Christ the Awaited Man Carries Us to the Baptismal Pool, Troubled by the Spirit

Christ is risen!

Today is the Sunday of the Paralytic, when we read the story of the pool of Bethesda, or the "Probatic Pool" (as the Douay-Rheims has it, the pool "by the Sheepgate").  It is an example of Jesus' healing miracles; it is an example of His breaking the Sabbath; it is an example of His mercy for the over-looked.  (It would be easy to read this pericope as a rebuke of "survival of the fittest": the pool only healed the one who got there first, who either was less ill or could hire faster bearers.)  Striking, though, is that odd description of the working of the pool: "For an angel of the Lord, according to season, descended into the pool and troubled the water; then the first one entering after the troubling of the water became healthy from whatever illness he had" (Jn 5:4).  Many early Greek manuscripts omit this verse, and modern translations do as well (as some also do with the stoning of the woman caught in adultery in Jn 8), but it has a long history and tradition of being included in the Scriptures.

In itself, it seems like a bit of folklore, expanding upon the paralytic's later statement about needing to enter the water once it is stirred (Jn 5:7).  Yet the fact that this folklore was incorporated into Scripture—whether by the evangelist himself or by an early editor or compiler—gives it inspired meaning, and the Fathers have sought that meaning, and they have often found it in Baptism.

It is common to refer to the Baptismal font by the name "pool," specifically, the Greek κολυμβήθρα (kolymbēthra), the same name used in this Scripture passage.  Thus, speaking of how Christ's Baptism reflected our own, St. Proklos of Constantinople says that "In the river, He sketched the pool's mystery" (Oration 2.2).  Yet some go further than this simple word, and they connect this whole pericope to Baptism.

So St. Ambrose does, in his twin works On the Sacraments and On the Mysteries.  (For a brief introduction to these works, see my recent post "St. Ambrose's Foot-Washing Rebellion.")  He finds many figures of Baptism in Scripture, the four main ones being these: in the story of Naaman being cleansed in the Jordan (2 Kgs 5), "you have one Baptism, another in the flood, you have a third kind, when the fathers were baptized in the Red Sea, you have a fourth kind in the pool, when the water was troubled" (On the Sacraments II.III.9).  (The Byzantine readings for the Vigil of Theophany include the first and third of these figures.)

All four of these, of course, involve some kind of passage through water: Naaman and the pool of Bethesda include actual immersion in the water, while the Flood and the Red Sea involve being protected from the water.  Yet the Flood has Apostolic warrant for being a prefigurement of Baptism: "in [the ark], few, that is, eight souls, were saved through water.  And the antitype, Baptism, now saves you..." (1 Pet 3:20-21).  For, though the saved were not themselves immersed in the water, yet they were saved through the water, because the water destroyed the wicked—be it all the wicked of the world (in the Flood), be it just Pharaoh and his chariots and his charioteers (in the Exodus)-—and freed the saved from their grasp.

(Other figures Ambrose finds include Elisha's submerged axe, where tossing the wooden handle into the water caused the iron to float back up (2 Kgs 6), as well as the wood tossed in the bitter water of Marah to make it sweet (Ex 15:23ff).  Both of these are also found in the Byzantine readings for the Vigil of Theophany.  On these figures, see Ambrose, On the Sacraments II.IV; on Marah, see also On the Mysteries III.14.  Interestingly, Ambrose also uses these same figures—among others—to argue for the truth of transubstantiation: see On the Mysteries IX and On the Sacraments IV.IV.)

But to return to the pool of Bethesda: although—as I mentioned in my previous post—St. Ambrose's On the Mysteries is often seen as a cliff-notes version of the longer and more developed On the Sacraments, there are sometimes differences in emphasis and interpretation between the two, and that applies in this passage.  Both apply the episode of the troubled water to the Baptismal pool, but in quite different ways.

First, the applicable passage from On the Sacraments (II.II):

"3. What was read yesterday?  'An angel,' it says, 'according to time, descended into the pool, and, whenever the angel descended, the water was troubled; and he who first descended was cured from every languor by which he was held' (Jn 5:4).  Which signifies a figure of the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

4. Why an angel?  For He is the Angel of great counsel (cf. Is 9:6).  'According to time,' since He was reserved until the last hour; so that, in that setting, He would seize the day, and defer the setting.  Therefore, 'whenever the angel descended, the water was troubled.'  Perhaps you say: 'Why is it not moved now?'  Do you hear why?  A sign to the incredulous, faith to the believing (cf. 1 Cor 14:22).

5. 'He who first descended, was cured from every infirmity.'  He who is first in time, or honor?  Understand both.  If in time, he who first descended was healed before, that is, the people of the Jews before the people of the nations.  If in honor, he who first descended, that is, who had the fear of God, the study of justice, the grace of charity, chastity’s affection; he is better healed.  Yet, at that time, one was healed—at that time, I say, in figure, he who first descended, he alone was cured.  How much greater is the grace of the Church, in which all who descend are saved?

6. But see the Mystery.  Our Lord Jesus Christ came to the pool, many sick lay there.  And easily did many sick lay there, where only one was cured.  Then He said to that paralytic: Descend.  He said: I have no man (Jn 5:7).  See where you are baptized.  Whence is Baptism, except from the Cross of Christ, from the death of Christ?  There is all Mystery, since He suffered for you.  In this you are redeemed, in this you are saved.

7. I, he says, have no man; that is, since through man is death, and through man the resurrection of the dead (1 Cor 19:21).  He could not descend, he could not be saved, who did not believe that our Lord Jesus took flesh from the Virgin.  But here, he who awaited the mediator of God and men, the man Jesus Christ, expecting Him of whom it is said, And the Lord will send a man who will make you saved (Is 19:4), he said: I have no man; and, therefore, he merited to attain healing, since he believed in the One Who was to come.  Yet better and more perfect would it be, if he now believed that He Whom he hoped was to come had come."

Though there is a slight connection here between the pool of Bethseda and the Baptismal pool, the main focus is, instead, on salvation as a whole, salvation which came through Christ.  The sick who lay around the pool were waiting for an angel: though many did not know it, the one they were really waiting for was the Angel of Great Counsel, Jesus Christ.  This angel would bring salvation to all, not just to one; He would bring salvation to both Jews and Gentiles, not Jews alone.  But the sick need not just the water-troubling angel: they also needed a man to carry them down to the pool, and the real man they waited for was the "man who will make you saved," Jesus the God-Man.  (On the idea of Jesus carrying us to salvation, consider the Good Samaritan, as commonly interpreted by the Greek Fathers; the modern Christian might instead suffer the intrusive thought of the saccharine "Footsteps" poem.)  The only link to Baptism is the fact that Baptism comes through the Cross of Christ, and, thus, through Christ Himself, the angel and the man who were awaited at Bethesda.

Yet, when we turn to On the Mysteries, we find a startlingly different interpretation, one that has its eyes set like flint on Baptism.  The applicable passage from On the Mysteries (IV) reads:

"21. ...Believe that these are not empty waters.

22. Therefore, it is said to you: For angel of the Lord descended, in its time, into the swimming pool, and the water was moved, and whoever first descended into the swimming pool after the moving of the water, became healed from whatever languor he was held by (Jn 5:4).  This pool was in Jerusalem, in which one soul was healed: but no one was healed before the angel descended.  So that it would be indicated that the angel had descended, the water was moved, for the incredulous.  A sign for them, faith for you; the angel descended for them, the Holy Spirit for you; a creature was moved for them, Christ Himself, the Lord of creatures, works for you.

23. Then, one was cured, now, all are healed, or, certainly, one sole Christian people; for, in other places, there is even deceitful water (cf. Jer 15:18).  The baptism of the perfidious does not heal, nor wash, but pollutes.  The Jew baptizes pitchers and chalices (cf. Mk 7:4), as if insensible things could receive either fault or grace.  You, here, baptize your sensible chalice, in which your good works shine, in which your grace’s splendor is refulgent.  And, therefore, that pool was in figure, so that you would believe that, into the font here, divine power descends.

24. Therefore, that paralytic awaited a man (cf. Jn 5:7).  Who was that, except the Lord Jesus, born from the Virgin, by Whose advent, now, a shadow does not cure individuals, but truth cures all?  He is, therefore, the One expected to descend, of Whom God the Father spoke to John the Baptist: Over Whom you will see the Spirit descending from heaven, and remaining over Him, He is the One Who baptizes in the Holy Spirit (Jn 1:33).  Of which John testified, saying: For I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove and remaining over Him (Jn 1:32).  And why did the Spirit descend here like a dove, except so that you would see, except so that you would know that even that dove, which Noah the just sent out from the ark (cf. Gen 8:8), was the appearance of this dove, so that you would know the type of the Sacrament?

25. And perhaps you say: 'While that which was sent out was a true dove, here One "like a dove" descended: why do we say that was the appearance, this the truth, when, according to the Greeks, it is written that the Spirit descended "in the appearance of a dove"?'  But what is as true as the divinity which remains forever?  Yet a creature cannot be truth, but appearance, which is easily dissolved and changed.  Likewise, the simplicity of those who are baptized ought to be, not in appearance, but truth.  Whence the Lord also says: Be astute as serpents, and simple as doves (Mt 10:16).  Therefore, He worthily descended like a dove, so that He would admonish us that we ought to have the simplicity of doves.  But we read the appearance and are to accept it as true also about Christ—And He was found in appearance as a man (Phil 2:7)—and about God the Father—Nor have you seen His appearance (Jn 5:37)."

(First, a quick note on the wording of Jn 5:4 in §22: the generally-accepted Vulgate text of this verse uses the word piscina for "pool."  But Ambrose here—matching a 6th-century Milanese manuscript of the Vulgate—instead uses the word natatoria, related to the verb nato, "I swim."  To emphasize the distinction, I have translated it "swimming pool" here.)

We see some similarities to the treatment in On the Sacraments: the man who was awaited was Jesus; "a sign for them," the incredulous, "faith for you," the believers (cf. 1 Cor 14:22).  But, here, the Holy Spirit dominates the discussion, He Who was absent from the treatment in On the Sacraments.

The One Who "troubles the waters" of the Baptismal pool is the Holy Spirit.  (Similarly, He is the One Who "is borne above the waters" (Gen 1:2), and "Did He Who was borne above not work?  Know that He worked in that fabrication of the world..."  Likewise, He works here, when He is borne above the Baptismal pool, for this Mystery is "prefigured in the origin of the world itself."  See On the Mysteries III.9.)  By the working of the Holy Spirit and of Christ, these waters become truly saving waters.  Our Baptisms are not just meaningless washings, like the ceremonial washings performed by the Jews; nor are our waters "deceitful," so that they pollute instead of healing.  (Probably the "baptism of the perfidious" was a reference to a heretical group with invalid Baptisms, though it's possible it's a reference to the Jewish washings Ambrose discusses next: recall the infamous epithet of the "perfidious Jews" in the Roman Good Friday service.)

The expectation of the coming of Jesus is also linked to the Holy Spirit, for, in His Baptism, the Holy Spirit descended like a dove, recalling Noah's dove, and, in this recalling, making the Flood a type of Baptism.  And this "likeness," this "appearance" of a dove, does not deny the Holy Spirit's true presence, either at Jesus' Baptism or, consequently, at our own.  By His true presence, a true regeneration is effected: "If the Holy Spirit, coming upon the Virgin, worked the conception, and fulfilled the duty of generation, certainly, it is not to be doubted that, coming over the font, or over those who acquire Baptism, He works the truth of regeneration" (Mysteries IX.59).

It is only by the Spirit's coming, by the Spirit's "troubling the water," that the water becomes salvific.  "You saw the water, but not all water heals; but that water heals which has the grace of Christ.  One is the element, another the consecration: one the work, another the working.  Water is the work, the Holy Spirit’s is the working.  Water does not heal, unless the Spirit descends, and consecrates that water" (Sacraments I.V.15).  Though we do not see the Spirit descend, that does not mean He is not there.  "A sign to the incredulous, faith to the believing" (Sacraments II.II.4).  He appeared "bodily" at Christ's Baptism; He appeared much more bodily at Pentecost, in the tongues of flame, where He "willed to demonstrate Himself, even bodily, to the incredulous, that is, bodily through a sign, spiritually through a Sacrament...since, in the beginning, signs were done for the incredulous, now, for us, in the fullness of the Church, truth is to be gathered, not by a sign, but by faith" (Sacraments II.V.15).  

So, though we do not see the water moved now, we believe that the Holy Spirit works in Baptism, being borne over the waters, troubling them, when He responds to the priest's invocation, and, in this troubling, He makes the waters able to save, able to heal.  But this working of the Holy Spirit, emphasized more in the passage from On the Mysteries, does not conflict with the emphasis on Christ's role in Baptism in the passage from On the Sacraments.  "In all which we do, the mystery of the Trinity is preserved.  Everywhere is the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, one operation, one sanctification" (Sacraments VI.II.5).  For the Spirit is not separate from the Father and the Son: there is one and "the same Holy Spirit, the same Spirit of God, the same Spirit of Christ, the same Spirit Paraclete" (Sacraments VI.II.9).

In sum, Ambrose's two interpretations of the Pool of Bethseda in the context of Baptism do not conflict, but rather cooperate.  For Christ, though also the Angel of Good Counsel, is truly the awaited man who will carry the sick to the pool, "the man who will make you saved" (Is 19:4).  Before His coming, we said, like the paralytic, "I have no man"; now, we have a man, the Man-God and God-Man.  He will carry us down to that pool which is now troubled, not by an angel, but by a descending, flaming dove, by the Holy Spirit Who, being borne over the waters, works upon them.  And all is in accord with the Father's plan, the Father's blessing, the Father's prefiguring.  "Everywhere is the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, one operation, one sanctification" of this pool of ours, this "laver of regeneration" (Tit 3:5), this new and better Pool of Bethesda, open, not just "in season," but always, open, not just for "the first man," but for all men, open, not just to heal bodies, but to heal souls. 

Source: St. Ambrose's On the Mysteries can be found in PL 16:389-410, and On the Sacraments can be found in PL 16:417-462.

Text and Translations ©2024 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the author and translator.

Marco Girolamo Vida: The Lightening of Hell

 Introduction

Christ is risen!  

I intended to post this closer to Pascha, originally on Great and Holy Saturday, but it is still fitting even now.  This poem is a loose translation, close to a paraphrase, of a passage from the Christiad, a Latin epic poem by Marco Girolamo Vida (1485-1566).  Here, he represents the descent of Christ into Hades to free the souls imprisoned there; Vida's description of Hell and Satan, throughout the Christiad, was a key influence on John Milton's descriptions in Paradise Lost.  My translation is written in a kind of four-foot blank verse, an unrhymed, loosely iambic tetrameter.  (True blank verse, as in Milton, is unrhymed iambic pentameter.)  It is not perfectly metrical, but I inclined more towards closeness to the original than to metrical perfection.

There are a number of full English translations of Vida's epic; the 18th-century translations (John Cranwell, Edward Granan) are in heroic couplets; the 20th-century translations by Drake and Forbes (see Source below) and James Gardner (I Tatti Renaissance Library) are in prose. 

The Lightening of Hell

(A Paraphrase of Marco Girolamo Vida’s Christiad VI.198-221)

Behold, there comes, without delay,
Avenger of the greatest might
up to the doors, and light divine
there splendid shines.  Enormous gate,
with hundred bars of bronze, stays shut,
eternal gate.  None availed
to conquer this, no flame, no force,
no strength of hardest iron.  But here
stands God, and strikes with His right hand.
At the blow, earth, terror-struck,
quakes in every place, the stars
which wander all throughout the sky
tremble, darkness’ kingdom’s shadowed
caverns echo the sovereign boom.
From deepest vale, with horrid march,
in haste, light-fliers’ brothers’ band
comes forth, in fear of sound—
human in form unto the groin
and dragons from there—and with unwonted
roar they shout, and dire fire
flows from out their jaws, and all
the house is wrapped in smoke of pitch.
At once the doors are open—behold!—
suddenly the posts from hinges spring,
shaken, shattered by their own will.
Within the house all seems confused,
and, round the highest atria,
the darkness shrinks, and once-blind night
recedes.  For God, thus so beheld,
blinding eyes within the halls
obscure, shines with light divine.
And as a gem in royal chambers,
imitating fire’s glow,
gleams with splendor in the night,
and blackest darkness puts to flight,
and all the place with largesse clothes,
casting round its crimson light—
so is God in Satan’s halls.

Source: Marco Girolamo Vida, The Christiad: A Latin-English Edition, ed. and tr. Gerturde C. Drake and Clarence A. Forbes (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1978), 250.

Translation ©2024 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the translator.

Bowels of Mercy

The heart is the metaphorical center of man's emotions: when he speaks "from the heart," he is saying what is truest to him, what he really feels.  When we listen to "what the heart says," we are listening to those deep feelings that we really hold, but which we might try to avoid (our subconscious, if we want to speak psychologically).  When we "pour out our heart," we are unleashing the feelings we normally keep under wraps.  It is fitting that the Lord Who knows all--even our deepest thoughts and feelings--would be described as the "heart-knower" (καρδιογνωστης) (Acts 1:24, 5:8).

So it is in English, at least.  But other languages have other metaphors, other arrangements of bodily functions.  Thus Hebrew, and often Greek, finds the seat of emotions in another place: the bowels.

We have many English names for what is buried in our abdomen: bowels, guts, innards, entrails, viscera, inner organs, etc.  They generally all refer to the same thing: that mess of organs and tissues and blood hidden beneath our belly-skin.  At first, it might sound disgusting to find the seat of our emotions there, in that bloody mess, but don't forget what the heart--the true heart, not the scalloped symbol of Valentine's Day candy--is like: a bloody mass of muscle, with tubes and veins all over.

Further thought finds that the bowels are not absent from English feelings either.  When we "have a bad feeling about this," it's not generally a feeling in our heart or in our head: it's a feeling in our guts.  It's a "sinking in our stomach."  (Though it can also include a creeping on our skin and goosebumps.)  When we feel oddly confident about something, we say that it's a "gut feeling."  Something that we revile makes us "sick to our stomach."  

Most of these bowel-feelings in English are negative, with the notable exception of a confident "gut feeling."  But in Hebrew and Greek, the feelings are many, and the most striking--to me--is what is simply known as "good-bowels" (ευσπλαγχνια, eusplagchnia).

One of the oldest known Marian prayers is the one typically known by its Latin title, Sub tuum praesidium, "Beneath your protection."  Latin was not its origin, though: the earliest form is found in Greek, in a Coptic liturgical text.  (The Coptic language itself is originally a liturgical amalgam of Demotic Egyptian and Greek, and Coptic liturgical texts often borrow Greek words, phrases, or even whole prayers without alteration.)    In that form--still prayed in Byzantine Churches around the world--we do not flee to Mary's "protection," but rather to her "compassion" or "mercy," or--more literally--her "good bowels" (ευσπλαγχνια).

These "good-bowels" mean that one's deepest feelings toward another are good, in a full sense.  Greek has other words in this sphere: συμπαθεια (sympatheia) is the origin of "sympathy," that "suffering-with" that is the exact same etymological meaning as "compassion"; ελεος (eleos) is the general term for "mercy," which Greek writers constantly relate to its near-homonym ελαιος (elaios), "oil," so that mercy is like pouring cleansing, healing oil on wounds.  We Byzantines constantly pray for the Lord's mercy, for His ελεος (sharing a root with the imperative ελεησον, eleison), but we also often speak of the Lord's great ευσπλαγχνια.  Perhaps we might (tentatively) say that ελεος is more active, more related to the work of mercy, whereas ευσπλαγχνια is more of a state of being, a condition, though one that necessarily flows forth into action. 

So, as the Romans celebrated Divine Mercy Sunday, we can all recall the All-Merciful Lord and the deep compassion He has for us, the deep goodness of His bowels towards us, and also the compassion of His Mother, in which we take refuge, she who is the tongs holding the "noetic coal taking flesh from you...burning up the woody sins of all mortals, and Goddenning"--or, more Latinately, "divinizing"--"our nature through His compassion" (Pentecostarion, Sunday of the 5th Week, Canon of the Samaritan Woman, Ode 8).  

May He ever have compassion for us, He Who is the Lover of Mankind.

Text ©2024 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the author.

The Exultet of the Ambrosian Rite

 Introduction

Translated here is the opening of the Paschal Vigil in the Ambrosian Rite, which begins after the chanting of the Ninth Hour on Holy Saturday.   My translation is based on the scanned missal pages included in Nicola de Grandi, "Easter in the Ambrosian Rite -- Part II," 4/04/2010, https://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/2007/03/further-notes-on-ambrosian-rite.html.  I'm not sure what the source is for de Grandi's scanned pages, but the text seems generally identical to that found in the 1640 Missale Ambrosianum, pp. 145-157 of the second paginated section, though I have not compared every line.  De Grandi's article gives an overview of the whole Paschal Vigil in the Ambrosian Rite; the ceremonies translated below stop before the Scripture readings.

Let the angelic crowd of the heavens now exult:
let the divine mysteries exult,
and, because of such a King’s victory, let the trumpet of salvation sound.
Let the earth, irradiated by splendors, rejoice so much,
and, lustered by the eternal King’s splendor, let the whole globe feel the gloom depart.
Let Mother Church delight too, adorned with the splendor of such light,
and let this hall resound with the great voices of the peoples.
Wherefore, you who stand, beloved brethren, in the so wondrous clarity of this holy light,
one with me, I beseech you, invoke the mercy of the Almighty God.
So that He Who deigned to gather me among the number of Levites, not by my merits,
infusing the grace of His light, would begin to complete the praise of this Candle.
With the aid of our Lord Jesus Christ His Son,
living and reigning with Him, God, in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
through all the ages of ages. Amen.

℣: The Lord be with you.

℟: And with your spirit.

℣: Lift up your hearts.

℟: We lift them up to the Lord.

℣: Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

℟: It is right and just.

It is right and just, indeed, it is truly right and just, fitting and saving, for us, here and everywhere, to give You thanks, holy Lord, Father Almighty, eternal God. Who declared that the Pascha of all peoples would be [offered], not with the cattle’s blood or fat, but with the Body and Blood of Your Only-Begotten, our Lord, Jesus Christ, so that, supplanting the rite of the ungrateful nation, grace would succeed the law, and one victim, once offered by itself to Your Majesty, would expiate the offense of all the world. This is the Lamb prefigured in the stone tablets, not led forth from the flocks, but sent forth from heaven, not lacking a shepherd, being being Himself the Good Shepherd Who lays down His soul for His sheep and takes it up again, so that the divine deigning would show us humility, and the bodily resurrection, hope. Who, before the shearer, did not send out a cry of bleating complaint, but proclaimed with evangelic oracle, saying: “Henceforth you will see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of majesty.” Let Him reconcile us and You, Father Almighty, and grant it, supported by a majesty equal with You. For what reached the fathers in figure comes to us in truth.

Here the Subdeacon bears the lamp lit with the new fire into the Choir. Then the Deacon lights the great Candle, and two other candles; immediately there follows:

Behold, now the column of fire shines, which goes before the people, in the time of the blessed night, to the saving streams, in which the persecutor is submerged, and [from which] Christ’s people emerge liberated. For, conceived by the wave of the Holy Spirit, born to death through Adam, it is reborn to life through Christ. Let us therefore unloose the voluntarily-celebrated fasts, for Christ our Pascha is sacrificed; let us not only feast on the Body of the Lamb, but let us also be inebriated by His Blood. For let the drinkers not believe that His Blood is propitiation,¹ but [rather] salvation. Let us also eat of this unleavened bread, too, for man does not live on bread alone, but on every word of God. Indeed, this is the bread which descended from heaven, far more wondrous than that frugal-flowing dew of manna, having feasted upon which, Israel then perished. He who feeds on this true Body, becomes a possessor of perennial life. Behold, the old have passed away: all things are made new. For the sword’s point of Mosaic circumcision is now dulled, and the sharp bitterness of the stones of Joshua [son] of Nun² has grown old; truly, Christ’s people are signed on the forehead, not on the groin, with the wash, not with the wound, with Chrism, not with bloodshed.

Here the Deacon sticks five grains of incense into the Candle, in the shape of a Cross.

Therefore, it is fitting, on this arrival of the evening resurrection of our Lord and Savior, for us to burn wax instead of fat, whose heat it accords with in appearance, sweetness in scent, splendor in light, which does not flow with wasting liquor, nor exhale the offense of foul stench. For what is more befitting and more festive than that we keep watch³ over Jesse’s flower with flowers and torches? Especially when even Wisdom sings of herself, “I am the flower of the field, and the lily of the valley.”⁴ Therefore, the burnt-up pine does not sweat wax, nor does the wounded cedar with close-knit two-edge branches weep with it, but its creation is a secret of virginity, and they grow white through the transfiguration of snow’s whiteness. Truly, the liquid wave of the reeds’ font produces it, which, an image of the innocent soul, is divided into no interwoven joints, but, enclosed in virginal matter, the nursling of rivulets is hospitable to fires.⁵ Therefore, it is fitting to meet the coming of the Bridegroom with the sweet lamps of the Church, and, having received the largesse of holiness, to think of how much the gift of devotion avails, to not interrupt the holy watches with darkness, but to wisely prepare a torch with perpetual lights, lest, while candle-oil is added, we approach the coming of the Lord with a late service, He Who will certainly come in the blink of an eye, like lightning.⁶

Here the lamps are lit, and the other lights of the Church.

Therefore, in the evening of this day, all the fullness of the venerable sacrament is gathered together, and those things which were prefigured or done in various times are supplied in the unfolding of the course of this night. For, first, this evening light comes forth, like that star leading the Magi. Then follows the wave of mystical regeneration, that is, the Lord granting it,⁷ the streams of Jordan. Third, the apostolic voice of the Priest announces the Resurrection of Christ. Then, to fulfill the whole mystery, the crowd of the faithful is fed on Christ. May the day of the Resurrection of the Lord be thus undertaken,⁸ sanctified by the prayer or merits of Your high Priest and Archbishop Ambrose, with Christ making everything prosper. Through Your good and blessed Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, with Whom, blessed, You live and reign, God, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, through all the ages of ages. Amen.

Then the Deacon sprinkles [holy water] and lights the Candle. 

 

1Piaculum refers to some means of appeasing a deity, such as a sin-offering or a propitiatory sacrifice.

2In Jos 5:2, the Lord commands Joshua to circumcise the Israelites a second time with “stony knives” (cultros lapideos) or “flint knives” (RSV-CE).

3Excubo originally has the sense of “camping out” of “sleeping outside”; thus the watch being kept here is an outdoors one.

4Sgs 2:2.

5I confess that I had trouble fully understanding these two sentences, especially with their heavily poetic nature. The prayer seems to be explaining the origin of the wax used: it does not come from pines or cedars, but from reeds (papyrum). Reeds grow singular and straight, not jointed like a tree’s branches; I think that is what is meant by it being “divided into no interwoven joints” (nullis articulatur sinuata compagibus). Being singular, a reed is virginal, and an image of an innocent soul—consider Kierkegaard’s Purity of the Heart Is to Will One Thing, and St. James’ rebuke of the “double-souled” (Jas 1:8).

6Here is an interesting twist on the Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins. In Jesus’ parable, the wise are those who have oil, and the foolish must go buy some. Here, even having oil is foolish, because it takes time to refill the lamp with oil, and this causes a delay. Instead, the truly wise have wax candles instead, which, lit once, never need to be refilled. That way, there will be no “late service” (tardo...obsequio).

7Dignante Domino.

8More literally, this phrase should be worded, “Let this”—what was just discussed—”undertake the day of the Lord’s Resurrection” (Quae...Resurrectionis Dominicae diem...suscipiat).

Translation ©2024 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the translator.