Originally Posted by theink
My question is how did the Church go from 12 guys from the “middle east” walking in sandals with long hair and donkeys to Latin, chanting, and pipe organs?
Broad though it may be, it is an interesting observation.
The picture we have from the Gospels is of an Almighty God incarnate amongst–as the OP points out–Middle Eastern men and women, himself a poor and humble man. He gathers unto himself a small band of men who ultimately share with him his final Pasch, the Church’s first Eucharist. They gather in a room provided by a friend and humbly break bread and share wine. Christ commands them that as often as they gather in such wise to do this, to do it in his memory.
As the years pass after Christ’s departure from their midst, that Eucharist is celebrated in a similar ritual meal fashion by the Apostles with their Churches, in a way more like the Last Supper than unlike it. The Agape is born, which precedes the Eucharist.
Fast forward to November 18, 1626: the humble and martyred Peter’s successor of that day, Pope Urban VIII, is consecrating with a solemnity to surpass the court of the Roman emperors, the vastest and grandest ecclesiastical edifice in all the world (a far cry from the Upper Room or the catacombs) in the context of a Eucharist (no longer called that) that in no wise resembles, externally, either Christ’s Last Supper or the early Christian Agape/Eucharist.
Well, we know of course that there’s alot of history between those two moments that, if we review it, explains the development of the liturgy and of the Christian Church and its government, offices, architecture, art and other externals and accidentals.
But it may be an interesting excercise to actually just allow those two moments to stand side-by-side for a moment–the Last Supper and the Eucharist of the Apostolic era, and the pontifical ceremonies and liturgy consercrating Saint Peter’s Basilica–with everything in between those two moments gutted-out. Are we looking at a stereopticon? Or are we looking at two completely unrelated images?
If it were possible to transport the Apostles and a handful of early Christians to the Rome of Urban VIII for the consecration of St. Peter’s, what, I wonder, would they make of it all? Of the edifice, itself? Of the high and imperial tenor of the complicated liturgical celebration? Of the idea of Peter’s successor as head of the Church of Rome being borne aloft a worshipful and cheering crowd on a throne beneath a canopy, fanned by ostrich feathers, surrounded by armed troops, banner-bearers, and other “apostles” richly draped in scarlet, purple, and ermine?
What would be the reaction of the Apostles to the sight, I wonder? The reaction of the early Christians? Would they recognize, in any of it, Christ’s Last Supper, or their Eucharist? Would they be utterly bewildered? Would they imagine that they were observing, not a Christian bishop at a Christian worship site, but perhaps a Roman Emperor or an Egyptian Pharoah presiding in a pagan temple at a pagan worship ceremony? Would they be appalled when they realized they were seeing a Christian Eucharist in progress, and a bishop, not a pharaoh?
Contrarily, if Urban VIII and his court or his cardinals were to be transported to an agape of the early Church, would they be able to comprehend what they were observing? Would they know that they were witnessing the Holy Mass? And once they did recognize it, would they be appalled and scandalized by what they saw: the relative informality, the lack of ceremony or solemnity, the lack of palls and corporals and purificators, the lack of exquisite vestments and lace, the absence of six candles and a cross, or of incense, or of Latin? No altar, for that matter! At least, nothing they would recognize as one.
I really do believe that if Christians of the Apostolic era could see a Mass of the 17th century in St. Peter’s Basilica, they would be scandalized by it and appalled by the magnificence. Likewise, I believe that if Catholics of the 17th Century were to witness the Agape/Eucharist of the the early Church, they would likewise be appalled and scandalized by the informality of it all.
But the 21st century Church will insist that the one experience was as valid and as good as the other, that we are merely talking about two different modes of expressing the same sacrifice, in two very different eras. I wonder if Christians of either of those eras, however, would be able to agree with that sentiment.