Tag Archives: Catholic Liturgy

A Theological, Historical, and Social Study of Anamnesis in Christian Liturgy

23 Apr

Anamnesis is a central notion in Catholic or, more broadly, in Christian liturgy. Liturgical remembrance of God’s action on behalf of and in relationship with humankind in history is both a starting point for worship and flows from worship. Thus, Dennis C. Smolarski links worship with anamnesis (ἀνάμνησις). This Greek noun, in its New Testament context, most commonly translates into English as “remembrance… a commemoration, [or] memorial.”[1] Smolarski contends that “Christian worship is fundamentally an anamnesis. It is an ‘active’ remembrance of the paschal mystery‒ [of] our salvation through Christ’s death and resurrection.”[2]

As Smolarski suggests, Christian worship is fundamentally anamnetic, as an act in which “the present is brought into intimate contact with the past” and vice-versa. However, this description of anamnesis is more akin to actualizing[3] remembrance than merely “‘active’ remembrance,” as per Smolarski’s definition. In this paper, I will identify key historical and theological points of development of the Christian notion of anamnesis as actualizing memory. I will also highlight points of anamnesis in Catholic liturgy, with particular attention to the structure and origins of Eucharistic Prayers of the Roman Missal. Lastly, in order to demonstrate not only that anamnesis is unlimited by discrete points in liturgy but is meant to move worshippers beyond liturgy, so that liturgy has an effect on society in which it is set, I will briefly relate anamnesis in worship with pastoral concern for social justice.

The semantic range of the term anamnesis, in Greek and to a lesser extent in modern languages, is wide, and this word has undergone historical evolution in meaning. For instance, in the Attic Greek of Plato, ἀνάμνησις was used in an epistemological sense as equivalent to recollection. In Plato’s Meno, Socrates argues that “no one ever seeks to learn anything.”[4] Either one has in mind a prior concept‒ thus one recollects or has anamnesis‒ of a subject of inquiry, and therefore needs not to inquire about that subject, or one has no prior notion of the subject of inquiry, and so the inquiry does not arise.[5] No learning, then, takes place without a priori anamnesis of a subject for learning. Plotinus, a contemporary of early Christians, developed Plato’s doctrine of anamnesis further. According to Plato, one could have recollection as a notion of something that one could not experience, as in the form of an object, versus the object as discerned by the senses. Plotinus, though, held that anamnesis must derive from intelligible matter. Anamnesis was thus the capacity of the rational soul to develop awareness of an intelligible object.[6] In postmodern French literary theory, anamnesis is defined differently again from Plato or Plotinus, as the process whereby the reader enters as a character into the plot of a novel, for example. The reader therefore brings the work’s plot into contact with the present act of reading the text.[7]

None of these historical examples of the evolution of meaning of anamnesis correspond fully with the Christian usage of this term or its significance for Christian worship, although the French postmodern literary notion of anamnesis correlates most closely with its Christian sense of remembrance that brings past action into the present. A clear example of anamnesis in this Christian context, within possibly the earliest written references to the Last Supper and its implications for Christ’s disciples, is found in 1 Corinthians 11:24-25. In consecutive verses, the accusative noun form of ἀνάμνησις, ἀνάμνησιν, is used within a command from St. Paul to the Corinthians, once concerning the bread that has become Christ’s body, and then again concerning the cup of wine transformed into “the new covenant in [Christ’s] blood” (v 25).  Paul reinforces the twofold directive by placing it in the mouth of the Lord himself: “Do this in remembrance of me” (τουτο ποιειτε εἰς την ἐμην ἀνάμνησιν) (vv 24-25). Without using the term anamnesis again, Paul then further explains Christ’s command to commemorate the Last Supper through a communal meal that is at once an act of anamnesis and of eschatological anticipation. Partakers in this meal are transformed by it as both Christ’s past gift of self and future second coming are brought into the present encounter with the Lord: “For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (v 26).

In 1 Corinthians 11:24-26, anamnesis is connected with covenant; the cup in particular is said to be “the new covenant in [Christ’s] blood.” This confluence of covenant and anamnesis is not a Christian novelty. Indeed, a strong connection between anamnesis and covenant exists in ancient Israelite tradition and is central to several Old Testament texts. Dennis Smolarski cites three Biblical verses‒ two from the Old Testament, Exodus 13:8 and Deuteronomy 6:28‒ wherein this covenant-anamnesis link is clear.[8] In Exodus 13:8, the LORD instructs Moses: “On this day you shall explain to your son, ‘This is because of what the LORD did for me when I came out of Egypt.’” This covenant by which God had granted to Israel “the land of Canaan” (Exo 6:4) is again remembered and applied to the relationship between God and Israel in the present tense in Deuteronomy 6:28: “[God] brought us from there to lead us into the land… promised on oath to our [ancestors], and to give it to us.”

Like Smolarski, the National (now United States) Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB) has argued that “the Christian concept of anamnesis”[9] has Jewish roots and was tied to the covenant theology and worship practice of ancient Israel. According to both Smolarski and the NCCB’s Committee on the Liturgy, “anamnesis” in Christianity “coincides with the Jewish understanding of zikkaron,” a Hebrew word that the NCCB renders as “memorial reenactment,”[10] while Smolarski explains it as remembrance “that makes the effects of [a] historical event present and effective for the believer.”[11]

According to Christian understanding, the covenant by which God bestowed Canaan upon the Israelites, having “struck down the Egyptians” but having passed “over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt” (v 27b), has not been abrogated. On the contrary, much as Israel has been instructed to commemorate “the Passover sacrifice of the LORD” (v 27a), Christians make present for all time the salvific and kenotic Passover offering of Jesus Christ. The Pasch of Christ by which a “new covenant” (1 Cor 11:25; Luke 22:20; Heb 8:8, 13; 9:15, 12:24) is established between God and humankind is not the supercession but the actualization and fulfillment of the ancient “covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob” (Exo 2:24). As the NCCB’s Committee on the Liturgy notes, “the synoptic gospels present Jesus as instituting the Eucharist during a Passover [meal] celebrated with his followers, giving to [the Passover] a new and distinctly Christian ‘memory.’”[12] Eucharistic Prayer IV of the Roman Missal proclaims that “while [Jesus and his followers] were at supper,” Jesus gave to “an eternal covenant” new sacramental and anamnetic significance.[13] Therefore, by Christian initiation believers are drawn into participation in the present in Christ’s paschal mystery, as Romans 6:3-4, Smolarski’s third Biblical citation in his chapter on anamnesis and worship, states: “We who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death… We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life.”

On one hand, both the Old and New Testaments are replete with the notion of anamnesis, as the remembrance of God’s past action that leads to “newness of life” in the present. On the other hand, the Greek anamnesis and its cognates, and the Hebrew zikkaron (זִכָּרוֹן),[14] which has the nearest meaning to anamnesis, are not common words in Scripture. Derivatives of zikkaron appear fifty-nine times in the Hebrew Scriptures, and its usage is most often connected to temple sacrifice.  Anamnesis and its cognates appear only nine times in the Septuagint, and in the New Testament, anamnesis and similar words are even rarer, with only seven appearances. The form found in 1 Corinithians 11:24-25, ἀνάμνησιν, occurs in only one instance in the New Testament outside of these two verses, in Luke’s account of the Last Supper (22:19). As Aelred Arnesen points out, the nominative case noun ἀνάμνησις occurs only once in the New Testament, in Hebrews 10:3,[15] and is also found only once in the Septuagint, in Numbers 10:10. In the latter case, the Israelites are told that their offerings and festivals “will serve as a reminder of” God’s perpetual presence in their midst. In the letter to the Hebrews, the limitation of the high-priestly sin offering compared to “the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all” (Heb 10:10) is stressed: “In those sacrifices there is only a yearly remembrance of sins” (v 3).

Arnesen assumes that the few incidences of the Greek ἀνάμνησιν and the Hebrew זִכָּרוֹן  and of their variants, as well as the range of meaning of these words when they do occur in Scripture, indicate that the Christian notion of anamnesis as “‘re-presenting’ before God an event in the past, so that it becomes here and now operative by its effects” is based on myth.[16] Citing C.F. Evans who, in his commentary on Luke’s Gospel, translates τουτο ποιειτε εἰς την ἐμην ἀνάμνησιν (Luke 22:19) as “do this [having] me in mind,” Arnesen argues that anamnesis in Scripture normally signifies mere recalling or having in mind of a past event.[17] Moreover, he writes, anamnesis understood as actualizing remembrance “cannot find any basis in either the semantics of the word or in the Semitic usage of the first century. Nor do the primordial rites of primitive societies have anything to say to Christian faith.”[18]

Arnesen’s argument has three major flaws. Firstly, his contention that, where ἀνάμνησις or זִכָּרוֹן appear in Scripture, these terms are restricted in meaning to “personal, mental remembrance,” is based on limited data. Arnesen quotes D.R. Jones, who writes that “too many ambiguities” exist in the meaning of ἀνάμνησις in the Septuagint in order to provide authority for any particular interpretation of New Testament passages” in which this term is employed.[19] Such ambiguities are unsurprising, owing to both the semantic range of ἀνάμνησις and זִכָּרוֹן and cognates and to the limited occurrence of these words themselves in the Bible. Statistically, Arnesen’s approach is poor; his sample size‒ the number of instances of ἀνάμνησις in Scripture‒ is too small to establish that the meaning of this term in the Bible is inconsistent. Arnesen’s resultant conclusion is incoherent: On one hand, he contends, following D.R. Jones, that the semantic range of ἀνάμνησις is too great to ascertain a consistent meaning of this word in Scripture. On the other hand, Arnesen has no difficulty concluding that ἀνάμνησις does not signify memory that actualizes past event, as per its dominant Christian significance.

A second flaw in Arnesen’s reasoning is that he links too closely the Christian notion of anamnesis with the doctrine of transubstantiation of the Eucharistic species promoted by Catholics and by some Anglicans. The transubstantiation of the bread and wine into Christ fully present in the sacramental species cannot and ought not to be localized to a single point in the Catholic Mass or Divine Liturgy, since the Eucharistic celebration as a whole is transubstantiative. Similarly, the entire Eucharistic celebration is anamnetic although, unlike transubstantiation, anamnesis may refer to a particular sequence of the Eucharistic prayer. In continuation of his misleading parallel between transubstantiation and anamnesis, Arnesen claims that, like the doctrine of transubstantiation, anamnesis in its Christian sense denigrates the sacramentality of the Eucharist. “The theory of anamnesis,” says Arnesen, “has a like subversive effect [to transubstantiation] in that it undermines resurrection faith in the living Lord who is always there before us and calls us to worship.”[20] On the contrary, if the Lord is understood to be “living” and “always… before us” in worship, then the Christian concept of anamnesis does not obscure the sacramentality of the Eucharist but supports it, as long as the entire sacramental celebration, as an encounter with the transcendent God in signs accessible to the senses, is understood as anamnetic.

This premise that the Eucharist is anamnetic in its essence also counters Arnesen’s objection that ritualized Eucharistic liturgy as actualized memory of salvation history is based on too literalistic an interpretation of Christ’s command: “Do this in remembrance of me” (1 Cor 11:24-25).[21] The third flaw in Arnesen’s reasoning is that, while he derides Christian anamnesis as myth and as proof-texting of the few direct Scriptural references to anamnesis such as 1 Corinthians 11:24-25, he is blind to the anamnetic character of the whole Eucharistic liturgy and indeed of the entire Biblical canon. Anamnesis in Christian liturgy does not depend on a literalistic application of the limited number of instances of this word in Scripture. Conversely, in Christianity as in Judaism, anamnesis is critical to understanding the significant encounters in history between humankind and God, for example the exodus from Egypt, the Passover, and the delivery from exile in Babylon for Jews and Christians alike, and Christ’s life, death, and resurrection‒ the re-actualization of the Passover‒ particularly for Christians. As for the objection by Arnesen and others against repeated commemoration of these past events, Julie Gittoes asserts that the act of making these events perpetually present in worship is necessarily repetitive. In ritualized worship, says Gittoes in agreement with Catherine Pickstock, Christians engage in “encounter [with] and response” to the Christ event that transforms believers individually and corporately as past story is lived in the continuous present.[22] Anamnesis is thus the dialectic between discrete and unique past events‒ the life, death, and resurrection of Christ‒ and the memorial proclamation of the Lord’s Pasch for always, “until he comes” (1 Cor 11:26).

Figures from different periods in Christian history such as Augustine of Hippo, Thomas Aquinas, and Thérèse of Lisieux add support to the Christian notion of anamnesis and its centrality in Eucharistic liturgy as described by Gittoes. In Augustine’s thought, anamnesis is especially critical to his reckoning of time. For Augustine, time is not comprehended as past, present, and future, but as continuous present. Says Gabriel R. Ricci: “The past and future are tethered” by Augustine “to a present without duration.”[23] This “eternalizing” of the present into “a present of things past, a present of things present, and a present of things future,”[24] which Ricci terms Augustine’s “historiographic anamnesis,” collapses “the three moments of time” into a single movement “of re-collected memory that is simultaneously institutive, constitutive, and re-combinative.”[25] Eric Voegelin takes Ricci’s description of Augustine’s historiographic anamnesis a step further. He notes that for Augustine, time, as experienced by human beings in the continuous present and open to eternity, also transforms humanity ontologically. Reflecting on Augustine’s De Trinitate,[26] Voegelin writes: “The rhetorical exuberance of Augustine can never find enough new expressions for the experience of a being that changes its form from being to eternity: ‘de forma en formam mutanturde forma obscura en formam lucidama deformi formam in formam formosam, and finally de forma fidei en formam speciei.’”[27]

Augustine’s notion of ontological change that is effected in one’s soul via anamnesis is highly dependent on Platonic doctrine of form and image. Thomas Aquinas maintains, like Augustine, that one is fundamentally changed by one’s relationship with God, whose past actions in history and anticipated actions are made present through remembrance and expectation, respectively. However, Aquinas severs the Platonic bonds of Augustinian ontology and metaphysics, in that the soul of a being, says Aquinas according to Voegelin, cannot mutate to take on another form. Ontological change, in the Thomistic sense, is when one essence is replaced by a new one, or when a supernatural form is added to a being’s natural form.[28] For Aquinas, memory that is proper to the intellect‒ that is, not merely of the senses‒ is that which brings past experience and future anticipation into the present. Only in the present, then, does the addition of grace to nature, therefore a change effected on the intellectual soul by its encounter with supernatural grace, take place.[29]

Anamnesis is thus at the core of Augustinian and then Thomistic ontology and metaphysics in patristic and medieval times, respectively. For Thérèse of Lisieux in late nineteenth-century France, anamnesis is the focal point of prayer and contemplation of the Eucharist. In her “Canticle for Today,” Thérèse speaks of the “living bread; bread of heaven; divine Eucharist… only for today.” In Theresian spirituality, Julie Gittoes writes, the Eucharist is the experience of Christ’s Paschal self-offering in the present. Even while living amid this “passing hour,” Thérèse experiences in the Eucharist a foreshadowing‒ a sacrament‒ of “the eternal today.”[30]

These historical examples from the works of Augustine, of Thomas Aquinas, and of Thérèse of Lisieux show the vital importance of anamnesis as present encounter with the past in Christian thought and experience. While I have noted that anamnesis understood as such is also key to Christian and, more narrowly, Catholic liturgy, I will now illustrate this significance of actualizing memory in the section of the Eucharistic Prayer named anamnesis in the strict sense, through a discussion of the current forms and origins of this section of the Eucharistic Prayer.

Paul F. Bradshaw traces the development of the anamnesis in the Eucharistic Prayer back to the ninth and tenth chapters of the Didache. These two chapters of this late first or early second-century C.E. work focus on the Eucharist, yet they do not mention the command of Jesus through Paul in 1 Corinthians 11:24-25: “Do this in remembrance of me.” In the Didache, the Eucharist is understood primarily as an act of thanksgiving. Chapter 9 of this document directs partakers in the Eucharist to “give thanks…First, concerning the cup… and [then] concerning the broken bread.”[31] This prayer, Bradshaw argues, is a more likely origin of the Eucharistic Prayers of the current Roman Rite than the Jewish Seder prayers. The Didache’s prayer of thanksgiving more closely parallels the Eucharistic Prayer as one to be recited before the Eucharist, whereas the prayers over food in Judaism were to be said after the Seder meal.[32] Chapter 10 contains a prayer of thanksgiving for God’s presence in salvation history‒ for having “[caused] to tabernacle in our hearts… for knowledge and faith and immortality,” for creation, and for “food and drink” first earthly and then spiritual‒ interspersed with doxology and ending in a prayer for deliverance of the Church from evil and for God to gather it “into [God’s] kingdom and for the Lord’s second coming: “Maranatha. Amen.”[33] This chapter includes no explicit reference to remembrance and, perhaps besides the exclamation, “Hosanna to the God (Son) of David”[34]‒ which is disputed as to whether it alludes specifically to the Son or simply to God as “vine of David,” with the latter view advanced by a majority of scholars including Bradshaw‒ makes no reference to Christ.[35]

A direct progression also cannot be drawn from the Didache to the Eucharistic prayer patterns of the Apostolic Constitutions. The latter text includes two distinct Eucharistic rites, one each in Books VII and VIII, which were unlikely to “have been current alongside one another in the same liturgical community.”[36] The second of these rites, which parallels a pattern from the Apostolic Tradition, is a short prayer of thanksgiving with no anamnesis. The rite in Book VII of the Apostolic Constitutions, though, is similar to that of the Didache 9-10, with a lengthy two-part anamnesis added to the centre of what had been the Didache’s post-Eucharistic prayer. The first of these parts, a “Christological anamnesis” as per Bradshaw, “recalls the incarnation, passion, resurrection, seating in glory, and hope for the eschaton.”[37] Both of these units link anamnesis with thanksgiving, but only in the second unit is anamnesis‒ Christ “commanded us to proclaim his death”‒ correlated with offering. This offering is not ours but that of Jesus’ “precious blood… poured out for us, and his precious body.”[38] However, this prayer does acknowledge our Eucharistic celebration as the “antitype” of Christ’s self-sacrifice.[39] Therefore, the relationship of elements of anamnesis and of sacrifice is novel in the Apostolic Constitutions in comparison to the Didache. Another significant difference between the Didache and the Apostolic Constitutions is the reversal of the sequence of anamnetic thanksgiving over the Eucharistic species, which is over the bread and then the wine in the Apostolic Constitutions, and in the opposite order in the Didache. The order in Book VII of the Apostolic Constitutions has been maintained in the institution narrative in the current Roman Missal.

Even more expanded anamneses than that in the Apostolic Constitutions are found in two Egyptian patristic documents, the Sacramentary of Sarapion and the Strasbourg Papyrus, which includes an early precursor to “the standard Eucharistic prayer of the Coptic Church, the Anaphora of St. Mark.”[40] Moreover, in both the Sacramentary of Sarapion and the Strasbourg Papyrus, the anamnesis is integrated with a prayer of offering. In the latter text, an elaborate theological anamnesis focused on creation‒ as opposed to the Christological anamnesis in the Apostolic Constitutions‒ shifts rapidly in its concluding sentences to doxology and then to offering: “You made everything through your wisdom… Your name is great among the nations, and in every place incense is offered to your holy name and a pure sacrifice. Over this sacrifice and offering we pray and beseech you, remember your holy and only Catholic Church…”[41] The link between anamnesis and offering in the Strasbourg Papyrus is found also in the Sacramentary of Sarapion, as is reference to the sacrifice of the body and blood as both that of Christ and, by participation, that of partakers in the Eucharist.[42] This form occurs most clearly in Eucharistic Prayer II of the current Roman Missal which, among post-Vatican II Eucharistic Prayers, most closely resembles Eucharistic prayer structures of the Apostolic Constitutions.

The addition of a Christological anamnesis in Book VII of the Apostolic Constitutions to Eucharistic prayers adopted especially from the Didache, along with similar prayer structures in the Strasbourg Papyrus and in the Sacramentary of Sarapion, show a trend toward expansion of Eucharistic prayers, and in particular their anamnesis units, from the second through the fourth century. Bradshaw, though, cautions that, despite this expansionary trend and like diction and imagery in and organization of these Eucharistic prayers, one ought not to assume that they had a common source. A more probable explanation, says Bradshaw, is that “shared features” of these texts, especially those “in common [also] with the Didache, arose from “common Eucharistic image[s] circulating independently” in the eastern Roman Empire and in North Africa than from “a literary adaptation of [one] particular text.”[43]

Furthermore, by the fourth century, the trend toward expansion of the anamnesis unit in the Roman East had been halted. For example, in the Egyptian Anaphora of St. Basil, still “used in the Coptic Church today”[44] yet unlikely to have been the provenance of St. Basil, the anamnesis has been collapsed into a single sentence. It bears little resemblance to the anamnesis of the Apostolic Constitutions Book VII, except for its rapid conclusion with a mention of our offering back to God what humankind has been offered in the Eucharistic species:

We, therefore, remembering [Christ’s] holy sufferings, and his resurrection from the dead, and his ascension into heaven, and his session at the right hand of the Father, and his glorious and fearful coming to us again, have set forth before you your own from your own gifts, this bread and this cup.[45]

The anamnesis in the Byzantine Liturgy of St. Basil, similarly to that of the Egyptian Anaphora of St. Basil, is also brief. The anaphora of the Byzantine Liturgy, according to R.C.D. Jasper and G.J. Cuming, is likely a late adaptation by the Cappadocian bishop of the Egyptian Anaphora, known as the Egyptian Basil. The hand of Basil in the Byzantine anaphora is attested by “Syriac and Armenian” translations of an intermediate text between its Egyptian and Byzantine versions. Basil’s intention in revising the Egyptian Anaphora was to add to it more references to Scripture. Consequently, even “the brief reference to creation in Egyptian Basil is… eliminated”[46] in the Byzantine Liturgy, wherein the anamnesis is much more succinct than that of the Egyptian text. Nonetheless, in the Byzantine Liturgy’s anamnesis, the Egyptian Basil’s focus on the Paschal mystery and swift transition to mention of offering are maintained.

The trend toward brevity in the anamnetic unit of liturgies that began prior to St. Basil’s time has reached a zenith in the post-Vatican II Roman Missal. The anamnesis in Eucharistic Prayer II, of the four regular Eucharistic Prayers the one that most closely resembles the form in the Apostolic Constitutions, is not even a full sentence long before it becomes a prayer of offering: “Therefore, as we celebrate the memorial of [Christ’s] death and resurrection, we offer you, Lord, the bread of life and the chalice of salvation.”[47] The anamnetic units of Eucharistic Prayers III and IV are more expansive than that in Eucharistic Prayer II, but still the anamnesis of all three prayers form less than a full sentence before their transition into offertory prayer. In Eucharistic Prayer IV, a proclamation of Christ’s resurrection and ascension, and of hope for “his coming in glory,”[48] is inserted between the anamnesis and the prayer of offering. This proclamation reprises the memorial acclamation of the paschal mystery and faith in the Lord’s second coming. Eucharistic Prayer I, unlike Eucharistic Prayers II, III, and IV, does not contain a single clear anamnetic unit. Enrico Mazza postulates that memorial whereby past encounters present pervades the Roman Canon, in order to emphasize that anamnesis is not “a conclusion or at least a consecutive proposition,” but the very “nature of the [Church’s] celebration,” grounded in Christ’s command, “Do this in memory of me.”[49]

This command, as Bruce T. Morrill and Margaret Scott point out, extends beyond Eucharistic celebration. Our memory of the Lord has social implications. Anamnesis, says Scott, is “living memory” that “who cares and forgives; who hears his people’s cry and does not let their brokenness and pain go on forever… who really does change death into life and overcome evil with good.”[50] Such memory of Christ’s “promise of presence”[51] to us, Morrill writes, is only possible if worship is grounded in solidarity with Christ poured out for us on the cross. Morrill criticizes much of contemporary liturgy that commemorates Christ risen while ignoring Christ crucified. Instead, following Johann Baptist Metz’s political theology, Morrill challenges contemporary Christians “to imitate” the kenosis of Christ on the cross, “by taking on the pattern of his selfless action on behalf of freedom for everyone, living and dead.”[52] The same Christ present in the Eucharist yearns to be present in those who participate in the Eucharist, in acts of solidarity with the suffering and with the dying. Solidarity, with its imperative to liberate as God liberates from suffering and death, is the link between Eucharistic liturgy and the liturgy of a life of social responsibility. Only thus, says Morrill, the Christian proclaims through living and perpetually present memory “the death of the Lord until he comes.”[53]

Anamnesis is not therefore restricted to worship, or to a particular part of the Eucharistic celebration. The succinct summary of the paschal mystery and statement of eschatological hope that bears the technical name of anamnesis serves to focus the entire Eucharistic celebration, which is essentially anamnetic. I have shown in this paper, with reference to key historical figures in Christianity, this anamnetic character of Christian and, in particular, Roman Catholic liturgy. While the term anamnesis and the related Hebrew word zikkaron are rare in Scripture, the Biblical canon, which grounds Christian and, in the case of the Old Testament, also Jewish faith, is also anamnetic at its core. Pre-Christian and non-religious notions of anamnesis approach the Christian understanding of anamnesis to varying degrees, and also serve to show the development toward the Christian sense of anamnesis as living and actualizing memory.

[1] ἀνάμνησις, in The New Analytical Greek Lexicon, ed. Wesley J. Perschbacher (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1990), 23.

[2] Dennis C. Smolarski, Liturgical Literacy: From Anamnesis to Worship (New York, NY/Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1990), 11.

[3] Bruce T. Morrill, Anamnesis as Dangerous Memory: Political and Liturgical Theology in Dialogue (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 2000), 177.

[4] R.E. Allen, “Anamnesis in Plato’s Meno and Phaedo,” The Review of Metaphysics 13, no. 1 (September 1959): 165.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Frederick Maxwell Schroeder, Form and Transformation: A Study in the Philosophy of Plotinus (Montreal, QC: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1992), 56-57.

[7] Laurence Dahan-Gaida, “Présentation,” in Mémoire, savoir, innovation, ed. Yves Abrioux et al. (Saint-Denis, FR: Presses Universitaires de Vinciennes, 2009), 8-10.

[8] Smolarski, Liturgical Literacy, 10.

[9] Bishops’ Committee on the Liturgy, National Conference of Catholic Bishops, “God’s Mercy Endures Forever: Guidelines on the Presentation of Jews and Judaism in Catholic Preaching,” in The Jewish Roots of Christian Liturgy, ed. Eugene J. Fisher (New York, NY/Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1990), 184.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Smolarski, Liturgical Literacy, 11.

[12] Bishops’ Committee on the Liturgy, “God’s Mercy Endures Forever,” 184.

[13] “Eucharistic Prayer IV,” in The Roman Missal (Ottawa, ON: Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2011), 635.

[14] Strong’s Concordance, “Zikkaron: Memorial, Remembrance (זִכָּרוֹן).” http://concordances.org/ hebrew/2146.htm. Accessed 10 April 2012.

[15] Aelred Arnesen, “The Myth of Anamnesis,” Theology 105, no. 6 (November 2002): 436-437.

[16] Ibid., 436.

[17] Ibid.

[18] Ibid., 439.

[19] Ibid., 436.

[20] Ibid., 439.

[21] Ibid., 436.

[22] Julie Gittoes, Anamnesis and the Eucharist: Contemporary Anglican Approaches (Aldershot UK/Burlington VT: Ashgate Publishing Limited, 2008), 94.

[23] Gabriel R. Ricci, Time Consciousness: The Philosophical Uses of History (New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers, 2002), 70.

[24] Augustine, Confessions XI.20.

[25] Ricci, Time Consciousness, 70.

[26] Augustine, De Trinitate XV.8.14. http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/130115.htm. Accessed 12 April 2012.

[27] Eric Voegelin, Anamnesis (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1978), 73.

[28] Ibid.

[29] Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae I.79.6. http://www.newadvent.org/summa/1079.htm. Accessed 12 April 2012.

[30] Thérèse de Lisieux, “Mon Chant d’Aujourd’hui,” in Oeuvres Complètes (Paris: Les Éditions du Cerf, 2006), 645-646. Translations from French are mine.

[31] Early Christian Writings, “Didache,” Chapter 9. http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/didache-roberts.html. Accessed 12 April 2012.

[32] Paul F. Bradshaw, Eucharistic Origins (Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press, 2004), 116.

[33] Early Christian Writings, “Didache,” Chapter 10. http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/didache-roberts.html. Accessed 12 April 2012.

[34] Ibid.

[35] Bradshaw, Eucharistic Origins, 117.

[36] Ibid.

[37] Ibid.

[38] Apostolic Constitutions 7.25, quoted in Bradshaw, Eucharistic Origins, 118.

[39] Ibid.

[40] Paul F. Bradshaw, Early Christian Worship: A Basic Introduction to Ideas and Practice, 2nd ed. (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2010), 52.

[41] Ibid.

[42] Bradshaw, Eucharistic Origins, 118-119.

[43] Ibid., 121.

[44] R.C.D. Jasper and C.J. Cuming, “The Egyptian Anaphora of St. Basil,” in Prayers of the Eucharist: Early and Reformed, 3rd ed. (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1990), 67.

[45] Ibid., 71.

[46] R.C.D. Jasper and C.J. Cuming, “The Byzantine Liturgy of St. Basil,” in Prayers of the Eucharist: Early and Reformed, 3rd ed. (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1990), 114.

[47] “Eucharistic Prayer II,” in The Roman Missal, 624.

[48] “Eucharistic Prayer II,” in The Roman Missal, 638.

[49] Enrico Mazza, The Eucharistic Prayers of the Roman Rite (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1986), 75.

[50] Margaret Scott, The Eucharist and Social Justice (New York, NY/Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press), 69.

[51] Morrill, Anamnesis as Dangerous Memory, 34.

[52] Ibid., 34.

[53] Ibid., 179.

This essay was originally submitted for the course Introduction to Liturgy, SMT2402 HS, at the University of St. Michael’s College, Toronto, Canada, on 17 April 2012.


 Allen, R.E. “Anamnesis in Plato’s Meno and Phaedo.” The Review of Metaphysics 13, no. 1 (September 1959): 165-174.

ἀνάμνησις. In The New Analytical Greek Lexicon, edited by Wesley J. Perschbacher, 23. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1990.

Arnesen, Aelred. “The Myth of Anamnesis.” Theology 105, no. 6 (November 2002): 436-437.

Apostolic Constitutions.” http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/07157.htm. Accessed 13 April 2012.

Augustine. Confessions.

            . De Trinitate XV.8. http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/130115.htm. Accessed 12 April 2012.

Bishops’ Committee on the Liturgy, National Conference of Catholic Bishops, “God’s Mercy Endures Forever: Guidelines on the Presentation of Jews and Judaism in Catholic Preaching.” In The Jewish Roots of Christian Liturgy, edited by Eugene J. Fisher, 180-196. New York, NY/Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1990.

Bradshaw, Paul F. Eucharistic Origins. Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press, 2004.

            . Early Christian Worship: A Basic Introduction to Ideas and Practice. 2nd ed. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2010.

Dahan-Gaida, Laurence. “Présentation.” In Mémoire, savoir, innovation, edited by Yves Abrioux et al., 5-15. Saint-Denis, FR: Presses Universitaires de Vinciennes, 2009.

Early Christian Writings. “Didache.” http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/didache-roberts.html. Accessed 12 April 2012.

Gittoes, Julie. Anamnesis and the Eucharist: Contemporary Anglican Approaches. Aldershot UK/Burlington VT: Ashgate Publishing Limited, 2008.

Jasper, R.C.D., and C.J. Cuming. Prayers of the Eucharist: Early and Reformed, 3rd ed. Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1990.

Mazza, Enrico. The Eucharistic Prayers of the Roman Rite. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1986.

Morrill, Bruce T. Anamnesis as Dangerous Memory. Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 2000.

New American Bible.

Ricci, Gabriel R. Time Consciousness: The Philosophical Uses of History. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers, 2002.

 Roman Missal, The. Ottawa, ON: Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2011.

Schroeder, Frederick Maxwell. Form and Transformation: A Study in the Philosophy of Plotinus. Montreal, QC: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1992.

Second Vatican Council. “Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium.” http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_const_19631204_sacrosanctum-concilium_en.html. Accessed 14 April 2012.

Smolarski, Dennis C. Liturgical Literacy: From Anamnesis to Worship. New York, NY/Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1990.

Strong’s Concordance. “Zikkaron: Memorial, Remembrance (זִכָּרוֹן).” http://concordances.org/ hebrew/2146.htm. Accessed 10 April 2012.

Thérèse de Lisieux. “Mon Chant d’Aujourd’hui.” In Oeuvres Complètes, 645-646. Paris: Les Éditions du Cerf, 2006.

Thomas Aquinas. Summa Theologiae I.79.6. http://www.newadvent.org/summa/1079.htm. Accessed 12 April 2012.

Plato. “Meno,” translated by Benjamin Jowett. http://classics.mit.edu/Plato/meno.html. Accessed 10 April 2012.

Voegelin, Eric. Anamnesis. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1978.

Westcott and Hort Greek New Testament.

A Brief, Prayerful Announcement– Reflection for Mass of March 25, 2011– Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord

25 Mar


Friday, March 25, 2011
Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord
Readings: Isaiah 7:10-14, 8-10; Psalm 40: 7-10; Hebrews 10:4-10; Luke 1:26-38

…And now, a brief announcement… “The Holy Spirit [has] come upon [us], and the power of the Most High [overshadows us].”[1] Nine months from today, we will celebrate Jesus’ Nativity, but the process of our bearing Christ into our world begins now, as we celebrate this Solemnity of the Annunciation of our Lord. We are urged, then, to begin, if we have not already begun, to be converted and to open our hearts and minds to renewal, to be better disposed to do the will of God… End of announcement.

Looking over my notes for the Liturgical Presiding practicum, I saw that our class had been told clearly about proper brevity and placement of announcements within the order of the Mass. Announcements are to be made where a natural break occurs within the Mass, for instance between the reception of Communion and the Concluding Rites, so as not to be disruptive to the flow of the liturgy.[2]

Amid our activities outside of the Mass, although in a different way than at Mass, announcements can be timely and humourous, thought-provoking, or even inspiring. For example, a creative television commercial may make one laugh or be likely to buy a product or adopt a lifestyle change. More deeply, the expected birth of a child within a family, announced during a family dinner, is a message of remarkable beauty.

However, many announcements are ill-timed, too long, repetitive, or disruptive, whether within or outside of Mass. Let us return to the examples of the television commercial and the pregnancy announcement. Some commercials are effective by their repetition in moving us to buy the products advertised, yet I detest seeing the same commercial multiple times in a row, unless it is a profoundly creative use of thirty seconds. Such a recurrent announcement is disruptive to whatever show I am trying to watch.

How might the announcement of an impending birth of a child be as disruptive, albeit in a different way, as the repetitious or dull television commercial? Today’s Gospel, I think, answers that question. I imagined upon re-reading Luke’s infancy narrative that I had been given the role of evaluating the Angel Gabriel’s technique in Liturgical Presiding. I do indeed have a similar assignment for the class I am in; for it I took notes on last Sunday’s Mass at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Parish in Sherwood Park, Alberta, Canada. The presider was not an angel.

If Gabriel were not an angel and if this were a Mass, the little Pharisee in me concerned with liturgical rubrics would have had a lot to say. In class, we are reminded not to begin Mass with a secular greeting in place of a “sacred” one, and thus to begin in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and then “The Lord be with you.”[3] Poor Gabriel gets off to a bad start here: “Hail, full of grace.”[4] The Greek imperative Χαῖρε, which we read as “Hail,” can also mean “Rejoice” or a simple, underwhelming “Hello!”[5] No wonder Mary found Gabriel’s salutation disconcerting! Then Gabriel proceeds to make a verbose and unfocused announcement. He not only tells Mary that she will bear a child, but that the barren Elizabeth will as well.[6] Then Gabriel simply departs from the scene.[7] If I had been in Mary’s place, I, like her, would have been “greatly perplexed.”[8] Herein, though, lies the success of Gabriel’s announcement: It allows for Mary’s participation in the narrative, much as the participation of the People of God during Mass contributes to good liturgy.

Mary’s fiat– her faithful “Here am I,”[9] which does not replace her perplexity at her conception of God made human but overcomes it– is an announcement in itself. In fact, her announcement is the most important one of today’s Gospel reading. Let it be our announcement, too, then, for it is appropriate at all times and at any time. And now, our brief, prayerful, announcement: “Here [are we], the servant[s] of the Lord, let it be done to [us] according to your word.”[10]


[1] Luke 1:35

[2] “Eucharistic Liturgy.” Course notes handout, Liturgical Presiding, SMP 3165 HS (Toronto: University of St. Michael’s College, 23 January 2011).

[3] Dennis C. Smolarski, How Not to Say Mass: A Guidebook on Liturgical Principles and the Roman Missal, 2nd ed. (New York, NY/ Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2003), 51.

[4] Luke 1:28. The Greek Χαῖρε, κεχαριτωμένη (Hi’-reh, keh-cha-ri-tō-meh’-nay) literally translates as “Hail, [woman] being (or, who is) made graceful.” See also The Greek Bible, http://www.greekbible.com/index.php.  Accessed 23 March 2011. Search for Luke 1:28, then click on the word κεχαριτωμένη to open the lexical entry for the verb χαριτόω, “I make graceful.”

[5] The Greek Bible, entry on the verb χαίρω. http://www.greekbible.com/l.php?xai/rw_v-2pad-s–_p. Accessed 23 March 2011. This word appeared on an exam in the New Testament Greek course I am taking, as part of a multiple choice question, “God revealed himself to Moses on Mt. Horeb (Exodus 3:14) in the Septuagint (The Greek translation of the Old Testament) as…” The correct answer (in Greek, from the Septuagint) is Εἱμι ὁ ὠν (“Amy ha own,” meaning “I am the one being” or more eloquently, “I am the one who is.” One of the incorrect choices, which was good for a few laughs in class, was Χαῖρε, το ὀνομα μοι Θεος ἐστίν (Hi’-reh, tah ah’-nah-mah moy thay-ahs’ es-tin’), which means in this context, “Hello, my name is God.”

[6] Luke 1:31, 36.

[7] Luke 1:38

[8] Luke 1:29

[9] Luke 1:38

[10] Ibid.