Formula Missae

Music of the Reformation

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The reforms in music which attended the reform of worship in the Reformation ranged widely from the rejection of all instruments and the restriction of singing solely to the Psalms to the choral Eucharists of the Anglicans.

Christian Worship in the Reformation

During the Middle Ages, worship had developed into an elaborate ritual which evidenced serious distortions of apostolic standards, according to the Reformers, in both theology and practice. The following five developments were especially troubling to the Reformers.

(1) The Liturgy of the Word had little significance. Although provision was made for Scripture reading and a homily in the vernacular, a sermon was rarely heard since most local priests were too illiterate to be capable of preaching.

(2) Typical worshipers understood little of what was being said or sung since the service was in Latin. Their own vocal participation was almost nonexistent.

(3) The Eucharist was no longer a joyful action of the whole congregation; it had become the priestly function of the celebrant alone. The congregation’s devotion (mixed with superstition) was focused on the host (the bread) itself, on seeing the offering of the sacrifice, or on private prayers (e.g., the rosary).

(4) Each celebration of the Mass was regarded as a separate offering of the body and blood of Christ. The emphasis was limited to Christ’s death, with scant remembrance of his resurrection and second coming. Furthermore, the custom of offering votive masses for particular individuals and purposes became common.

(5) The Roman Canon was not a prayer of thanksgiving, but rather a long petition that voiced repeated pleas that God would receive the offering of the Mass, generating a spirit of fear lest it not be accepted. As a result, most of the congregation took Communion only once a year. On many occasions, only the officiating priests received the bread and the cup.

Our look at the worship of the Reformation churches will include a consideration of the German, English, and French-Swiss traditions. However, none of these was the first expression of rebellion against Rome. The Unitas Fratrum (United Brethren), which began under John Hus in Bohemia, had its own liturgical and musical expressions. However, the reforms that were begun in this movement were aborted because of the death of Hus, who was burned at the stake in 1415.

The Lutheran Reformation

Martin Luther’s quarrel with Rome had more to do with the sacerdotal interpretation of the Mass and the resultant abuses which accompanied it than with the structure of the liturgy itself. For him, the Communion service was a sacrament (God’s grace extended to man). A musician himself, he loved the great music and the Latin text which graced the mass. Consequently, in his first reformed liturgy—Formula missae et communionis (1523)—much of the historic mass outline remains. Luther (1483–1546) is remembered as the individual who gave the German people the Bible and the hymnbook in their own language in order to recover the doctrine of believer-priesthood. He also restored the sermon to its central place in the Liturgy of the Word. But in the Formula missae, only the hymns, Scripture readings, and sermons were in the vernacular; the rest continued to be in Latin. He achieved his theological purposes relating to the communion by removing many acts of the Liturgy. All that remained were the Preface and the Words of Institution.

The German Mass (Deutscher messe, 1526) was more drastic in its iconoclasm and may have been encouraged by some of Luther’s more radical associates. In it, many of the historic Latin songs were replaced by vernacular hymn versions set to German folksong melodies.

Throughout the sixteenth century, most Lutheran worship used a variant of the Western liturgy. The Formula missae was the norm for cathedrals and collegiate churches, and the German Mass was common in smaller towns and rural churches. Twentieth-century Lutherans tend to agree that Luther was excessively ruthless in the excisions made in the Communion service. Consequently, in recent service orders, they have recovered much of the pattern and texts of the third and fourth-century eucharistic prayers, while still retaining their Reformational and Lutheran theological emphasis.

We have already mentioned Luther’s love of the historic music of the church. In the Formula missae, the choir sang the traditional psalms, songs, and prayers in Latin to Gregorian chant or in polyphonic settings. They also functioned in leading the congregation in the new unaccompanied chorales. Later, they sang alternate stanzas of the chorales in four- and five-part settings by Johann Walther, published in 1524 in the Church Chorale Book. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the choir made significant new contributions to worship in the singing of motets, passions, and cantatas.

The treble parts of the choral music were sung by boys who were trained in the “Latin” (parochial and cathedral) schools. The lower parts were sung by Latin school “alumni” or by members of the Kantorei—a voluntary social-musical organization that placed its services at the disposal of the church. Where there was no choir, the congregation was led by a “cantor.” That title, meaning “chief singer,” was also given to a musical director of large churches such as J. S. Bach, whose career culminated with service to churches in Leipzig from 1723 to 1750.

Luther seems to have been indifferent to (and occasionally critical of) the organ in divine worship, as were most Roman Catholic leaders of that period. As in the Roman church, the organ gave “intonations” for the unaccompanied liturgical singing and also continued the alternatim practice in the chorales. The “intonation” for the congregational chorales developed into what we know as a “chorale prelude.” Later, as composing techniques moved toward homophonic styles with the melody in the soprano, the organ took over the responsibility of leading the congregation in the chorales.

Luther felt that the multiple services of the medieval offices had become an “intolerable burden.” Since monasteries had been abolished, he prescribed that only the most significant morning and evening “hours”—Matins and Vespers—would be observed daily in local churches. However, office worship never really caught on among Lutherans. The practice soon died out and has only recently been revived, with moderate success. For non-eucharistic worship, Luther’s followers have preferred a shortened Mass called an “ante-Communion,” which simply omits the Lord’s Supper observance from the regular liturgy.

The Reformation in England

The early impetus for the Reformation in England was more political than spiritual. This was partly evident in the fact that for years after Henry VIII broke with the pope (1534) and assumed himself the leadership of the English (Anglican) church, the Latin Roman Mass continued to be used without change. However, during the ensuing years, evangelical thought became more widespread and after Henry’s death in 1547, Archbishop Cranmer (1489–1556) set about to devise a truly reformed English liturgy.

The first Book of Common Prayer was released in 1549, the title (“common”) indicating that worship was now to be congregational. This vernacular Mass retained much of the form of the Roman rite, with drastic revision only in the Canon (eucharistic prayer), because of the rejection of the concepts of transubstantiation and sacrifice. A significant number of Anglicans (especially Anglo-Catholics) still express regret that this rite never became the norm for the Church of England. As was true in Lutheran Germany, popular opinion seemed to demand even more drastic revision, and three years later another prayer book was published. Much of the influence for the more radical trend came from the Calvinist movement in Strasbourg and Geneva.

In the Prayer Book of 1552, the word Mass was dropped as the title of the worship form, vestments were forbidden, and altars were replaced by Communion tables. The Agnus Dei, the Benedictus, and the Peace were all excised from the liturgy, and the Gloria in excelsis Deo was placed near the end of the service. Thus the beginning of the ritual became basically personal and penitential, losing the corporate expression of praise and thanksgiving. The introit, gradual, offertory song, and Communion song were replaced by congregational psalms in metrical versions and later by hymns. In comparison with the “Liturgy of the Eucharist” that Roman Catholics used c. 1500, the greatest difference lies in the very-much shortened eucharistic prayer.

During the brief reign of “Bloody Mary” (1553–1558), the Roman Catholic faith and worship were reinstated, and many Protestant leaders were burned at the stake or beheaded. Others fled to such European refuges as Frankfort and Geneva, where they came under the influence of John Calvin and John Knox. When they returned to their native country, they brought with them an even more radical revisionist attitude that eventually showed itself in the Puritan movement within the Church of England and the emerging of Nonconformist churches (Presbyterian, Independent, and Baptist). With the death of Mary, Queen Elizabeth I sought to heal the wounds of her broken country and to bring papists, traditionalists, and Puritans together. Under her leadership, the prayer book was revised in 1559. Some worship practices found in the 1549 version were restored, though the changes were slight. Vestments, for example, were once again permitted.

The Puritan movement gathered increasing momentum during the close of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century. In worship, its emphasis was on “scriptural simplicity”—no choral or instrumental music, no written liturgy, and no symbolism (vestment, liturgical movement, etc.), much after the pattern of John Calvin’s Geneva. Eventually, the group developed enough political strength to overthrow the king and set up a republic. In 1645 the Prayer Book was replaced by the Directory for the Plain Worship of God in the Three Kingdoms. For a brief period, the choral and instrumental worship of the church went into complete limbo.

In 1660 Charles II was placed on the throne. He immediately brought the prayer book back into use. Soon a new revision (1662) was brought out; it made no substantial changes in the old version, retaining basically the 1552 worship outline, and that book became the norm for the Church of England for the next 300 years. It remains basically the same today, though there is considerable sentiment for a thorough revision.

We have already noted Luther’s purpose pertaining to the continuance of the two “offices” Matins and Vespers as public, daily services of non-eucharistic worship. This practice was also adopted by Archbishop Cranmer for the English church, and liturgies for these services appeared in each of the prayer books mentioned above. As in the old Roman tradition, the emphasis was on the reading and singing of Scripture; the Psalter was to be sung through each month, the Old Testament read through each year, and the New Testament twice each year. In making this service completely “English,” the revisions of 1552 and 1662 had changed the titles of the services to “Morning Prayer” and “Evening Prayer,” placed a general confession and absolution (assurance of pardon) at the beginning, added the Jubilate Deo (Psalm 100) as a regular canticle plus an anthem, with four collects and a general thanksgiving as the prayers. In common practice, a sermon is also included, and this service has been for many Anglicans the “preferred” option for typical Sunday worship.

The 1549 Prayer Book had stressed the requirement that Communion was not to be celebrated unless communicants were present and participating, and specified that members in good standing would receive Communion at least three times a year. The 1552 prayer book indicated that “ante-Communion”—the same service but omitting the eucharistic prayer and Communion—would also be observed on Sundays and “holy days.” Because, like Lutherans, most Anglicans retained the medieval sense of awe and fear in receiving Communion, non-eucharistic services tended to be the most popular in Anglican worship until recent times.

We have already noted that congregational hymns became the norm of Protestant musical worship under Luther. In the early development of the English reformation church, this possibility was considered, and Bishop Myles Coverdale made an English translation of certain German and Latin hymns together with metrical versions of psalms and other liturgical material in a volume Goostly psalms and spiritual songs (1543), intended for use in private chapels and homes. But, eventually, the Lutheran example was rejected in favor of the Calvinist standard—metrical psalms. In 1549, a Thomas Sternhold, the robe-keeper to Henry VIII (Albert E. Bailey, The Gospel in Hymns [New York: Scribner, 1950], 7) published a small collection of nineteen psalms without music. By 1562, with the help of J. Hopkins, Sternhold completed the entire Psalter, which was named for its compilers. “Sternhold and Hopkins” remained in use (along with others) for more than two hundred years.

Psalm singing received added impetus during the exile of English Protestants in Geneva during the reign of Mary, Queen of Scots. There they produced a number of versions of the Anglo-Genevan Psalter, with tunes, beginning in 1556. This book was based on Sternhold and Hopkins with certain additions of texts (and especially tunes) from the French psalters of Calvin. In the early eighteenth century, English Nonconformists began to write and sing psalm paraphrases and “hymns of human composure,” beginning with Isaac Watts (1674–1748). But free hymns were not widely accepted in Anglicanism until well into the nineteenth century.

Particularly in the services of morning and evening prayer, the Psalms were regularly sung in prose version; this was also true of the Canticles (Benedictus, Te Deum, Magnificat, Nunc Dimittis). For this purpose, in the seventeenth century a new “Anglican chant” was produced, based on small snatches of Gregorian melody and sung in four-part harmony.

Despite its rejection of Luther’s hymns, the English church followed the example of the Lutherans in adapting the choir to its new Protestant patterns, particularly in the “cathedral tradition.” From almost the beginning of Anglicanism, the choir was retained to lead the congregation, but also to sing alone, as in a Choral Eucharist. In the sixteenth century, the Tudor composers who had produced Latin masses (e.g., William Byrd, John Merbecke, Thomas Tallis, Richard Farrant) began to set portions of the new prayer book services. A complete “service” included music for Holy Communion as well as for the canticles of morning and evening prayer. Anglican services have been written by British (and other) composers in every generation. These services are not performed in their entirety in one service as is the Latin mass, but they are published together for liturgical use in larger Anglican (including Episcopalian) churches.

In addition, the Anglican heritage made a unique contribution to church music in the anthem—originally an English motet, whose name is derived from “antiphon.” So-called anthems existed before 1550, but they remained in disfavor until the Restoration. In the prayer book of 1662, they are acknowledged to be a regular part of worship in churches that boasted a choir.

In the English tradition, it may be said that provision is made for a wide variety of musical tastes. In the parish church, congregational singing is central even though a modest choir may in some instances be available to sing an anthem and to lead the hymns and chants. In the cathedral setting, certain services are essentially choral, with less congregational participation. These services give the opportunity for the very finest examples of choral art to be used.

Both Anglicans and Lutherans continued to observe the liturgical calendar with its festivals and holy days. In both the eucharistic services and the offices, the “Ordinary” remained fairly constant throughout the year. The “Propers” provided Scripture readings, prayers, responses, and “sermon emphases” which changed according to the season and the day involved.

Worship in the Calvinist Tradition

In Reformation times, the most severe reaction to traditional Roman Catholic worship came in the Calvinist tradition; for this reason, it is closely related to modern evangelical practice. But first, we must look briefly at some of John Calvin’s predecessors.

Ulrich Zwingli (1484–1531), whose reform leadership centered in Zurich, was more of a rationalist-humanist than Luther or Calvin, both of whom shared the medieval scholastic tradition. Consequently, Zwinglian worship tended to be more didactic than devotional. His typical morning service resembled the ancient Prone liturgy, consisting of Scripture reading (Epistle and Gospel), preaching, and a long prayer. In the first German liturgy of 1525, music was eliminated completely (although Zwingli himself was an accomplished musician); however, psalms and canticles were recited responsively. The Communion service was celebrated four times a year, with the congregation seated as for a family meal. The Eucharist service had no true eucharistic prayer and no prayer of intercession; it consisted of an exhortation, “Fencing of the Table,” the Lord’s Prayer, the prayer of “humble access,” words of institution, ministers’ Communion, Communion of the people, psalm, collect, Dismissal. According to Zwingli, the Eucharist was only “the congregation confessing its faith in obedience to our Lord’s command.”

Martin Bucer (1491–1551), a follower of Zwingli, developed quite a different tradition when he was put in charge of Reformed worship in Strasbourg in 1535. Prior to that time, the city had been dominated by Lutheranism. Consequently, Bucer’s liturgy of 1537 seems to combine Lutheran and Zwinglian elements. He retained the optional Kyrie and Gloria in Excelsis, though in time these were replaced by psalms or hymns. The Communion service included intercessions as well as a Prayer of Consecration.

When John Calvin (1509–1564) first preached and taught at Geneva, he evidently followed no set form of worship, and the service was entirely without music. When he was banished from Geneva in 1538, he went to be pastor of the French exiles in Strasbourg. He was quite impressed with Bucer’s German rite and, according to his own admission, “borrowed the greater part of it” for his own French liturgy of 1540. Later when he returned to Geneva, this liturgy was simplified slightly, becoming the Geneva rite of 1542 and the basis for Calvinist worship in all of Europe—Switzerland, France, Germany, Netherlands, and Scotland.

The medieval eucharistic vestments were discarded. (The traditional black cassock now worn by Presbyterian ministers is essentially a reminder that Calvin preached in his overcoat because the cathedral at Geneva was unheated!) Indeed, all the traditional Roman symbolism was stripped from the building. A Calvinist “processional” (particularly in Scotland) is headed by a deacon carrying the Bible into the sanctuary to place it on the pulpit. Calvin ignored the church calendar (except for the principal feast days) and with it the lectionary of readings. The Scripture was read-only to serve as a basis for the sermon.

Calvin’s ideas about the Eucharist were not radically different from those of Luther, though he rejected the idea of “consubstantiation.” He too saw the Eucharist as a sacrament and desired that it would be celebrated weekly as part of a full service of Word and Eucharist. But this was not to be, because many of the French Reformed leaders (including the magistrates at Geneva) had a more narrow view of Communion. Indeed, they restricted its observance to four times a year, despite Calvin’s persistent objections.

Calvin is most frequently criticized for his actions restricting music in worship. He discarded the choir and its literature completely, and Calvinist iconoclasts removed the organs from the formerly Catholic churches. As mentioned earlier, worship in Geneva had no singing at all, and Calvin complained about the resultant “cold tone” in the services. When he went to Strasbourg, he was pleased with the German Psalm versions he found in the congregations there, whereupon he set several Psalms himself in metrical French to tunes of Mattheus Greiter and Wolfgang Dachstein. These were included with his Strasbourg service book, The Form of Prayers and Manner of Ministering the Sacraments According to the Use of the Ancient Church (1640).

Later he commissioned the French court poet Clement Marot to set all the Psalms in meter, which resulted in the historic Genevan Psalter (1562). The Psalms were sung by the congregation in unison and without accompaniment. (Four-part settings of the Marot Psalms were composed by Sweelinck, Jannequin, and Goudimel, but they were heard only in the home and in educational circles.) Music editor for the volume was Louis Bourgeois (c. 1510–c. 1561), who adapted tunes from French and German secular sources and no doubt composed some himself.

This is not the place to debate Calvin’s decision for the Psalms and against hymns, in the light of his dictum “Only God’s Word is worthy to be used in God’s praise.” No doubt he was reacting strongly to the complex, verbose Roman liturgy, with its many “tropes” and “sequence” hymns. He did not have all the writings of the early church fathers at his disposal, from which he might have learned the significance of the New Testament “hymns and spiritual songs” (which in the early patristic period were not part of the biblical canon) and of the successors of those forms in the early church. The Calvinist tradition of singing Psalms was also inherited by the Anglican church and by early free churches in both England and America. It has persisted in some places to the present day.

Worship in the Free Church Tradition

In the closing years of the sixteenth century, the passion for religious reform was most intense in the most radical of the English Puritans. They are known historically as the Separatists since they intended to part company with the established Anglican church. When they did so, they were more iconoclastic than Calvin himself, reducing worship to something less than the essentials! They rejected all established liturgical forms. When they met together (in barns, in forests and fields, or in houses on back alleys, as such gatherings were forbidden by law), their services included only prayer and the exposition of Scripture. Prayer was always spontaneous; not even the Lord’s Prayer was used, since it was considered to be only a model for Christian improvising.

The early Separatists evidently had no music, but eventually, they began to sing unaccompanied metrical psalms. When it was possible for them to celebrate Communion, the appointed pastor broke the bread and delivered the cup, which was then passed to every member of the group while the leader repeated the words of 1 Corinthians 11:23–26. There is also a record that on such occasions an offering was received at the end of the service, by men who held their “hats in hand.”

The Separatists followed several traditions under a number of dynamic leaders, and eventually formed the churches known as Presbyterian, Independent (Congregational), and Baptist. Their negative attitude about earlier music is expressed in a quote from John Vicar in 1649, who was speaking as a convinced Puritan, but still an Anglican: … the most rare and strange alteration of things in the Cathedral Church of Westminster. Namely, that whereas there was wont to be heard nothing almost by Roaring-Boys, tooting and squeaking Organ Pipes, and the Cathedral catches of Moreley, and I know not what trash, now the Popish Altar is quite taken away, the bellowing organs are demolished and pull’d down; the treble or rather trouble and base singers, Chanters or Inchanters, driven out, and instead thereof, there is now a most blessed Orthodox Preaching Ministry, even every morning throughout the Week, and every Week throughout the year a Sermon Preached by the most learned grace and godly Ministers.

Anabaptists (“re-baptizers,” who insisted that baptism was only for adult believers) appeared both on the Continent and in Great Britain in the late sixteenth century. Records of a group in Holland in 1608 indicate that a typical service consisted of the following.

• Prayer
• Scripture (one or two chapters, with a running commentary on its meaning)
• Prayer
• Sermon (one hour, on a text)
• Spoken contributions by others present (as many as would)
• Prayer (led by the principal leader)
• Offering

It is not surprising that such a service often lasted as long as four hours. Sunday worship ran from about 8 a.m. to noon, and again from 2 p.m. to 5 or 6 p.m. (See Horton Davies, Worship and Theology in England, vol. 2 [Princeton: Princeton University, 1975], 89)

English Baptists were by no means of one mind theologically. They divided into General Baptists (more Arminian in theology), Calvinistic Baptists (John Bunyan belonged to this group), Seventh-day Baptists (who worshiped on Saturday), and Particular Baptist (radically Calvinist). For all of them, the typical worship consisted of the ministry of the Word (reading and exposition), extemporized prayer (lengthy—no collects) with a congregational “amen,” and possibly metrical psalms sung to open and to close the service.

There is evidence that in some churches the only music was sung by a single individual “who had a special gift.” John Bunyan once argued that open congregational singing could not fulfill the standard of Colossians 3:16 because some might participate who did not have “grace in the heart.” As late as 1690, Benjamin Keach (1640–1704) had difficulty persuading his own congregation to sing in unison. However, he did prevail, and it is said that he was the first to introduce hymns (in addition to psalms) to an English congregation. He wrote the first hymn to be sung at the conclusion of the Lord’s Supper, “following the example of Christ and his disciples in the upper room.” Beyond this, we have little indication of how Baptists celebrated Communion, except, ironically, that it was a weekly occurrence.

Evangelicals are in large part the successors of the Separatist movement, and in many instances have inherited the anti-Romanist, anti-liturgical, and anti-aesthetic attitudes of their forebears. It may help one understand why these prejudices are so deeply ingrained to remember that our forefathers were moved by a strong spiritual commitment to evangelism. Furthermore, as dissenters, they endured constant persecution by the Puritan/Anglican regime (or the Lutheran or Calvinist) under which they lived. To disobey the law by leading in clandestine worship was to risk a heavy fine and lengthy imprisonment.

Summary

This article, along with the others that have preceded it, has traced our worship-practice roots, from New Testament times through 1600 years of the history of the Christian church, ending with the Reformation and finally, the emergence of free churches. The purpose has been to show our universal Christian heritage, as well as the unique tradition of each individual fellowship.

To be sure, there is a common, universal heritage. We have seen that material from Scripture was the basis of musical worship in all medieval services. We have also traced the evangelical emphasis on preaching from New Testament times and the early church fathers, through the medieval Prone, the reformed services of Luther and Calvin, and the worship of the Separatists. All Christians continue to experience a Liturgy of the Word and a Liturgy of the Eucharist, though most Reformed and free churches have perpetuated the medieval reluctance to participate in Communion on a frequent basis. Furthermore, particularly in the free-church tradition, occasional observance tends to give the impression that the Lord’s Supper is an appendage that is not central to full-orbed worship. Most evangelical scholars agree that the early church celebrated the Eucharist each Lord’s Day. It may be that the free churches should face up to the question as to whether or not, in this matter, they are living up to their claim to be the New Testament church.

All the changes brought by the Reformation were responses to the sincere desire to be more “evangelical.” Obviously, the reaction of the free (Separatist) bodies was the most radical, but it tended to be tempered (as in the matter of the use of music) within a few years. Nevertheless, some of the attitudes and practices which began at that time have haunted certain free church groups ever since. It is important that we distinguish true evangelical reform from blind iconoclasm. In recent years, many Christian groups have taken a new look at their heritage and have tended to reinterpret those reforms.

A Reformation Model of Worship: Martin Luther, Formula Missae: Order of Mass and Communion for the Church at Wittenberg (1523)

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Luther’s Formula Missae, written after his break with Rome, did not suggest a wholesale reform of the Catholic mass. Rather, Luther cautiously suggested ways of adapting the Mass for use in local congregations and also proposed ways to make it more relevant to the common people.

Introduction

Martin Luther (1483–1546) came reluctantly to liturgical change. In the midst of growing enthusiasm for reformation, he was afraid that any liturgical dictum from his hand would be quickly snatched up, widely printed, and applied as a new law. He did not want anyone saying, “This proposal Luther writes is the only true way to do Christian worship.” Rather, he believed that liturgical change depended upon actual pastoral circumstances and that it always had to be preceded by education and accompanied by love. Furthermore, if only the gospel of Christ was clearly preached, the character of the ceremonies hardly mattered. His own taste, like that of the common people he meant to serve, seems to have run generally toward the conservation of visually dramatic ceremony and the encouragement of good, participatory music.

Finally, asked repeatedly by his friends and irritated by the widespread use of liturgies created by his enemies, he had to act. In 1523, he published his Formula Missae, the “Order of Mass and Communion for the Church at Wittenberg.” He would return to the task in 1526 with his “German Mass.” In the same years, he also published two different proposals for doing baptism and two essays about what is important in worship. But the first of these works, the Formula, is the one which has had the greatest and longest-lived influence among Lutherans and the one which stands at the root of North American Lutheran liturgy. It is the text which, in edited form, is printed here.

There are three important things to note about this text. In the first place, it is not a liturgy. Luther, in fact, never produced an actual liturgy. This text is neither a service book nor a manual of liturgical prayers. Rather, it is an essay discussing how to use evangelically the traditional liturgy and liturgical books of the church. It is that discussion which is important to Luther, not the imposition of a particular set of prayers. He is concerned with the order of things and their meaning in that order. Indeed, the best of the Lutheran tradition continues to be a discussion about the meaning and evangelical use of catholic material, not the production of required texts.

In the second place, the essay is about “how we do it in Wittenberg.” Luther knows that other congregations and cities may take his pattern as their own, but he wants to avoid the unthinking application of a new law. Liturgy, while it receives universal material and traditions, is always local, always done here, in our particular way. And Luther wants any liturgical change to be preceded by teaching and preaching. Change must be for the sake of the clarity of the gospel, not because of the authority of the preacher.

In the third place, the liturgy which Luther here envisions is celebrated in Latin. Luther calls for a sermon in the language of the people, but here he is still proposing a liturgy in the old language of the church, sung by the priest and a choir, with the people sometimes entering in, if they knew the chant. Later, he would interweave vernacular hymnody with this Latin rite, and then he would see the old liturgical texts brought over into singable German. But, for now, he uses a Latin mass, sung in a church with an educated choir. He could, of course, count on such a choir being present in Wittenberg, a university town with scholars at every level.

The reader, then, ought to imagine a medieval parish or collegiate church in Wittenberg. The old statues and stained glass are all still in place. There is a choir of schoolboys and university students near the altar, at the east end of the building. There is a great crucifix over the altar. Candles are burning. The people are seated on benches or standing against the walls. There is a high pulpit against one wall, in the midst of the people. And the clergy are mostly vested in the old mass vestments, although the preacher may very well be wearing a black university gown.

Grace and peace in Christ to the venerable Doctor Nicholas Hausmann, bishop of the church in Zwickau, saint in Christ, from Martin Luther.

Until now I have only used books and sermons to wean the hearts of people from their godless regard for ceremonial; for I believed it would be a Christian and helpful thing if I could prompt a peaceful removal of the abomination which Satan set up in the holy place through the man of sin [Matt 24:15; 2 Thess. 2:3–4]. Therefore, I have used neither authority nor pressure. Nor did I make any innovations. For I have been hesitant and fearful, partly because of the weak in faith, who cannot suddenly exchange an old and accustomed order of worship for a new and unusual one, and more so because of the fickle and fastidious spirits who rush in like unclean swine without faith or reason, and who delight only in novelty and tire of it as quickly, when it has worn off. Such people are a nuisance even in other affairs, but in spiritual matters, they are absolutely unbearable. Nonetheless, at the risk of bursting with anger, I must bear with them, unless I want to let the gospel itself be denied to the people.
But since there is hope now that the hearts of many have been enlightened and strengthened by the grace of God, and since the cause of the kingdom of Christ demands that at long last offenses should be removed from it, we must dare something in the name of Christ. For it is right that we should provide at least for a few, lest by our desire to detach ourselves from the frivolous faddism of some people we provide for nobody, or by our fear of ultimately offending others, we endorse their universally held abominations.
Therefore, most excellent Nicholas, since you have requested it so often, we will deal with an evangelical form of saying mass (as it is called) and of administering communion. And we will so deal with it that we shall no longer rule hearts by teaching alone, but we will put our hand to it and put the revision into practice in the public administration of communion, not wishing, however, to prejudice others against adopting and following a different order. Indeed, we heartily beg in the name of Christ that if in time something better should be revealed to them, they would tell us to be silent, so that by a common effort we may aid the common cause.
We therefore first assert: It is not now nor ever has been our intention to abolish the liturgical service of God completely, but rather to purify the one that is now in use from the wretched accretions which corrupt it and to point out an evangelical use.

Commentary: Luther’s work is addressed to one of his friends, the pastor of a congregation in a neighboring town. He calls this pastor “bishop” because he believes the pastor and presider in any Christian congregation is the present occupant of the New Testament office of bishop and is more important than the regional princes and hierarchs which the medieval church called “bishop.” He continues to use this title for the local pastor throughout this document.

Luther expresses his hesitations about doing liturgical work at all. He wants no innovations, no faddism. He wants no offense to the weak. He wants no universal rule which he determines. Nonetheless, against these fears, he decides to “dare something in the name of Christ.”

Any reader of Luther quickly discovers the passion, vigor, and earthiness of his language. He is hard on his opponents and colorful in his condemnations. He is equally passionate in his care for the people and his descriptions of the Gospel. This is not a measured and moderate theological treatise, such as one would have later from the hand of John Calvin.

Luther plans not only to write about the liturgy but to see it actually done in Wittenberg. He is not sure it should be done this way elsewhere, and he pleads for better work to be made known.

This last paragraph states the central Lutheran liturgical principle: not the invention of a new liturgy, even a supposedly “biblical” one, but the purification and evangelical use of the old liturgy.

Text Continues: First, we approve and retain the introits for the Lord’s days and the festivals of Christ, such as Easter, Pentecost, and the Nativity, although we prefer the Psalms from which they were taken as of old. But for the time being we permit the accepted use. And if any desire to approve the introits (inasmuch as they have been taken from Psalms or other passages of Scripture) for apostles’ days, for feasts of the Virgin and of other saints, we do not condemn them. But we in Wittenberg intend to observe only the Lord’s days and the festivals of the Lord. We think that all the feasts of the saints should be abrogated, or if anything in them deserves it, it should be brought into the Sunday sermon. We regard the feasts of Purification and Annunciation as feasts of Christ, even as Epiphany and Circumcision. Instead of the feasts of St. Stephen and of St. John the Evangelist, we are pleased to use the office of the Nativity. The feasts of the Holy Cross shall be anathema. Let others act according to their own conscience or in consideration of the weakness of some—whatever the Spirit may suggest.
Second, we accept the Kyrie eleison in the form in which it has been used until now, with the various melodies for different seasons, together with the Angelic Hymn, Gloria in Excelsis, which follows it. However, the bishop may decide to omit the latter as often as he wishes.
Third, the prayer or collect which follows, if it is evangelical (and those for Sunday usually are), should be retained in its accepted form; but there should be only one. After this the Epistle is read. Certainly the time has not yet come to attempt revision here, as nothing unevangelical is read, except that those parts from the Epistles of Paul in which faith is taught are read only rarely, while the exhortations to morality are most frequently read. The Epistles seem to have been chosen by a singularly unlearned and superstitious advocate of works. But for the service, those sections in which faith in Christ is taught should have been given preference. The latter were certainly considered more often in the Gospels by whoever it was who chose these lessons. In the meantime, the sermon in the vernacular will have to supply what is lacking. If in the future the vernacular be used in the mass (which Christ may grant), one must see to it that Epistles and Gospels chosen from the best and most weighty parts of these writings be read in the mass.
Fourth, the gradual of two verses shall be sung, either together with the Alleluia, or one of the two, as the bishop may decide. But the Quadregesima graduals, and others like them that exceed two verses, may be sung at home by whoever wants them. In church we do not want to quench the spirit of the faithful with tedium. Nor is it proper to distinguish Lent, Holy Week, or Good Friday from other days, lest we seem to mock and ridicule Christ with half of a mass and the one part of the sacrament. For the Alleluia is the perpetual voice of the church, just as the memorial of His passion and victory is perpetual.

Commentary: The liturgy begins. The choir is singing the Introit, that old fragment of a psalm which is a shortened version of the entrance psalm originally used in the Roman Mass. Luther would like to recover the whole psalm, but for now, the traditional introits stay in place. While the choir is singing, a procession enters, perhaps from the sacristy door on the side, perhaps from the great western door. Candles and a cross lead the way and the vested clergy follow, moving through the building and up to the altar.

In Wittenberg, this day is probably a Sunday, though it may be one of the days of the year which are regarded as “feasts of Christ”: i.e., Christmas, New Year’s Day (Circumcision), Epiphany, the Purification (February 2), Annunciation (March 25), Ascensino, or Transfiguration (August 6). While at this point Luther is proposing the elimination of the Saints’ days, the example of the saints as believers should be brought into the Sunday sermon nearest their old observances.

When the procession concludes, with the presiding priest, the “bishop,” standing before the altar, facing east, the choir takes up the chant of the nine-fold Kyrie (“Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy”), using one of the old chant tones. Many of the people may join in this singing.

Then the presider intones, “Gloria in Excelsis Deo,” “Glory be to God on high,” and the choir continues singing this old Roman rite entrance hymn.

Finally, the entrance is completed with the presider, still facing the altar in the east, intoning the collect which the old mass formularies appointed for this particular Sunday. This is the prayer of the day, the prayer which sums up and concludes the entrance into worship.

Many of the people will have been standing throughout this entrance. Now they will be seated, though some will continue to mill around and others will be standing against the walls. The presider, still standing to one side at the altar but now facing the people, reads a passage from one of the Epistles in Latin. In a few years, here, this passage will be read in German and may be read from the pulpit. In spite of Luther’s critique, Lutherans for the most part continued to read the old appointed readings, even when they shifted to reading in German. No matter what the reading, however, the teaching of “faith in Christ” was to be the business of the sermon.

The lesson finished, the choir takes up the chant again. They sing the traditional verses between the readings, the Gradual or the Gradual and Alleluia. Forbidden by Luther, they do not sing the longer versions of these, nor do they usually sing the Latin hymn, the so-called sequence which may sometimes follow here on great feasts. In spite of Luther, they generally continue to suppress Alleluia during Lent.

Text Continues: Fifth, we allow no sequences or proses unless the bishop wishes to use the short one for the Nativity of Christ: “Grates nunc omnes.” There are hardly any which smack of the Spirit, save those of the Holy Spirit: “Sancti Spiritus” and “Veni sancte spiritus,” which may be sung after breakfast, at Vespers, or at mass (if the bishop pleases).
Sixth, the Gospel lesson follows, for which we neither prohibit nor prescribe candles or incense. Let these things be free.
Seventh, the custom of singing the Nicene Creed does not displease us; yet this matter should also be left in the hands of the bishop. Likewise, we do not think that it matters whether the sermon in the vernacular comes after the Creed or before the introit of the mass; although it might be argued that since the Gospel is the voice crying in the wilderness and calling unbelievers to faith, it seems particularly fitting to preach before mass. For properly speaking, the mass consists in using the Gospel and communing at the table of the Lord. Inasmuch as it belongs to believers, it should be observed apart (from unbelievers). Yet since we are free, this argument does not bind us, especially since everything in the mass up to the Creed is ours, free and not prescribed by God; therefore it does not necessarily have anything to do with the mass.
Eighth, that utter abomination follows which forces all that precedes in the mass into its service and is, therefore, called the offertory. From here on almost everything smacks and savors of sacrifice. And the words of life and salvation [the Words of Institution] are imbedded in the midst of it all, just as the ark of the Lord once stood in the idol’s temple next to Dagon. And there was no Israelite who could approach or bring back to the ark until it “smote his enemies in the hinder parts, putting them to a perpetual reproach,” and forced them to return it—which is a parable of the present time. Let us, therefore, repudiate everything that smacks of sacrifice, together with the entire canon and retain only that which is pure and holy, and so order our mass.
After the Creed or after the sermon, let bread and wine be made ready for blessing in the customary manner. I have not yet decided whether or not water should be mixed with the wine. I rather incline, however, to favor pure wine without water; for the passage, “Thy wine is mixed with water,” in Isaiah 1 [:22] gives the mixture a bad connotation.
Pure wine beautifully portrays the purity of gospel teaching. Further, the blood of Christ, whom we here commemorate, has been poured out unmixed with ours. Nor can the fancies of those be upheld who say that this is a sign of our union with Christ; for that is not what we commemorate. In fact, we are not united with Christ until he sheds his blood; or else we would be celebrating the shedding of our own blood together with the blood of Christ shed for us. Nonetheless, I have no intention of cramping anyone’s freedom or of introducing a law that might again lead to superstition. Christ will not care very much about these matters, nor are they worth arguing about. Enough foolish controversies have been fought on these and many other matters by the Roman and Greek churches. And though some direct attention to the water and blood which flowed from the side of Jesus, they prove nothing. For that water signified something entirely different from what they wish that mixed water to signify. Nor was it mixed with blood. The symbolism does not fit, and the reference is inapplicable. As a human invention, this mixing [of water and wine] cannot, therefore, be considered binding.

Commentary: While the choir is singing, a procession forms again, the cross and candles being carried into the midst of the people, preceded by a cleric carrying incense and followed by another carrying a Gospel Book and by the presider. All the people stand to receive this procession. In the midst of the church, the procession gathers into a group around the book, and the presider then chants the appointed passage from one of the four Gospels. Though the candles and incense are sometimes omitted, they are not here. Indeed, in the dark church, candles are often needed to read the text of the book. And this text is always chanted. Even later, when the Gospel would come to be read in German rather than Latin, the “Gospel tone” was used for the reading. This sung text is able to make itself heard, reverberating into all the corners of the old stone church.

As the procession then makes its way back to the eastern end of the church, the choir takes up chanting the Nicene Creed, and the presider (or, sometimes, another priest, vested in the habit of a monastic teacher at the university) turns aside to climb into the pulpit which is near the people. When the creed is finished, the preacher begins the sermon. On some occasions, this vernacular preaching may be the first thing to occur, before the singing of the Introit. Such a placement continues the medieval practice of the friars, but Luther now gives this free-floating sermon an evangelical interpretation. And he sums up the whole of this first part of the mass, this chanting, and reading of Scripture and preaching, in the phrase “using the gospel.” But today in Wittenberg—and ordinarily—this use of the gospel takes place in the classic order: After the readings, which the preacher first repeats in the vernacular, the sermon makes the gospel of Jesus Christ available to be used by faith.

What follows now is the greatest Lutheran break with the medieval mass. The several prayers which the priest would recite at the preparation of the Table (“the little canon” of the offertory) and at the consecration of the elements (the “Roman canon” or the “great canon” of the mass) are simply excised. For Luther, all these texts stank of sacrifice, as if the Supper were something we were giving to God, not God to us. The preparation of the Table occurs, rather, in silence, and the prayer over bread and cup is reduced to elegant simplicity. What the people see, however, is essentially unchanged. They never took part in these prayers, in any case: The prayers were recited by the priest alone, sotto voce or even silently, facing the altar, and the people never had the book in which they were written. So, while the priest comes down out of the pulpit and begins to approach the altar, clerics near the altar are unveiling the chalice, spreading the corporal (the great linen cloth on which the vessels will stand), and bringing bread and wine from the side table (the “credence”). Today, only wine is used, as Luther counseled. No water usually is added to the chalice, though that is still sometimes done, albeit without the medieval prayers which used to accompany it.

Text Continues:
The bread and wine having been prepared, one may proceed as follows:
The Lord be with you.
Response: And with thy spirit.
Lift up your hearts.
Response: Let us lift them to the Lord.
Let us give thanks unto the Lord our God.
Response: It is meet and right.
It is truly meet and right, just and salutary for us to give thanks to Thee always and everywhere, Holy Lord, Father Almighty, Eternal God, through Christ our Lord who the day before he suffered, took bread, and when he had given thanks, broke it, and gave it to his disciples, saying, Take, eat; this is my body, which is given for you. After the same manner also the cup when he had supped, saying, This cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you and for many, for the remission of sins; this do, as often as ye do it, in remembrance of me. I wish these words of Christ, with a brief pause after the preface, to be recited in the same tone in which the Lord’s Prayer is chanted elsewhere in the canon so that those who are present may be able to hear them, although the evangelically minded should be free about all these things and may recite these words either silently or audibly.
The blessing ended, let the choir sing the Sanctus. And while the Benedictus is being sung, let the bread and cup be elevated according to the customary rite for the benefit of the weak in faith who might be offended if such an obvious change in this rite of the mass were suddenly made. This concession can be made especially where, through sermons in the vernacular, they have been taught what the elevations means.
After this, the Lord’s Prayer shall be read. Thus, let us pray: “Taught by thy saving precepts … ” The prayer which follows, “Deliver us, we beseech thee … ” is to be omitted together with all the signs they were accustomed to make over the host and with the host over the chalice. Nor shall the host be broken or mixed into the chalice. But immediately after the Lord’s Prayer shall be said, “The peace of the Lord,” etc., which is, so to speak, a public absolution of the sins of the communicants, the true voice of the gospel announcing remission of sins, and therefore the one and most worthy preparation for the Lord’s Table, if faith holds to these words as coming from the mouth of Christ himself. On this account, I would like to have it pronounced facing the people, as the bishops are accustomed to do, which is the only custom of the ancient bishops that is left among our bishops.

Commentary: The presider now stands at the prepared altar. Turning toward the people, he begins the prayer at the Table—or “the blessing”—by the ancient exchange with people, sung according to the ancient tone. Many of the people know the Latin response and reply together with the choir. Then, turning toward the east, toward the bread and cup, the presider lifts his hands in the old posture of prayer and begins the thanksgiving.

The thanksgiving quickly comes to the recitation of the account of the Supper, and at the mention of bread and cup, the presider slightly lifts the paten (the plate for the wafer-form bread) and chalice in turn. Unlike medieval practice, this entire prayer, though simple and brief, is sung aloud in the old chant tone of the Lord’s Prayer so the people can hear it.

After the presider concludes Christ’s words over the cup, the choir begins to sing the Sanctus and Benedictus: Holy, holy, holy Lord God of Sabbaoth, heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.

While they are so singing, the priest lifts the bread and cup well over his head, so the people can see them, so they can behold these concrete signs of the mercy of God in Christ. Many of the people fall to their knees before this sight, just as they have done all their lives. Luther’s theology of the real presence of Christ “in, under, and with” the elements enables the churches following him to retain the elevation, as long as the people understand its significance.

The paten and chalice are then replaced on the altar and the presider sings, “Taught by your saving precept, we make bold to say,” whereupon he begins to chant the Lord’s Prayer in the traditional tone.

With these words and ceremony, the promise of Christ is claimed, a thanksgiving prayer is said, and the Table is blessed.

None of the medieval prayers which followed at this point, mostly prayers for forgiveness and for a good reception of communion, are recited. Rather, the priest turns to the people and greets them with the fragment of the ancient kiss of peace which still survives: He says, “The peace of the Lord be with you always.” A few voices answer with the traditional response: “And also with you.” They have been taught that this mutual greeting is the very voice of the gospel, announcing the forgiveness of sins, and that trusting this voice is enough of a preparation for a worthy communion.

Text Continues: Then, while the Agnus Dei is sung, let him [the bishop] communicate, first himself and then the people. But if he should wish to pray the prayer, “O Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, who according to the will of the Father,” etc., before communing, he does not pray wrongly, provided he changes the singular “mine” and “me” to the plural “ours” and “us.” The same thing holds for the prayer, “The body of our Lord Jesus Christ preserve me (or thy) soul unto life eternal,” and “The blood of our Lord preserve thy soul unto life eternal.”
If he desires to have the communion sung, let it be sung. But instead of the complenda or final collect, because it sounds almost like a sacrifice, let the following prayer be read in the same tone: “What we have taken with our lips, O Lord … ” The following one may also be read: “May thy body which we have received … (changing to the plural number) … who livest and reignest world without end.” “The Lord be with you,” etc. In place of the Ite missa, let the Benedicamus domino be said, adding Alleluia according to its own melodies where and when it is desired. Or the Benedicamus may be borrowed from Vespers.
The customary benediction may be given, or else the one from Numbers 6 [:24–27], which the Lord himself appointed: “The Lord bless us and keep us. The Lord make his face shine upon us and be gracious unto us. The Lord lift up his countenance upon us, and give us peace.”
The bishop should also be free to decide on the order in which he will receive and administer both species. He may choose to bless both bread and wine before he takes the bread. Or else he may, between the blessing of the bread and of the wine, give the bread both to himself and to as many as desire it, then bless the wine and administer it to all. This is the order Christ seems to have observed, as the words of the Gospel show, where he told them to eat the bread before he had blessed the cup [Mark 14:22–23]. Then is said expressly, “Likewise also the cup after he supped” [Luke 22:20; 1 Cor. 11:25]. Thus you see that the cup was not blessed until after the bread had been eaten. But this order is [now] quite new and allows no room for those prayers which heretofore were said after the blessing, unless they would also be changed.

Commentary: Then the choir begins to sing the Agnus Dei (“Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us, grant us peace”), while the presider communes himself and the people begin to come forward to kneel at the altar rail and receive Communion themselves. They are given both the bread and the cup, the former by the presider and the latter by another cleric. Today, these words are used at the distribution: The body of our Lord Jesus Christ preserve your soul into life eternal; and the blood of our Lord preserve your soul unto life eternal.

Luther’s reflections on a different order (prayer over the bread then distribution of the bread followed by prayer over the cup and distribution of the cup) remain only a literary conjecture for now, although later this rather awkward idea will be tried occasionally.

When the choir has finished the Agnus Dei and when they themselves have communed, they take up the chant of a passage of Scripture, called “the communion,” properly appointed for the day in the old missals. The presider, meanwhile, consumes what remains of the bread and wine and cleanses the vessels. When the choir has finished, he chants these prayers, facing the altar:

What we have taken with our lips, O Lord, may we receive with pure minds, and from a temporal gift may it become for us an everlasting remedy. May the body and blood which we have received cleave to our inmost parts. And grant that no stain of sin may remain in us whom this pure and holy sacrament has refreshed, O God, who lives and reigns, world without end. Amen.

The mass then comes quickly to a conclusion with the rites of Dismissal. Facing the people, the priest exchanges the greeting with them again. He then chants, “Let us bless the Lord,” the choir and some of the people responding, “Thanks be to God.” Then he extends his hands and intones the benediction. He and the other clerics leave and the people begin to move toward the door.

Text Continues: Thus we think about the mass. But in all these matters we will want to beware, lest we make binding what should be free, or make sinners of those who may do some things differently or omit others. All that matters is that the Words of Institution should be kept intact and that everything should be done by faith. For these rites are supposed to be for Christians, i.e., children of the “free woman” [Gal. 4:31], who observe them voluntarily and from the heart, but are free to change them how and whenever they may wish. Therefore, it is not in these matters that anyone should either seek or establish as law some indispensable form.… Further, even if different people make use of different rites, let no one judge or despise the other, but every man be fully persuaded in his own mind [Rom. 14:5]. Let us feel and think the same, even though we may act differently. And let us approve each other’s rites lest schisms and sects should result from this diversity in rites.… For external rites, even though we cannot do without them—just as we cannot do without food or drink—do not commend us to God, even as food does not commend us to him [1 Cor. 8:8]. Faith and love commend us to God. Wherefore here let the word of Paul hold sway, “For the kingdom of God is not meat and drink; but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost” [Rom. 14:17]. So the kingdom of God is not any rite, but faith within you, etc.

Commentary: Again Luther states the central principal: It is we who need ritual, like we need food and drink, not God who requires it. Therefore, the liturgy should rightly be traditional, but it must also be evangelical, a use of the gospel and a reception of Christ’s gift. The details of the ceremony must never be made into a new law.

(Text excerpted from “An Order of Mass and Communion for the Church at Wittenberg, 1523,” in Luther’s Works, vol. 53: Liturgy and Hymns, ed. by Ulrich S. Leupold [Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1965], 19–31.)