himself (Heb 4.14, 7.24-25).

We Receive the Risen Lord

At the Communion, we receive Christ from the plate and in the cup. But it is the risen Lord whom we receive, not His immolated Body. As Mateos emphasizes:

To signify that we receive the risen Christ, the Church instated a special ceremony before Holy Communion in all the liturgies: the commingling of the species of the bread, the Body of Christ, with the species of the wine, the Blood of Christ, symbol of life.

[…]

To stress the presence of the risen Christ in the eucharist, the Byzantine liturgy added a new ceremony to the ordinary mingling water with the wine in the preparatory rites before the anaphora. This is the addition of hot water to the consecrated wine just before communion. The priest blesses the boiling water by saying: ‘Blessed is the warmth of your holy (Gifts).’ The warmth can be either the symbol of life or that of the Holy Spirit, meant in St. John’s Gospel by the living water; possibly both significations are intended: life given by the Holy Spirit.

Mateos, 2016: 75.

That we receive the risen Christ in partaking of the Eucharist provides another support for our understanding the Great Entrance as the procession of the risen King of glory; and that the (self) sacrifice Christ offers on the altar symbolizes the heavenly sacrifice He offers perpetually as the High Priest in the order of Melchizedek in his risen Body at the right hand of God.

By partaking the Bread and Wine, we enter into a communion with the Father made possible through the Son’s living sacrifice/offering/intercession, and in and through (the working of) the Holy Spirit. By the Communion, then, we participate in and commune with Christ’s (self) sacrifice, thus fulfilling St Paul’s exhortation “to offer [παραστῆσαι] your bodies as a living sacrifice…” (Rom 12.1).

God is pleased with the living sacrifices, in our act of bringing gifts (including ourselves as gifts), and with our drawing near Him.

Thus, reciting the Lord’s Prayer, “Our Father…” is an absolutely necessary preparation for our participation in the Communion and to ask to ‘give us this day our future bread’ [as in Aramaic] “cannot have any other meaning than the eucharist itself, which conceals the Life of the future Kingdom,” and which we are about to receive in the Liturgy (Mateos, 2016:78). The Lord’s Prayer, then, belongs to the internal part of the Divine Liturgy; and it should always be followed by the Communion.