The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England,1400-1580

Product Information

For a historian increasingly preoccupied with the nature of the Reformation, all this had a special resonance. I didn’t of course imagine that the ritual revolutions of the 16th and the 20th centuries could be equated, but some of the issues were undoubtedly the same. The calls for the drastic simplification of worship as a good in its own right, the disparagement of the apparently magical mindset which underlay the ritual framework of pre-conciliar Catholicism, the abolition of “rote” practices like Friday abstinence in favour of voluntary and private acts of penance, which were held to be superior because more “authentic” – these were in some respects a re-run of the reforming agenda of the 16th century, and were often justified with strikingly similar arguments. Lccn 92050579 Ocr tesseract 4.1.1 Ocr_converted abbyy-to-hocr 1.1.4 Ocr_detected_lang en Ocr_detected_lang_conf 1.0000 Ocr_detected_script Latin Ocr_module_version 0.0.12 Ocr_parameters -l eng Openlibrary OL21567714M Openlibrary_edition Nevertheless, it is the liturgical celebration which shaped and defined such gild observances, and the same centrality of the pattern of the liturgy is evident in a number of the surviving Corpus Christi plays of the Purification. In the East Anglian Ludus Coventriae play of the Purification, for example, Simeon receives the child Jesus with a speech which is simply a literal verse rendering of the opening psalm of the Mass of the feast. While he holds the child in his arms, a choir sings “Nunc Dimittis”, almost certainly to the Candlemas processional music. Joseph distributes candles to Mary, Simeon, and Anna, and takes one himself. Having thus formed, in the words of the Speculum, a “worshipful processioun”, they go together to the altar, where Mary lays the child, and Joseph offers the temple priest five pence. For the audience, the whole play would have been inescapably redolent of the familiar Candlemas liturgy, and in essence an extension of it.[21] The Reformation was not, therefore, a deliverance from an unpopular system, but was rather the imposition of an alien faith that ruptured the traditional religious practices in England, and which subsequently left a deep void in the collective spirituality of the nation.

Washing of the Altar – The Episcopal Church Washing of the Altar – The Episcopal Church

Candlemas, the feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary or, alternatively, of the Presentation of the Infant Jesus in the Temple, was celebrated forty days after Christmas, on 2 February, and constituted the last great festival of the Christmas cycle. The texts prescribed for the feast in breviary and missal emphasize the Christmas paradoxes of the strength of the eternal God displayed in the fragility of the new-born child, of the appearance of the divine light in the darkness of human sin, of renewal and rebirth in the dead time of the year, and of the new life of Heaven manifested to Simeon’s, and the world’s, old age. [1] Celebrated as a “Greater Double” – that is, of lesser solemnity only than the supreme feasts such as Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost, but of equal status to Trinity Sunday, Corpus Christi, and All Saints – its importance in the popular mind is reflected in the fact that it was one of the days on which, according to the legend of St Brendan, Judas was allowed out of Hell to ease his torment in the sea.[2] The Purification was marked by one of the most elaborate processions of the liturgical year, when every parishioner was obliged to join in, carrying a blessed candle, which was offered, together with a penny, to the priest at Mass. The candles so offered were part of the laity’s parochial dues, and were probably often burned before the principal image of the Virgin in the church.[3] An account survives from fourteenth-century Friesthorpe in Lincolnshire of a row between the rector and his parish because on the day after Candlemas “maliciously and against the will of the parishioners” he took down and carried off all the candles which the previous day had been set before the Image of the Blessed Virgin, “for devotion and penance”.[4] The blessing of candles and procession took place immediately before the parish Mass, and, in addition to the candles offered to the priest, many others were blessed, including the great Paschal candle used in the ceremonies for the blessing of the baptismal water at Easter and Pentecost. The people then processed round the church carrying lighted candles, and the “Nunc Dimittis” was sung. Mass began immediately afterwards with the singing of verses from Psalm 47, “We have received your mercy, O God, in the midst of your temple.”[5] They remain true even if the truth is rejected, as it was in Christ’s time, is, and will be. We do not have “progress” in the profane sense; we do not have a progressive revelation. We have the truth of Christ, at the center of history and of our being, now and forever. He is what lifts us out of our mundane sinful lives, and conducts our attention to what is changeless, pure, and in every sense, higher. We return to this, or try to get away. he claims he wanted an overview of traditional religion before the Reformation, but he keeps giving the reader individual stories and then makes general remarks based on these 2-3 stories and we don't actually get to know why they're representative most of the time. Is it the case that English Christians festered under Roman rule? Is it the case that English Christians felt burdened rather than uplifted by the ecclesiastical structure, with its liturgical seasons, feasts, fasts, and a ready ritual to almost any and every aspect of one’s life? Is it the case that English Christians longed for the day when they would be freed from notions of Purgatory, prayers for the dead, Masses, and devotion to the Saints? The established view is that they were. As far as Duffy is concerned, this perception is pure fantasy. Such revolutionary aspirations may have existed among a subsection of the elite and a small collection of radicals, but for the vast majority of English people, the prevailing view was one of contentment with the existing Church structure. Far from being resented or opposed, English Catholicism was embraced, providing structure, meaning, and occasion. Far from a church being governed by iron-rod wielding clergy, Duffy presents a nation of laity firmly attached to the parish system; indeed, exercising a great deal of control over its management. Immense pride was taken in all things from memorized prayers, to decorated Altars and shrines, all representing the piety and devotion of the people. Duffy focuses a great deal of effort into revising the pre-Reformation approach to the Sacraments, particularly the Mass. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass--the foundation of the liturgical and spiritual life of the Church--was not merely ‘observed’ by a passive congregation, but, like all Sacraments, was actively participated in through the faith and devotion. Ingrained pious practices were dear to the people, particularly devotion to individual Saints, as well as the much derided ‘cult of the dead’ (the system of praying for the souls in Purgatory, and knowing that people would be praying for your soul after your own death), which provided comfort in an often precarious existence. The Catholic Church in pre-Reformation England was a Church that was intertwined in the lives of ordinary English people, and these same ordinary people gave the Church their support and dedication.The Stripping of the Altar or the Stripping of the Chancel is a ceremony carried out in many Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, and Anglican churches on Maundy Thursday. [2] Duffy's book is in every sense a substantial achievement. It is lengthy, carefully argued and researched, and illustrated with photographs of direct relevance to the argument. The tone is vigorous and alert, with occasional lyrical passages, and the author writes with clear sympathy and imaginative understanding about the disappearing world of medieval Catholicism. The book will mark a turning point in how several aspects of the English Reformation are considered by historians and the educated public. It will . . . contribute to an eventual shift in popular opinion and attitudes concerning the Reformation."—Robert Ombres, Moreana

The stripping of the altars : traditional religion in England The stripping of the altars : traditional religion in England

Ocr tesseract 4.1.1 Ocr_detected_lang en Ocr_detected_lang_conf 1.0000 Ocr_detected_script Latin Ocr_module_version 0.0.5 Ocr_parameters -l eng Openlibrary OL20928980M Openlibrary_edition Then along came the English Reformation and, in less than thirty years, swept it all away: the saints, the altars, the banners, replacing them with... The Word. Unadorned English words, a communion table, a Bible.note 3) See Duffy’s devotional writings, The Creed in the Catechism: The Life of God for Us (Burns and Oates, 2005), Faith of Our Fathers (Continuum, 2006), and Walking to Emmaus (Burns & Oates, 2006); and his popular history of the Popes, Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997; 3rd ed. 2006). Deeply imaginative, movingly written, and splendidly illustrated. . . . Duffy's analysis . . . carries conviction."--Maurice Keen, New York Review of Books

The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England

Ranging from archbishops to “old church ladies,” Duffy’s work contains an abundance of primary sources. For anyone interested in the English Reformation, and especially anyone interested in medieval Catholicism, I recommend Stripping of the Altars . By citing parish ledgers, personal wills of the laity, liturgical primers, private prayers, guilds, parish processions and plays, Duffy makes the case that Catholicism was anything but a rotting stump at the time of Henry VIII’s schism with Rome.David Siegenthaler, writing in the Anglican Theological Review said, "The importance of this book is that it affords opportunity to look broadly and comprehensively at the religious life of women and men before and after the separation from the Roman obedience and so take the measure of that life that in the continuum of English church history it can be noted and honored."

The Stripping of the Altars - Yale University Press London

England however, as Duffy rightly points out, remained quietly and confidently Catholic until William Tyndale, copying the Lutheran example, translated the Bible into English. This merits two mentions in the whole book, including one in which it is stated that the Tyndale translation was made illegal. The fact that hundreds, if not thousands, of these bibles were smuggled into the country is glossed over. This was the beginning of the Reformation in England and it took place before the marital troubles (or rather succession difficulties) of Henry VIII came to a head. The essentially conservative king took the Byzantine view of the connection between the monarchy and the church, with the King as the Supreme Head. This, of course, led to the rejection of the role of the Papacy and that in turn led to the King seeking allies amongst those who would support the Royal Supremacy. Henry VIII was essentially cautious about embracing Protestant ideas. This is an abridged excerpt from Eamon Duffy’s introduction to the new edition of The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England, 1400-1580 (Yale, 2022) Interesting- Duffy seems to imply that much of the Edwardian enforcement of reform can be attributed to Tudor court 'rapacity'- surely he can appreciate this was more a matter of religious principle? I'd be interested to see how the supposed extravagance of the mid-Tudor court supports thisMargery’s response was characteristically extreme, but in essence her expectation of the liturgy was very much that of her neighbours, and there is no reason to think that the “hevynly songys” were anything other than the liturgical chants for the day, sung with all the splendour and resources which a great urban church like St Margaret’s, Lynn, could command. The Candlemas ceremonies were designed to summon up the scenes they commemorated, and the quest for the visionary vividness which made Margery unsteady on her feet lay behind the tendency in late medieval England to elaborate and make more explicit the representational and dramatic dimension of the liturgy. Duffy argues that the pre-Reformation Catholic Church was not as corrupt as some historians have believed. He also casts doubt on the belief that the Reformers performed valuable services by reviving a moribund church. If this interpretation is correct and if Anglican history needs re-examination, then, Eamon Duffy's book has important ramifications in the area of ecumenism. [6]