Ruling the Spirit. Claire Taylor Jones
or texts.”57 Rozenski points out not only that hearing something can incite a visionary experience for Seuse, but that within such visions he often imagines himself rapt outside his body to some insubstantial place of angelic performance, where he sings along or dances to the tune. Although the Servant often hears instrumental dance music, liturgical song appears just as often in visions of musical performance. In contrast to Tauler’s global interest in the devotional significance of liturgical feasts, Seuse uses particular liturgical texts as either inspirations for or explanations of visions which are often extracted from their context in the liturgical calendar.
Seuse’s liturgical visions share many of the characteristics and functions such narratives display in the sisterbooks, with two signal differences pertaining on the one hand, to the meaning they produce and on the other, to the time and location of their occurrence. As I will show in the following chapter, the sisterbooks deploy liturgical citations as part of complex visions which either explore theological concepts or perform a sister’s holiness by drawing her into association with a saint. Seuse prefers to use the genre of philosophical dialogue to tackle theological issues, but he does use liturgical visions to reflect on his own spiritual state or to communicate some devotional lesson. For example, Seuse recounts a curious nightmare in which he is selected as celebrant for Mass. Taking him by surprise, the choir sings an Introit of a Mass for martyrs.58
Die senger hůben an die messe von den martrern: Multae tribulationes justorum etc., daz da sait von menigvaltigem lidene gotesfrúnden. Daz horte er ungern und heti es gern gewendet und sprach also: ‘wafen, wes töbent ir úns mit den martrern? War zů singent ir hút von den martrern, und es hút enkaines martrers tag ist, den wir begangen?’ Sú sahen in an und zögtan mit den vingern uf in und sprachen: ‘got der vindet sin martrer hút an disem tage, als er sú ie vand. Berait dich núwan dur zů und sing fúr dich!’59
The singers began the Mass for Martyrs: Multae tribulationes justorum etc., which handles the multifarious suffering of the friends of God. He did not like hearing this and wanted to change it, so he said: “hey, why are you blasting away about the martyrs? What are you singing about martyrs for, when we are not celebrating any martyr’s feast?” They looked at him and pointed at him with their fingers and said: “God will find his martyr on this day as he ever found them. Prepare yourself for this alone and sing your own feast!”
Terrified by this prophecy, Seuse flips through the pages of the missal before him, seeking the feast of some confessor or anything else. When he sees that the missal contains nothing but martyrs, he resigns himself to his fate and accepts the suffering he knows will come. By singing a Mass for martyrs on his own behalf, Seuse interprets his own trials as martyrdom and assimilates the narrative of his own life to their hagiographic vitae. His self-castigation and his persecution at the hands of others are given both redemptive meaning and exemplary status through Seuse’s liturgical association with the Church’s martyrs.
As I will discuss in more depth in the following chapter, the sisterbooks also often deploy liturgical citations in order to reveal the spiritual state usually of a deceased sister. Seuse’s nightmare resembles in particular a dream granted to the Gotteszell sister Adelheit. She sees a recently deceased sister dressed in rich robes, emblazoned with liturgical passages from Offices for martyrs on the front and back: Qui vult venire post me and Qui mihi ministrat.60 The similarity of the episodes brings important differences sharply into focus. First of all, Seuse may arrogate to himself the honor due a martyr even before he has earned it. Dominican sisters, in contrast, usually must wait until after death for confirmation of their spiritual state. This difference makes manifest some of the dynamics of gendered power which increasingly meant that the only holy woman was a dead woman.61 Second, Seuse and the sisters experience the liturgy in different ways and with different intensities and therefore draw on different liturgical texts for their visions. The friar Seuse hears an Introit for a Mass at which he himself is meant to preside. The Gotteszell sister appears with the written texts of two antiphons for Lauds, that is, excerpts from the hours. Seuse’s vision of a martyr’s Mass is representative of his liturgical citations on the whole. Befitting his status as a friar and priest, Seuse tends to cite from the Mass more often than from the hours, which constituted the sisters’ liturgical focus and their primary source for visionary material. Comparing Seuse’s dream with a similar vision from the sisterbooks reveals significant manifestations of gender difference in access to saintly status and in experience of the liturgy. Seuse’s status as a male Dominican allows him to celebrate his own blessedness more openly and orients his use of liturgical material toward Mass texts over the hours. Nevertheless, the way in which Seuse reconfigures liturgical context to create meaning within his visions corresponds to the literary methods of the sisterbooks.
Arnold Angenendt has identified a further difference between Seuse’s use of liturgical material and that of the sisterbooks. Whereas the visions of the sisterbooks are often inspired by a liturgical performance during which they occur, Angenendt notes that Seuse’s visions have a sacramental character, and reproduce or reimagine liturgical celebrations but are detached from the performance itself. “Die erzielte Wirkung geschieht letztlich unabhängig von fester liturgischer Form, von sakraler Zeit und geweihtem Ort [The intended effect in the end is accomplished independently from strict liturgical form, from sacred time and holy place].”62 Instead of seeing angels appear during the Sanctus or Mary in response to the Salve regina, Seuse tends to envision heavenly liturgical celebrations during private contemplation. For example, the Servant experiences a vision while meditating between the first two Masses on Christmas.
Des liehten morgens, do man daz frölich gesang von dem veterlichen glanz der ewigen wisheit solt singen ze messe: Lux fulgebit, do waz der diener des morgens in siner kapell in ein stilles rüwli siner ussren sinnen komen. Do waz im vor in einer gesicht, wie er wurdi gefüret in einen kor, da man mess sang.63
On the morning when the joyful song about the paternal radiance of Eternal Wisdom, Lux fulgebit, should be sung at Mass, in the morning in his chapel the Servant came into a quiet silence of his outer senses. It appeared to him in a vision that he was led into a choir where Mass was being sung.
In meditating on the upcoming liturgical service, Seuse envisions celebrating it with an angelic choir that performs music of untold beauty. He sings the Sanctus along with them, but when the Benedictus qui venit begins, he is so overpowered by the beauty of the music that he can no longer stand and sinks to the floor. He comes to as his body hits the ground. Still entranced by the melody, Seuse approaches the altar while singing the angelic Benedictus to himself under his breath. Although Seuse attends a visionary Mass, in reality he is alone in the church and the second Christmas Mass has not yet begun. He sings a Sanctus with the angels but not with his fellow friars. Since he is alone during this experience, his fall and the noise he makes singing to himself do not disturb any communal liturgical celebration.
The fact that Seuse’s miraculous Mass and his uncontrollable response occur in between the communal celebrations on Christmas Day bears even greater significance than Angenendt ascribes to it. Namely, disruption of the communal liturgy by physical responses to divine experience proves a concern for both Tauler and Seuse. The majority of Seuse’s visions end because “der krank lip nit me moht erliden [his frail body could no longer endure it],”64 and he makes an involuntary physical gesture; for example, he sinks to his knees or places a hand over his heart, interrupting his prayer practice.65 Tauler also speaks of people who are “als úber gossen mit innerlicher fröide das der kranke licham die fröide nút enthalten enmag und bricht us mit eigener sunderlicher wise. Und tete er des nút, das blůt breche im lichte zů dem munde us [so overwhelmed by inner joy that the sick body cannot contain the joy and breaks out in strange ways. And if it did not, blood would probably pour out of the mouth].”66 The overwhelming experience of divine joy results in actual physical pressure, which the body will purge in another way if it is not released through cries and wild laughter. Excessive spiritual experience overwhelms the soul and bursts out from the body in jubilation,67 interrupting contemplative prayer or, worse, disrupting the communal liturgy.
These outbursts represent a correlative or even a consequence of the