Amen and Alleluia have been recited by saints and sinners throughout the centuries. These two phrases have accompanied words of hope, joy, sorrow, and praise, expressed countless times by Christians, reminding us that we should trust the Lord - he is with us always.
Amen and Alleluia have been recited by saints and sinners throughout the centuries. These two phrases have accompanied words of hope, joy, sorrow, and praise, expressed countless times by Christians, reminding us that we should trust the Lord – he is with us always. We say and sing them constantly during the Mass and the Liturgy of the Hours. Their meaning transcends time and is far greater than any single utterance; their continual use is testimony to the significance they hold. Through time Catholic liturgy has been celebrated in Aramaic, Greek and Latin, and then in our own native languages, but in our 2,000 years history, these words have never been translated.
Amen
Pope Benedict described the shortest and most frequently used word in the Liturgy as: “The incarnation of Jesus Christ is God’s ‘Yes’ to mankind and the fulfilment of all his promises and that through Jesus we say our ‘Amen,’ to the glory of God.”
The two Books of Chronicles date back over 400 years BC and here Amen is used as a response to a blessing: Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting. Then all the people said “Amen” and “Praise the Lord. 1 Chronicles 16:36.
The Hebrew meaning of Amen is ‘so be it,’ sometimes translated as ‘verily’ or ‘truly.’ Jewish Law required it to be used as a response to oaths and blessings in a variety of settings. It is used in Islam in the same way.
In the Old Testament Amen appears up to 30 times, to affirm statements, blessings, and prayers. It is a word of steadfastness, and faith. A two-fold Amen is found in the psalms; ‘Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting. Amen and Amen.’ Psalm 41:13.
In the New Testament, Amen is used more frequently. Jesus himself would have grown up using it in the synagogue. As an adult, he spoke it in a new way, using it to begin sentences: “Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and will do greater ones than these, because I am going to the Father” John 14:12. When Jesus did this, he was emphasising an absolute spiritual truth and was signifying that the listener should pay attention.
In the Book of Revelation, the Heavenly Jerusalem is revealed through the visions of St John. It is a liturgy to which we should aspire. Our earthly liturgy should always strive to reflect the song of the angels and saints: All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshipped God, saying:
Amen! Praise and glory
and wisdom and thanks and honour
and power and strength
be to our God for ever and ever.
Amen!”
Revelation 7:11-12
At the end of the Book of Revelation, many translations of the Bible conclude with the word ‘Amen!’
The Early Christian Church soon embraced Amen. Justin Martyr gives the first account of it being used in a liturgical setting; gathering in domestic houses to celebrate Eucharist, the faithful joined in and assented to the prayers of the bishop with their ‘Amen.’
The martyrdom of St Polycarp in AD 155 is a detailed and dramatic account. Both during his capture and then at his martyrdom, the 86-year-old Turkish bishop was allowed by his executioners to pray (such was the esteem in which he was held). He was allowed to say his ‘Amen’ before his death: I give you thanks that you count me worthy to be numbered among your martyrs, sharing the cup of Christ and the resurrection to eternal life… May I be received this day as an acceptable sacrifice… To you, with him, through the Holy Ghost, be glory both now and forever. Amen.
The voice of the faithful in the liturgy was restored thanks to Vatican II. There are now at least 11 Amens in the Mass and two of them deserve particular attention: firstly, there is what Justin Martyr would have recognised, and what we call the ‘Great Amen.’ It concludes the Doxology at the end of the Eucharistic Prayer. Secondly the Amen we say when we receive Communion.
The Great Amen comes alive when we sing it; music has the power to elevate words beyond everyday experience. It is our response to the source and summit of the Eucharist; it is our participation in the truth that Christ is now present in the form of bread and wine; it is the Mystical Body joining together in one voice, saying ‘so be it,’ ‘it is true.’ The doxology by default, should be proclaimed with great joy and praise and its Amen needs an equal response. But we must mean it.
Our ‘Great Amen!’ should be resounding just as the early saints and martyrs understood it’s power. In the fourth century, St. Jerome reported that, in Rome, when the Great Amen was proclaimed, all the pagan temples trembled” (54-55)[1]. “…where else can we see so fervid a concourse to the churches and the tombs of the martyrs? Where does the ‘Amen’ thus resound like the thunder of heaven, and shake the temples of the idols?”
The Communion Amen is different in character. It is a personal response to receiving the Lord. St Augustine’s instructions are as relevant now as they were in the early church: “Believe what you see, see what you believe and become what you are: the Body of Christ. You are the body of Christ and its members… You say ‘Amen’ to what you are and in saying ‘Amen’ you subscribe to it. For you hear the words ‘The body of Christ’ and you answer ‘Amen’. Be members of the body of Christ then, so that your ‘Amen’ might be authentic.”
We say Amen so frequently, that it can lose its potency. It has become a throwaway word, its recitation, lacklustre or muttered quietly under our breath. The Early Christians would be mystified at our lack of enthusiasm. We would do well to regain some of their fervour and resound like the thunder of heaven in faithful confidence.
Alleluia
A Christian must be an Alleluia from head to foot. St Augustine
Alleluia is so perfect in its original form, that it has never been translated. It means ‘Praise the Lord.’ It exudes a sense of joy, delight, and exaltation. We are recognising the goodness of God and telling him how he is good. (Alleluia is the liturgical form of Hallelujah).
In the Jewish tradition, Hellel (praise) and Yah (Yahweh) are used frequently in Psalms 113-118 which are known as the ‘Hallel’ psalms recited on Jewish holidays and other festive occasions. Alleluia appears throughout the Book of Psalms but is particularly used in Psalm 150. It is called the “hallelujah psalm” because it is filled with repeated calls to praise God. These psalms may have been recited by Christ on the night of the Last Supper as they formed part of the Passover ritual.
In the New Testament Alleluia only appears in the Book of Revelation. The angels sing four mighty, dramatic Alleluias which sound like the roar of a large crowd: ‘Alleluia! Salvation and glory and honour and power belong to the Lord our God!’ Revelation 19:1. It also inspired Handel to write the Hallelujah Chorus to conclude his famous choral work – the ‘Messiah’.
It took a while for Alleluia to be used widely in the liturgy. It appeared in the liturgies of Jerusalem, then Pope Damasus (d. AD 384) included it as a regular part of the Mass. Originally it was part of the Easter Season, but Pope Gregory widened its use to the whole year. From that point we have a rich history of its liturgical use and in its relationship with music. Singing Alleluia became very popular. St Jerome praised mothers who taught their babies to say Alleluia as their first word; farmers, tradesmen and Roman oarsmen sang it as they worked. St Augustine said, ‘let Alleluia be our sweet rowing song!’ Bishop Apollinaris (c. AD 390) who was a poet, said that the riverbanks and shores of Gaul resounded with the Alleluia song of the boatmen. Roman soldiers sang it as a battle song and the Venerable Bede reported that Christian Bretons sang an ‘Alleluia victory’ in their defeat of the Picts and the Scots.
The tradition of omitting Alleluia during Lent dates to the 5th century in the West although in the Eastern Orthodox Tradition, far from being omitted it is sung more often. Orthodox prayers and liturgies for the dead also use Alleluia to beautiful effect:
Deacon: Blessed are they whom Thou hast chosen and taken unto Thyself, O Lord.
Choir: Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.
Deacon: Their memory is from generation to generation.
Choir: Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.
Omitting the Alleluia during Lent is a dynamic way of preserving its energy. (Maybe we should refrain from ‘Amen’ to revive its meaning as well.) On Holy Saturday, along with the Paschal Light and baptismal water, Alleluia returns with a vibrancy and freshness that brings the liturgy alive. And that is exactly what it is supposed to do. How amazing that one word can convey so much joy and exultation. Alleluia should always be the song of the people.
In ‘Dogma and Preaching’, Cardinal Ratzinger (then Pope Benedict XIV) wrote:
Singing indicates that the person is passing beyond the boundaries of the merely rational and falling into a kind of ecstasy; the merely rational he can express in ordinary language now singing finds its climactic form in the Alleluia, the song in which the very essence of all song achieves its purest embodiment.
[1] St. Jerome, Commentary on Galatians II, vol. 7, 427 (A.D. 381).
