Categories: uncategorized
Date: 09 October 2005 12:28:33
Tonight I attended Mass at St Hurmizd's Cathedral, which is a Cathedral of the Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East. Despite it being opened in 1990, and my living five minutes away, I've never attended liturgy there, or even visited it. Though I've attended a Church of the East parish in San José, California, while visiting a friend over there. But I shall definitely be back.
My reason for finally getting off my behind was that a friend of a friend, and someone who was in the same uni course as myself (Bachelor of Science (Computing Science) -- we finished in 1998: it seems so long ago now!), has been ordained a deacon in the church. I haven't seen him for a while, and I thought it'd be nice to see him again. Unfortunately, something came up and I had to leave almost immediately after the service -- so I didn't get to say "Hello". I'll definitely have to return -- not only to see him, but also because of the sheer beauty of the service.
There's a lot to say, and perhaps I'll leave some for another day. But here is a few things, for those who have never attended a Church of the East liturgy or entered a Church of the East church.
The interior of the church is different to any I've experienced. Icons are not permitted, nor are depictions of Christ. Both churches I've been to have had stained glass windows with patterns, and St Hurmizd's has some with a dove. If you are looking towards the altar, you'll notice doors with curtains on either side, and a huge curtain across about half of the front, covering the altar and sanctuary behind. If you look up, at least at St Hurmizd's, you'll also see several huge, and I mean huge, chandeliers. Absolutely amazing. So, while there are no icons (as in Orthodoxy) or stained-glass windows (as in some churches) of saints and Christ, there are many other things which the eye catches. There is also a shrine containing a bone of St Hurmizd, and the beautiful altar is erected on a stone collected from the monastery of St Hurmizd in Iraq.
When the liturgy is about to commence, the curtains open. Tonight there was a priest and three deacons. I'd never heard my friend's friend sing before at all, so it was a delightful surprise to hear the beautiful voice he has. He read the Epistle loudly, clearly and wonderfully, and he, along with the priest and other deacons, chanted like I envisage the angels do. It was absolutely beautiful: clear, strong and heart-stirring. A blessing to be there.
The choir leads the congregation in response and they have an extremely talented choir there. They were at an upper level behind us, so their chanting was clear to hear and follow. The melodies, for want of a better word (I'm sure there must be a church term for the music setting, but I've no idea what it is!), are simple, yet effective. The congregation can follow along and join in, and they did. And yet, despite the simplicity of the tune, one gets caught up to heaven while joining the chanting. The melody and the words transport you there. The words to the liturgy are amazing. Unfortunately, someone has the Service Book that my friend in the US gave me, so I can't give you a sample now, but hopefully I'll be able to soon. Hymns that are so packed full of theology and doctrine, but yet are not dry, but joyful. I find the same attraction in the hymns of the Orthodox Church.
The curtains close at certain points at the liturgy and re-open later. While closed, the prayers from the clergy continue (some audible, some inaudible), and the responses and singing continue from the congregation. It is a similar feeling, though to me on a grander scale, of what I've experienced in an Orthodox parish that has the iconstasis and where the clergy enter and exit via the doors (our parish services are held in a community hall, so we don't have doors that close off the view of the altar). When the curtains were opened, I felt as if I the earthly veil was being removed and we were getting glimpses of heaven: glimpses of the heavenly worship that is continually being offered by the angels, archangels, chuerubim and seraphim in heaven. I felt as if we were drawing into, or rather being drawn to, mystically, the heavenly realms.
Orthodoxy has similar beliefs about the worship here on earth being a reflection of that happening in heaven, so I wouldn't be surprised if the same belief was held by our Church of the East cousins. It no doubt sounds strange, and perhaps it is, but that is the only way I can explain it.
So that is a bit about the externals in a Church of the East Mass. I hope I've given you a brief glimpse into this ancient church's liturgy. I hope to share some of the hymns and prayers with you soon -- once I get my book back!
[If you're curious about the history of, and what is, the Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East, take a look at this page, from the Church's website.