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2007/10/13

Constantinian Christian

Centurionum:
 
We got to discussing politics and religion a bit around the coffee pot yesterday. I joked with my comrades about some of the candidates, and then departed characterizing myself as a Constantinian Christian. I don't think I'd ever done that before. I decided to look it up and came upon the interesting page on the history behind it from the Christian History Institute. Gospel net... not too different than the history we have on our Order's pages.
 
 
and from this page.... on Post-Constantine Christianity a hymn from Spain and art that also appears on our pages 
 
 
Prudentius, "Hymn for All Hours," Cathemerinon IX (translation from the Loeb Classic series volume of texts by Prudentius)
see more on the Order's Hymnal
 
Let me chant in sacred numbers, as I strike each sounding string,
Chant in sweet, melodious anthems, glorious deeds of Christ our King:
He, my Muse, shall be thy story: with His praise my lyre shall ring.
When the king in priestly raiment sang the Christ that was to be,
Voice and lute and clashing cymbal joined in joyous harmony,
While the Spirit, heaven-descended, touched his lips to prophecy....
Of the Father's heart begotten, ere the world from chaos rose,
He is Alpha; from that Fountain all that is and hath been flows:
He is Omega, of all things yet to come the mystic Close.
By His word was all create; He commands and lo! 'tis done;
Earth and sky and boundless ocean, universe of three in one,
All that sees the moon's soft radiance, all that breathes beneath the sun....
But, while God with golden glory floods the murky realms of night,
And upon the startled shadows dawns a day serene and bright,
In the darkened vault of heaven stars forlorn refuse their light.
For the sun in garb of mourning veiled his radiant orb and passed
From his flaming path in sorrow, hiding till mankind aghast
Deemed that o'er a world of chaos Night's eternal pall was cast.
Now, my soul, in liquid measures let the sounding numbers flow;
 

Sing the trophy of His passion, sing the Cross triumphant now;
Sing the ensign of Christ's glory, marked on every faithful brow.
Ah! How wondrous was the fountain flowing from His pierced side,
Whence the blood and water mingled in a strange and sacred tide--
Water, sign of mystic cleansing; blood, the martyr's crown of pride.
In that hour the ancient Serpent saw the holy Victim slain,
Saw, and shed his hate envenomed, all his malice spent in vain;
See! The hissing neck is broken as he writhes in sullen pain.
Christ, our Captain, for a season deigned to dwell in Death's domain,
That the dead, long time imprisoned, might return to life again,
Breaking by His great example ancient sins' enthralling chain....
Then, mankind to life restoring, Death downtrodden 'neath His feet,
Lo! The Victor mounts triumphant to the Father's judgment-seat,
Bringing back to heaven the glory by His passion made complete.
Hail! Thou Judge of souls departed: hail! Of all the living King!
On the Father's right hand throned, through His courts Thy praises ring,
Till at last for all offences righteous judgment Thou shalt bring....
 
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Christ the King emerges as a specific symbol after Constantine. The church is elevated in the eyes of the world. In the Chapel of the Centurion there is a cross with an icon of Christ the King, bearing a crown and in priestly garb. Perhaps this, along with images like Christ Militant, signify the Constantinian Christian.
 
Mark xP

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