Panis Angelicus: The Eucharist through the Ages

The Sunday Gospel during August 2012 is from John 6, Jesus’ Bread of Life discourse. It provides an excellent opportunity for homilists to preach on the Eucharist. On August 12, in support of the theme of his homily, my pastor, Father Dave Gutmann, requested “Panis Angelicus,” composed by Cesar Franck in 1872.

Franck was a 19th century musician and composer who was a contemporary of Franz Liszt and Camille Saint-Saens. Renowned for his influence in France on the development and performance of the pipe organ, Franck’s compositions are considered classics that laid the foundation for the French symphonic organ style. Although his body of work is considerable, Franck is perhaps best known today for his motet setting of “Panis Angelicus,” a text originally composed by Saint Thomas Aquinas as part of his Corpus Christi hymn, “Sacris Solemniis.”

“Panis Angelicus,” was a popular hymn for the World War II generation and, during the 1940s and 1950s, it could be heard at almost every wedding. As this generation has aged, the hymn has made a resurgence as a devotional song for funeral liturgies. Its stirring melody and harmonization perfectly capture the heart of Cesar Franck’s devout Catholic faith. Here is a duet performance by the great tenor, Luciano Pavarotti, and rock star Sting — of all people!

Several generations have been inspired by “Panis Angelicus” but, because of the Latin text, they might not be fully aware of its meaning. There are many loose English translations but few that match the nuances of the melody. This translation attempts to do just that:

O Bread of Heaven*
To mortals given,
Come fill our hungry souls,
Give strength and make us whole.

O Most Miraculous,
You have come down to us,
Lowly, lowly,
Though we your servants be;
Lowly, lowly,
Though we your servants be.

*Although “Panis Angelicus” literally means “Bread of Angels,” it is translated here as “Bread of Heaven” to preserve the rhyme scheme.

My parish, Holy Trinity Church in Beaverton, Oregon, is known for its leanings toward contemporary liturgical music, but we do take care to respect and incorporate the music of all eras in the Church’s history. For example, our choirs (both adult and youth) sing Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Our Desiring” and Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus” during the Easter season. We also sing the chant “Agnus Dei” during Lent and “Pange Lingua Gloriosi” on Holy Thursday, among other such traditional pieces.

I am a firm believer that the richness of the Church’s repertoire needs to be handed on to the next generation. If young people think that liturgical music only consists of the current contemporary style, then we have done them a great disservice. I also believe that traditional music can coexist beautifully with contemporary music at the liturgy. I know that might be an awkward pairing for people who prefer one style or the other. But why does it have to be either/or? Why can’t it be both/and? For a great model of that, just look at Pavarotti and Sting!

On the weekend of August 11-12, for the Presentation and Preparation of the Gifts, Mark Nieves, our parish Director of Music Ministry, sang “Panis Angelicus” as a solo while I accompanied on piano. Mark is a brilliant tenor, and his moving realization touched the hearts of all who were at our liturgies. I felt privileged to accompany him on the performance of this song.

There is a theory in music that a performer or composer taps into a deep well and draws sweet water for the audience to drink. In sacred music, I believe this is the deep well of the Holy Spirit. Last Sunday, as I played “Panis Angelicus,” that water was very sweet indeed. I became prayerfully engaged in the struggles and devotion of Cesar Franck. I thought about the poetry of Saint Thomas Aquinas, and how he so eloquently expressed the mystery of the Holy Eucharist. I thought about Jesus who, in his humility, became human and accepted death that we might live. And, in an amazing act of divine imagination, he humbled himself again in the signs of bread and wine to become the nourishment of our souls.

As I performed the exquisite final outro to “Panis Angelicus,” I felt a deep connection with the Eucharist through the ages. It was an emotional and prayerful experience, and it awakened in me a deeper appreciation for God’s love. The Bread of Angels has nourished humanity for over two millennia. O res mirabilis!