At the heart of it all is the eucharistic action, a thing of absolute simplicity—the taking, blessing, breaking and giving
of bread and the taking, blessing and giving of a cup of wine and water, as these were first done with their new meaning
by a young Jew before and after supper with His friends on the night before He died. He had told his friends to do this
henceforward with the new meaning “for theanamnesis” of Him, and they have done it always since.
Was ever another command so obeyed? For century after century, spreading slowly to every continent and country and
among every race on earth, this action has been done, in every conceivable human circumstance, for every conceivable
human need from infancy and before it to extreme old age and after it, from the pinnacles of earthly greatness to the
refuge of fugitives in the caves and dens of the earth.
Men have found no better thing than this to do for kings at their crowning and for criminals going to the scaffold;
for armies in triumph or for a bride and bridegroom in a little country church; for the proclamation of a dogma or
for a good crop of wheat; for the wisdom of the Parliament of a mighty nation or for a sick old woman afraid to die;
for a schoolboy sitting an examination or for Columbus setting out to discover America; for the famine of whole
provinces or for the soul of a dead lover; in thankfulness because my father did not die of pneumonia; for a village
headman much tempted to return to fetish because the yams had failed; because the Turk was at the gates of Vienna;
for the repentance of Margaret; for the settlements of a strike; for a son for a barren woman; for Captain so-and-so,
wounded and prisoner of war; while the lions roared in the nearbyamphitheatre; on the beach at Dunkirk; while the
hiss of scythes in the thick June grass came faintly through the windows of the church; tremulously, by an old monk
on the fiftieth anniversary of his vows; furtively, by an exiled bishop who had hewed timber all day in a prison camp
near Murmansk; gorgeously, for the canonisation of S. Joan of Arc—one could fill many pages with the reasons why
men have done this, and not tell a hundredth part of them. And best of all, week by week and month by month, on a
hundred thousand successive Sundays, faithfully, unfailingly, across all parishes of Christendom, the pastors have done
this just to make theplebs sancta Dei—the holy common people of God.
Dom Gregory Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy,
London, 1945, p. 743
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