Thomas Sunday, a missing "comma", and the Impact of Biblical Criticism on the Liturgy

I was struck today at Mass (EF) that the epistle was taken from 1 John-- and in particular the fifth chapter, verses 4-10.

Why is this so interesting, you may ask?

The key lies in verses 6-8, the only explicit reference to the unity of the Trinity in the whole of Scripture. In the Douay-Rheims, this verse is translated as

This is he that came by water and blood, Jesus Christ: not by water only, but by water and blood. And it is the Spirit which testifieth, that Christ is the truth.  And there are three who give testimony in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost. And these three are one. And there are three that give testimony on earth: the spirit, and the water, and the blood: and these three are one.

Never heard of it? Not surprising. This line of Scripture is known as the Johannine Comma, and has been omitted from most modern Bibles.

For instance, here is the usually very reliable RSV, same verses:

This is he who came by water and blood, Jesus Christ, not with the water only but with the water and the blood. And the Spirit is the witness, because the Spirit is the truth. There are three witnesses, the Spirit, the water, and the blood; and these three agree.

Where is our reference to the Trinity?! It's gone!

Now, it is not my intention to enter into a whole exegesis of the tradition and modern Scripture scholarship on this particular verse-- it is enough to presume that there are variants in the manuscripts. The question is at what point did these variants enter the manuscripts, and what is the constant tradition of the Church regarding this text? Rather than giving a full exegesis, I'll simply be a good faithful Catholic, and defer to the judgment of Holy Mother Church on this particular matter.

The decree of the Holy Office, dated 13 January 1897 deals with the question of whether or not one can call into question the authenticity of the so-called "comma". Here is the text:

To the question: 'Whether it can safely be denied, or at least called into doubt that the text of St. john in the first epistle, chapter 5, verse 7, is authentic, which read as follows: 'And there are three that give testimony in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost. And these three are one?" -- the response was given on January 13, 1897: In the negative. (Denzinger 2198) 

Now, with the state of the question of the Comma resolved (that Catholics should indeed uphold the integrity of the passage), how does this impact the liturgy?

As I said in the beginning of this post, this was the reading of the Epistle at Mass today. It is retained in the Novus Ordo Missae for this feast in the year B cycle only. However, it seems that the folks who put together the new Lectionary did not want to make reference to the Triune God-- The verses for the reading stop at verse 6, and so avoid any possible controversy that may ensue over the greater issue, which is in fact the question of the official Latin text of the Lectionary, the Nova Vulgata, promulgated in 1979 and the product of a good bit of modern Scripture scholarship.

How is the use of the Nova Vulgata problematic, you may ask? Perhaps we should look to it to see the whole of the passage in question from 1 John:

Hic est, qui venit per aquam et sanguinem, Iesus Christus; non in aqua solum sed in aqua et in sanguine. Et Spiritus est, qui testificatur, quoniam Spiritus est veritas. Quia tres sunt, qui testificantur: Spiritus et aqua et sanguis; et hi tres in unum sunt.

Where is our key passage?! Even in the Nova Vulgata, the official liturgical Latin text of the Church, the reference to the Trinity (which was upheld by the Holy Office as a faithful transmission of the text) is missing from the text!

In contrast, the 1962 Missal, which is based upon the Clementine Vulgate of St. Jerome, has the text in its entirety:

Hic est, qui venit per aquam et sanguinem, Jesus Christus : non in aqua solum, sed in aqua et sanguine. Et Spiritus est, qui testificatur quoniam Christus est veritas. Quoniam tres sunt, qui testimonium dant in cælo : Pater, Verbum, et Spiritus Sanctus: et hi tres unum sunt. Et tres sunt, qui testimonium dant in terra : spiritus, et aqua, et sanguis : et hi tres unum sunt.

Here, we finally see the full passage with the two sets of three who give testimony-- one in heaven, and one on earth, and which the Douay-Rheims sets out an accurate translation into English for us.

The title of this post makes the inference that the modern Biblical criticism has had an impact on the liturgy. In my studies, I can't help but observe a certain parallelism in the Historical-Critical movement and the Liturgical Movement in the 20th c., but here is the rub: if we believe in Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi, then surely the texts of the Mass which we pray and the Scriptures which are proclaimed have an impact on what it is we profess and believe as Catholics.

And yet, where is our "Comma"? What a text! It was such an inspiration to hear and read the profession of the Trinity found in Scripture during the Mass today.

This verse used in the liturgy, or not, as it were, seems to highlight a number of difficulties which we need to reconcile in the faith and life of the Church today. In continuing to implement the Council, in particular the texts on the Word of God and on the Liturgy, we are utterly dependent upon those great traditions that were handed down to us, "whether by word of mouth or by letter", in order to ensure that what we are professing is in fact the Faith of the Church as constantly believed by the great Saints and Martyrs of our history. If we are to become Saints, then it is most beneficial for us to know and pray the same things which were believed and prayed by all of the other Saints, that by following their example, we too will be guided rightly in our lives of faith toward the heavenly liturgy.

On the Sanctification of Time

I am extraordinarily fascinated with the principle "Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi" (The law of prayer is the law of belief), that what we pray and how we pray is directly relational to what we believe.

Most often, we think of the law of prayer being the Mass when we talk about this principle. And for good reason. The primacy of the Mass in the lives of the Faithful as the expression of both lex orandi and lex credendi is the foundation for the objection to the over-use of the Second Eucharistic Prayer in lieu of the Roman Canon: it doesn't express as well the depth of what we believe. And, more imminently, we have the new, corrected translation of the Mass coming out this autumn-- the words we pray are important.

However, I have been thinking of another aspect of liturgy as it pertains to "Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi," as of late. When we speak of liturgy, we are not only talking about the Mass, but the other rites, as well-- the Rite of Ordination, for example-- and not simply the public prayers directly pertaining to the Sacraments, but also the Divine Office as liturgy, and, directly correlating with that, the liturgical calendar, which is what I want to mention today.

There are some glaring discrepancies in the liturgical calendar as celebrated in most parishes: for example, the recently celebrated feast of Ascension Thursday, which is almost universally commuted to Sunday. This not only doesn't work well, catechetically (try explaining how 40=43 to a bunch of elementary school kids), but it disrupts the oldest novena in the Church, the nine days of preparation for the Holy Spirit, promised by Christ to be sent before his ascension. Do we really believe that Christ ascended in to heaven 40 days after his Resurrection? Or perhaps this was simply an event of faith, not one of historical importance to Christendom, and if so, what of the sending of the Holy Spirit? Perhaps it is less important that the Apostles received the Holy Spirit as promised, but more important that it simply "happened". The effects of the historical-critical method of Scripture scholarship are even more pronounced when viewed through the lens of the faith lives of the average parishioner in today's Church.

Today is the Feast of Corpus Christi. However, in most parishes in the world who celebrate the Ordinary Form of the Mass, the feast day will be commuted to Sunday, so as to "enable the Faithful to (more fully, actively, and consciously) participate" in the feast. Inevitably, the scene that will take place in not a few parishes will be a long walk around the block spent catching up on the latest gossip from a friend in the parish (or maybe I'm presuming too much in expecting that there will even be a procession).

This de-sacrilization of time is almost more dangerous to the Faith than many of the causes championed by so-called "progressives" in the Church. To the Church Fathers, to peasants and nobles alike in the middle ages, and even to farmers in the early 20th century, the sanctification of the day, and ordering the temporal to that of the sacred, was a routine of life.

Time means something. When specific feasts are celebrated mean something-- think of Christmas, Christ our Light coming in to the world just at the time when the world is the darkest. Think of your parish's celebrations of Lent and Easter. For forty days we mourn and beat our breasts, but do we celebrate the divine balance, or after Easter Sunday is finished, do we get on with life? The Church, in her Wisdom, gives us 40 days of fasting, but 50 days of feasting. That says to me, yes, we should mourn and repent, and pray, and fast, but that should also inspire in us a desire to celebrate all the more!

For me, prior to looking up the origins of the feast of Corpus Christi (see this incredible article at NLM for more), the sensus fidelium had already turned me to the relationship... Here's a glimpse into my mind as I was thinking about it earlier in the week, and why this feast (now almost universally commuted) would have been on a specific Thursday, anyway: "The feast is celebrated on a Thursday... the feast is the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ... On what day was the Eucharist instituted?Aha!" This is what the liturgical calendar is meant to do in our lives-- we shouldn't all need to be liturgical scholars to "get it"!

In most places, it is almost impossible to find a recently-ordained priest who isn't in line with the Catechism of the Catholic Church. However, the importance of liturgical life, rooted in the family and local community, is an area in which we should seriously consider investing more pastoral effort. The Second Vatican Council, as well as the GIRM of the New Missal, calls for an establishment of "new" rogation days (and, presumably to retain ember days) of prayer for the community at various times of the year (planting, harvesting, etc)-- where are they?!

If the cycles of prayer in the community begin to be lived again (the lex orandi), then surely the belief will follow in response (the lex credendi).