The Roman Liturgy: Epiphanytide – “Ordinary Time” or our Entrance into Eternity?

“For we, who have believed, shall enter into rest.”

The Roman Liturgy (Click to expand)

An ongoing series of standalone pieces about the Roman liturgy, hope and the crisis in the Church

Septuagesima I: The Beginning of the Liturgical Year?
Septuagesima II: The Babylonian Captivity and the Crisis in the Church
Lent I: The Protection of God
Lent II: “What Think You of Christ?”
Lent III: Laetare Sunday and the Church
Passiontide I: The Silence of Passiontide
Passiontide II: The Composure and Agony of Passiontide
Holy Week: Maundy Thursday and the Stripping of the Church
Holy Week: Good Friday and Christ’s Royal Throne
Easter Octave: Faith and Failing to Recognise the Church

Christ the King: “Are you a King, then?” – Christendom and the Social Kingship of Christ
Advent I: The Advent Liturgy and the Apocalypse
Advent II: The Close Presence of Christ in Advent
Advent III: Advent and the Preparation for Victory
Christmas and Christ’s Triumph over Darkness
Epiphany as the Manifestation of Christ’s Kingship
Epiphanytide: Ordinary Time or our Entrance into Eternity?

Image: Flickr, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 DEED. This is an expanded and updated version of an article originally published at LifeSiteNews in January 2023


The Roman Liturgy
Epiphanytide – The Season

In the last piece, we discussed the significance of Epiphany, and how the events which it commemorates – the coming of the Magi, the baptism of the Lord, and the Wedding at Cana – point towards the consummation of time, and the manifestation of Christ as King.

As the twentieth century liturgical writer Fr Johannes Pinsk writes:

“[Epiphany] brings together, in a single perspective, the promises and their fulfilment and brings them together in a single celebration from Advent to Epiphany. This is what gives the Christmas cycle its unique beauty.”[1]

He also states that Epiphany “truly contains all the fullness of salvation that the coming of Christ brings”, and writes elsewhere:

“In reality, it is the whole of the ‘epiphanic’ mystery that the Church celebrates, and in this whole, the first coming of the Lord in the humility of the flesh appears to us clothed in all the splendor of his coming in glory and majesty.

“And precisely what gives this feast an unparalleled depth is that it celebrates, in sacramental form, the final manifestation of Christ which will be the crowning of the Redemption.”

We ended the previous piece with some further questions:

  • Where does this leave the Sundays and the season after Epiphany?
  • Does Epiphanytide represent a waiting period, of variable length, before Septuagesima and the Easter cycle?
  • If Epiphany represents the end of a liturgical cycle, then when does the liturgical year start? And what might this tell us about the Septuagesima-Lent-Easter cycle itself?

Epiphanytide

Epiphany (like the other feasts) uses the commemoration of past events in order to celebrate what is to be fulfilled in the future, and indeed in the present.

The sense of fullness and permanence of Christ’s manifestation as King continues in Epiphanytide. Specifically, the Sundays following Epiphany are filled with the overflow of what Pinsk calls “the whole radiant glory of the festal Mass” of Epiphany, and represent a whole world made new in Christ and in submission to his kingship.[2]

For example, the various liturgical texts in the Sundays after Epiphany depict a renewed creation worshiping God. Consider the Introits, which all allude to the victory of universal praise offered to God:

First Sunday (transferred to the following Monday): “Upon a high throne I saw a man sitting, Whom a multitude of angels adore, singing in unison: Behold Him, the name of Whose empire is forever.
V. Sing joyfully to God, all you lands; serve the Lord with gladness.”

Second Sunday: “Let all on earth worship You, O God, and sing praise to You, sing praise to Your name, Most High.
V. Shout joyfully to God, all you on earth, sing praise to the glory of His name; proclaim His glorious praise.”

Third to Sixth Sundays: “Adore God, all you His angels: Sion hears and is glad, and the cities of Juda rejoice.
V. The Lord is King; let the earth rejoice; let the many isles be glad.”

These Sundays bring us into a world restored in Christ, in which everything has been finally set right. The repetition of these propers over the weeks presents this world as something final and permanent – a sense of having finally arrived and resting at our destination. This is all the more clear in years with a later date for Easter, in that these propers will be repeated even more.

Across these final weeks, we see the following sentiments of definitive victory repeated each week at Mass:

Gradual: The Gentiles shall fear thy name, O LOrd, an all the kings of the earth thy glory.
V. For the Lord hath built up Sion: and he shall be seen in his glory.

Alleluia, Alleluia: The Lord hath reigned, let the earth rejoice: let many islands be glad. Alleluia.

Offertory: The right hand of the Lord hath wrought strength: the right hand of the Lord hath exalted me: I shall not die, but live, and shall declare the works of the Lord.

Communion: All wondered at these things which proceeded from the mouth of God.

Those parts which change across these Sundays also emphasise the vision of peace and security. For instance, the Gospel on the Fourth Sunday depicts Christ calming the storm; the Fifth depicts him as the sower, serenely waiting for the cockle in his field to be burnt up in the fire; and the Sixth presents the Church, the Kingdom of Heaven, as a great tree in whose branches the birds dwell, and as the leaven leavening the bread of the world.

Many people see Epiphany as little more than a feast marking the end of Christmas, and inaugurating a period of “ordinary time” before something else happens. In such a paradigm, we can see why the reformers renamed the Sundays after Epiphany just that: “ordinary time.”

But far from being a period of “ordinary time”, each of these Sundays after Epiphany present us with a vision of universal praise being rendered to God, by a Creation which has been made new.

If the feast of the Epiphany itself represents the definitive manifestation of Christ in glory, then these Sundays and this period represent the eternal consummation of the marriage feast of the Lamb. As is sung at the Benedictus antiphon for Epiphany itself:

This day is the Church joined unto the Heavenly Bridegroom, since Christ hath washed away her sins in Jordan; the wise men hasten with gifts to the marriage supper of the King; and they that sit at meat together make merry with water turned into wine. Alleluia.”

The sharp break between the permanent rest of Epiphanytide and the terror of Septuagesima is one reason why some writers see the latter as the beginning of the liturgical year, rather than Advent.

But does this not go against many symbolic interpretations of the liturgical year?

Symbolism in the Roman Liturgy

It may seem strange to think of Epiphany and Epiphanytide as representing the culmination of the liturgical year, and Septuagesima as its beginning.

But the fact that our liturgical books begin with Advent may have arisen for some quite prosaic reasons, unconnected with the internal logic of the Roman rite.

Many things in the Roman liturgy have appeared for such prosaic or practical reasons, and only later acquired the symbolic meanings that we might today consider normative. Fr Adrian Fortescue wrote:

“The origin of most of our ceremonies really was some reason of practical utility.”

And:

“The pure Roman rite was exceedingly simple, austerely plain; nothing was done except for some reason of practical utility.”[3]

He explains further:

“The old, pure Roman rite was nothing if not austerely practical. It contained no ceremonies done for their own sake, no decorative or symbolic features, as do the Eastern rites. Nothing could be wider of the mark than the common Protestant idea that our Liturgy is made up for theatrical effects, that we deliberately hold gorgeous ceremonies to impress people’s imagination. The exact opposite is true.

“If there is a fair reproach that could be made against the Roman liturgical tradition it is rather that, in its austere simplicity, in its exceeding commonsense, it is even dull. Fortunately, in the course of the year we have a few ceremonies taken from other rites, just enough to take away this reproach, not enough to change the essentially sober Roman feeling of the whole.”[4]

For these reasons, he concluded:

“[I]n Roman ceremonies [as opposed to those in the Roman liturgy, but borrowed from other rites or uses] it is always safest to look for a practical explanation first.”[5]

As an example, after explaining the prosaic origin of the “knocking” at the end of Tenebrae (a sign to depart), which has come to symbolise the earthquake at the moment of Christ’s death, Fortescue writes:

“This is a most typical example of the way a ceremony is evolved, and acquires later symbolic meaning.”[6]

Application to the Liturgical Year

What, then, are we to make of the appearance of Advent at the start of all our liturgical books, and treated as the start of the year by many writers?

Fr Louis Bouyer gives some suggestions. Bouyer was a controversial figure in the liturgical movement and post-conciliar period: while his material should be treated with caution, it is far from being without value, and makes sense of the different factors we have been considering in this series.

In terms of the actual ordering of our liturgical books, Bouyer writes, in keeping with Fortescue’s points:

“… the older liturgical books did not distinguish, as we do, between the ‘temporal’ and ‘sanctoral’ cycles. These books simply took all the months as they came on the civil calendar, beginning with January, and put in each one the various feasts as they were assigned to special days, or as they generally fell on some one or other day of each month.

“When this arrangement was discarded for a more coherent one [namely, the temporal and sanctoral cycles], it must have appeared illogical to begin the year with Epiphany and end with Christmas, or, since the connection between Advent and Christmas was felt to be so strong, to begin with Christmas and leave Advent for the end.

“It seems, therefore, that the present arrangement of our books is a compromise between the fact that the civil calendar begins with January, and the fact that Advent, Christmas and Epiphany form a whole season.

“This arrangement, then, is probably no more than an attempt to keep as close as possible to the civil year in ordering the Temporal cycle of the liturgical year, while at the same time, avoiding the separation of feasts that are intimately connected.”[7]

Both Bouyer and Pinsk take the view that the internal logic of the Roman rite has the annual cycle beginning with Septuagesima. They point to the propers’ abrupt change in tone between Epiphanytide and Septuagesima, especially in contrast with the smooth continuity between the end of the time after Pentecost and the start of Advent; as well as the content of the Septuagesima liturgy, in which the Church begins reading the book of Genesis at Matins.

As we shall see in due course, the propers of Septuagesima, more than those of Advent, place us in the position of fallen man in need of redemption. This fits with Easter as the historical time for baptism, with Septuagesima and Lent serving as times of preparation for the catechumens, and as times of renewal for those who are already baptised.

While piety for tradition and our spiritual writers should prevent us from abandoning a liturgical year starting with Advent, there are compelling reasons, internal to the Roman liturgy, for seeing Septuagesima as the start of the annual cycle. Perhaps, for the sake of this piety, we could treat it simply as another paradigm or way of viewing the year – or even as “another” annual cycle running concurrently.

There is nothing ordinary about entering into eternity

This in turn makes sense of some of the apocalyptic notes of the coherent period from Advent to Epiphanytide. In this mini-cycle, the Church is using Christ’s first coming in order to point us to his final coming, and the glorious and eternal wedding feast of the Lamb. The Sundays following the Epiphany serve as the commencement of eternal life and light.

This is manifested both in the texts of the propers themselves, as well as their repetition over the remaining weeks (even if they are curtailed by Septuagesima).

Far from being a mere tail-end to Christmas and period of waiting, Epiphany and Epiphanytide are the crown of the whole AdventChristmasEpiphany cycle. They represent the peace and eternal rest which follows Christ’s manifestation to the world, and his sovereignty over it. More than this, the feast and season can also be seen as the culminating point of the liturgical year, and the fulfilment of what is promised in the baptismal preparation of Septuagesima and Lent.

Pinsk actually takes these perspectives further, saying that we are dealing with more than a mere commemoration or didactic exercise:

“[T]he Church not only reminds us of these mysteries in words; she does something more: through the sacraments she makes them present and efficacious.”

He draws a comparison between Christ’s triumphal entry into the world as our Emperor, and the priest’s ascent to the altar while the Church sings, “Behold, the Lord and Ruler is come; and the kingdom is in His hand.” He continues:

“[T]his royal glory does not rest on the priest alone, even though he is Christ’s representative by a special title; it also rests on the faithful who bring their offerings to the altar, on those Christians who by the gift of themselves are incorporated into Christ’s offering.

“This procession is accompanied by a chant which brings out in an admirable way the royal character, the ‘regale sacerdotium’ of the people of God:

“’The kings of Tarshish and the isles will offer gifts; the kings of Arabia and Sheba bring him their gifts, and all the kings of the earth worship him, all the nations serve him.’”

As we saw in previous considerations of the AdventChristmasEpiphany cycle, the Church herself truly is Christ in the world today – and as such, she already possesses the glory promised in the Epiphany. For this reason, Pinsk wants us to appreciate what this means for us in what he calls the “days of unrest such as the ones we are living in”:

“Throughout the centuries, the Church celebrates, full of pride, the ‘epiphany’ of her King.

“No earthly power can frighten or intimidate her, because she is certain of the final triumph of her Christ, on that day, as St. Paul says, when, with every empire, domination and power destroyed, there will be no place but for the Kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Along the same lines, he writes elsewhere:

“[T]he community of worshipers regard [him] with shining eyes, by him they are enthralled, as they confess the glory of Christ the King. They also know that the Lord will not fail to lead his kingdom to final victory in the face of the political and human chaos now seething in our time.

“With its celebration of the Epiphany of the Lord, the Christian community of worshipers places itself in this kingdom and so even now takes possession of its glory.”[8]

Conclusion

Shocking though it may sound, this Church is in fact you, me, and all of us who are baptised, profess the faith and remain united to the body. In the celebration of Epiphanytide, we take possession now of the glory which Christ wills for us as members of his body. Thus we continue his mission on earth.

In this glory, we are assured of the triumph, and are merely “cleaning up” the remaining skirmishes of the war. The Church uses the liturgy of this AdventChristmasEpiphany cycle to form us into a force worthy of our King, standing ready for him at his final coming, in which he will “conquer the whole world and all [his] enemies, and thus enter into the glory of [his] Father.”[9]

As we all know, the final victory is to be accomplished at any moment – a victory which Christ wishes to accomplish with us.

It is the eternity and the rest following this final, decisive victory that are commemorated and even begun in Epiphany and Epiphanytide, especially in the light of the proper texts, and their stable repetition over these remaining Sundays. This is the rest spoken of in the Letter to the Hebrews:

“For we, who have believed, shall enter into rest.” (Heb. 4.3)

This is the eternal rest, in which the Son of God will put all his enemies under his feet, wipe away every tear from our eyes, and make all things new – for the greater glory of God.


Further Reading:

Fr Henry James Coleridge – The Return of the King – Discourses on the Latter Days
Fr H.M. Féret OP – The Apocalypse of St John
Dom Prosper Guéranger – The Liturgical Year
Fr Johannes Pinsk – The Cycle of Christ

The Roman Liturgy (Click to expand)

An ongoing series of standalone pieces about the Roman liturgy, hope and the crisis in the Church

Septuagesima I: The Beginning of the Liturgical Year?
Septuagesima II: The Babylonian Captivity and the Crisis in the Church
Lent I: The Protection of God
Lent II: “What Think You of Christ?”
Lent III: Laetare Sunday and the Church
Passiontide I: The Silence of Passiontide
Passiontide II: The Composure and Agony of Passiontide
Holy Week: Maundy Thursday and the Stripping of the Church
Holy Week: Good Friday and Christ’s Royal Throne
Easter Octave: Faith and Failing to Recognise the Church

Christ the King: “Are you a King, then?” – Christendom and the Social Kingship of Christ
Advent I: The Advent Liturgy and the Apocalypse
Advent II: The Close Presence of Christ in Advent
Advent III: Advent and the Preparation for Victory
Christmas and Christ’s Triumph over Darkness
Epiphany as the Manifestation of Christ’s Kingship
Epiphanytide: Ordinary Time or our Entrance into Eternity?


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Footnotes (Click to Expand)

[1] This essay draws on the observations of Fr Johannes Pinsk (1891-1957). Fr Pinsk was involved with the twentieth century liturgical movement in ways that many readers would consider regrettable. However, his 1933 essay ‘The Coming of the Lord in the Liturgy’ has a wealth of interesting information about Advent, Christmas and Epiphany, which I would like to share. It also contains some things which traditional Catholics might not appreciate. My purpose here is to present what is good, along with some comments, and so to help us pass a profitable Christmastide. Johannes Pinsk, ‘The Coming of the Lord in the Liturgy’, from Liturgische Zeitschrift Jahrgang, 1932-33 and reproduced in the Bulletin Paroissial Liturgique n. 1, 1938. This version is a DeepL translation from the Spanish version reproduced in El Que Vuelve, Vortice, Buenos Aires 2018. Due to the difficulty of locating a physical copy of this text and giving correct page numbers, I will not clutter the text with references to it – all unreferenced texts from Pinsk come from this article.

[2] Pinsk 1.

[3] Fr Adrian Fortescue, The Mass – A Study of the Roman Liturgy, p 183, 193. Longmans, Green and Co., London, 1912.

[4] Fortescue, The Holy Week Book, p xvii. Burns, Oates and Washbourne, London, 1913.

[5] Fortescue 1913, xiv.

[6] Ibid., xxii.

[7] Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety, University of Notre Dame Press, Notre Dame, Indiana, 1955, p 205 ft. 1

[8] Pinsk 214

[9] St Ignatius, Spiritual Exercises, trans. Louis J. Puhl SJ, The Newman Press, Worthington, Ohio, 1951, n. 093

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