The five settings for the Divine Service in Lutheran Service Book have each retained the Sanctus, to the credit of each, although Setting Five prefers Luther’s “Isaiah, Mighty Seer in Days of Old,” being patterned itself after Luther’s Deutsche Messe.

But even Luther’s hymn, fine as it is, misses something important, something I believe to be integral to what makes this canticle so brilliant. I think It would be better to use that hymn during the distribution or in some other way, since it is a commentary on the vision of Isaiah that comprises only the first part of the Sanctus, and not the second part.

The traditional Sanctus has two parts. The first is from Isaiah 6: “Holy, holy, holy Lord God of Sabaoth. Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory.” The second part, following immediately, is from St. Luke 21, the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem: “Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest! Blessed is He, Blessed is He, Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”

What makes the Sanctus so helpful is the immediate juxtaposition of these sections one after the other. For the first, from Isaiah, declares in no uncertain terms the majesty of God. In the vision, Isaiah declared in fear that he was undone. He became keenly aware that he, being of unclean lips, had no right to be before the throne of Almighty God. The lintels shook and smoke filled the house. Majesty. But the second part, from Matthew 21, is a description of Christ’s humility. He enters Jerusalem on a donkey, meekly, determined to suffer for the sin of the world. These two passages, sung together as one, have the effect of making us keenly aware of who Jesus is: the Incarnate God in his humility. The one riding humbly on a donkey is himself the one before whose throne Isaiah trembled. He is no less than the Creator himself, humbling himself for us.

The high Christology here is underscored by the repetition of hosanna and blessed is he three times each, though the Gospel itself does not do that. But in Isaiah’s vision, there are in fact three holies. So whoever put the Sanctus together—and I don’t know that it’s even possible to know who that is, since it comes from the misty past—had a clear conception of the fact that Jesus, in spite of his great humility and passion, remained at the same time no less than the Son of God himself in the flesh: here is one indivisible Person in two natures. The humble Christ is no less God of God, Light of Light, Very God of Very God.

The clarity of this confession is precisely what is needed as we prepare to receive the Holy Sacrament, for like the crowds lining the streets in Jerusalem, we too need to be fully cognizant that the one who comes to us humbly is no less than our God in the flesh. The simplicity of his appearance on the donkey’s back parallels the simplicity of the bread and wine here given for us to eat and drink. For the bread is his very Body and the wine his true Blood, given and shed for us, for the forgiveness of sins. And when we receive them here, in a marvelous way that words can scarce express, the very Body and Blood of the eternal Son of God, our Creator, sit on our tongues.