Parsifal: A Christian's View
 (part 1 of 2)
Presented to the Wagner Society of Washington DC, September 2000

by Lou Santacroce

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Link to Part 2 of this talk.

The title of this lecture is "A Christian's View of 'Parsifal.'" My name is Lou Santacroce, and I'm the Christian in question. That is, I don't pretend to speak for any other Christian or for any group of Christians on the subject of Wagner and "Parsifal." But, I do believe I can speak for most Christians when I say that, in general, we reject out of hand the philosophy of Arthur Schopenhauer, as I believed Wagner did when he sensed that his life was drawing to a close.

Schopenhauer's outlook on life was extremely pessimistic. To understand just how pessimistic is was, try listening to one of comedian George Carlin's recent monologues, or perhaps an album by shock-rocker Marilyn Manson. According to this trio, existence is meaningless, suffering is the norm, and pleasure is defined only as the absence of pain. The idea that anyone would want to live is reprehensible, and we should all seek extinction through denial of the will, or the self. For Schopenhauer, this state of extinction is actually what the Buddhists call "nirvana," the cessation of individual existence; the death of self. Schopenhauer believed that this was the only way that one could live in the absence of a personal God, and he did not believe that one exists.

As a Christian, I cannot see the sense in this. Only with a real, personal God leading the way would I want to "die to self," and then only so that Jesus may live in me. I believe that Wagner came to a similar conclusion near the end of his life, and that "Parsifal" is a statement of his belief in redemption attained through belief in Jesus Christ, the savior and redeemer.

But, as a younger man, I believe that Wagner bought into Schopenhauer's philosophy hook, line, and sinker. He first read Schopenhauer's magnum opus, The World As Will and Representation, in September or October of 1854. He read it three more times during the next year, and returned to it again and again throughout his life, discussing and recommending it to friends and acquaintances at the drop of a hat. Cosima Wagner's diaries make reference to Schopenhauer nearly 300 times between 1869 and Wagner's death in 1883. The only subjects mentioned more frequently are Cosima's anti-Semitic harangues and all of the minutiae pertaining to Wagner himself. The impact of Schopenhauer's philosophy on Wagner's later works is so great that it almost defies description. Most scholars, aficionados, and just plain fans who have read Schopenhauer agree that the ending of the Ring Cycle bears the mark of his influence, and many trace the entire idea and language of Tristan back to him. But, I believe that the impact of Schopenhauer's philosophy on Wagner and his music dramas ends where the first notes of "Parsifal" begin. I believe the text of "Parsifal" shows that Wagner finally rejected Schopenhauer's philosophy of pessimism and embraced the concept of a personal, intimate relationship with Jesus Christ. To use the words that Frederic Nietzche wrote in contempt of his former friend: Wagner, at the end of his life, sank "helpless and broken before the Christian cross."

The aspect of Schopenhauer's philosophy that Wagner did not abandon was the part which states that music is the ultimate form of expression, and that the union of words and music produces in the listener a depth of emotion that dwarfs the limits of either form by itself. Wagner's perspective on this subject did change over the years. In fact, in his essay "The Artwork of the Future," he was willing to make occasional allowances for spoken dialogue in opera. But, beginning with Die Walkure, his music dramas show an increasing propensity to elevate music above the words, a propensity that reaches its pinnacle in "Parsifal." Of course, having said that, I will not be speaking another word about the music of "Parsifal" for the entire evening.

What I will be speaking about is my belief that "Parsifal" is a Christian mystery play whose text is deeply rooted in the Bible, and that - with his final work - Wagner returned to the Christian faith in which he had been raised. The Book of Proverbs says "Train a child up in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." That's the first of many scriptures I'll be referring to tonight. But, I want to assure you that, while I may preach a bit, I won't be giving an altar call at the end of the evening.

Most of us know that Wagner made a serious study of the New Testament, and was inspired enough by what he read to write a prose treatment of a projected opera on the life of Jesus. As for the Old Testament...well, according to Cosima's diaries, he once skimmed through it over a period of three days, pronounced it "rubbish," and never bothered with it again. The problem with this story is that the libretto of "Parsifal" shows a familiarity with the Old Testament that goes beyond what could be gained through a cursory skimming. Although Jesus and the New Testament writers often quote passages from the Old Testament, none of those quotations can be linked to the references made in "Parsifal." One of the things we sometimes forget is the extent to which the entire Bible was a part of everyday life in Christian countries a century-and-a-half ago, so much so that people often quoted from it without even realizing that they were quoting scripture. Wagner may not have been a model Christian, but he was brought up in the Christian faith. He was also a Kappellmeister -- a chapel-master -- as well as a conductor. He attended services almost daily while living in Dresden -- Catholic services, by the way -- and conducted a Psalm at every one. Since Old Testament readings are often part of the Catholic liturgy, he would have heard them during these services as well. Still, Wagner could not have acquired his knowledge of some Old Testament passages through these experiences, since his version of the grail legend makes references to scriptures that are not used in the standard Catholic liturgy. So, I believe Wagner knew the Old Testament better than he wanted to let on. Or maybe better than Cosima wanted to let on, since our information on Wagner's rejection of that part of the Bible seems to come from her alone. Personally, I think that either Wagner lied to Cosima, in order to head off accusations of "Jewish influences" by a woman who appears to have been even MORE anti-Semitic than her husband, or Cosima -- who certainly knew that her diaries would eventually be published -- lied in many of her entries, in order to preserve an image of her husband that included the rejection of anything even remotely Jewish. And there is certainly nothing more Jewish than the Old Testament.

Let's take a look, now, at the major characters in "Parsifal," in light of both the Old and New Testaments, and see what we can make of them in light of what I regard as the Christian message of Wagner's "stage consecrating festival music drama." And let's begin with the central character of the opera: the grail.

While "Parsifal" retains parts of the pagan legends that Wagner gleaned from Wolfram von Eschenbach and others, he gives the grail attributes which transform it into, not just a symbol of Christianity, but an example of the continuing presence of the resurrected Jesus among men. For Wagner, the grail represents this presence, just as -- according to the book of Hebrews -- Jesus Himself represents "the radiance of God's glory...sustaining all things by His powerful word." Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, refers to Jesus, in part, as "He who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine," and time after time in the gospels, we see examples of how Jesus not only provided for His followers, but provided in abundance. At one point in the gospels, He sends the disciples out to do some missionary work, telling them to "take nothing for the journey," no food, no money, not even a pair of sandals to wear. He gives them the same supernatural powers that He possesses, and sends them on their way. When they return, He asks, rhetorically, whether any of them wanted for anything during the trip. No one lacked anything, physically or spiritually. They returned well fed and successful, marveling that "even the demons are subject to us in your name."

On two occasions during His ministry, Jesus feeds thousands of His followers from a supply of bread and fish so meager that -- under natural circumstances -- would have made little more than a light lunch for Himself and His twelve disciples. By blessing the loves and fishes, and giving thanks to God -- whom, the scriptures say, "supplies all of our needs according to His riches in glory" -- five loaves and two sardines are supernaturally multiplied into such an abundance of food that "They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over." (Matt. 14:20) Later, Jesus feeds another group of four thousand in the same manner, using seven loaves of bread and a few small fish and, once again, "the people ate and were satisfied; and afterward the disciples picked up seven basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over." (Mark 8:8)

Jesus provides spiritual sustenance to His followers, again using supernatural means, and again in the same large portions. For example, when his disciples ask Him the meaning of the parables that He has been using to teach the multitudes, He gives them much more than they ask for, saying "The knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of God has been given to you, but to others, I speak in parables." (Luke 8:10). Then, He "opens the minds [of the disciples], so they could understand the scriptures." (Luke 24:45) At least twice in the gospels, Jesus responds to a request for an increase in spiritual understanding by granting it; once when the disciples ask Him to "Increase our faith," (Luke 17:5) and again when a man who isn't quite sure that Jesus can heal his son, pleads in desperation, "I do believe! Help me overcome my unbelief." (Mark 9:24) Being God in the flesh, or, as Hebrews says, "the exact representation of His being," Jesus is able accomplish all that we ask and more than we can even imagine merely by speaking it into being. The centurion who asks Jesus to heal his servant -- and whose words of faith words were part of the Catholic communion liturgy when I was growing up -- states it succinctly when he tells Jesus, "Just speak the word, and my servant will be healed."

Like Jesus, the grail provides both physical and spiritual sustenance to its adherents, using supernatural means. During the great narrative in Act One, Gurnemanz reminds the young squires that they are "strengthened for salvation's highest works by the grail's wondrous power." Later, when he offers to lead Parsifal "to the Holy Meal" -- the reenactment of the Last Supper, which Jesus commanded His followers to perform in remembrance of Him -- he assures the boy that "if you are pure, the grail will give you food and drink." During the ceremony itself, the knights testify first to the grail's power to sustain physically when they sing "Take of the bread/Change it boldly into body's power and strength." This is immediately followed by their acknowledgement that the grail provides spiritual sustenance as well: "True unto death/Steadfast in labor, to do the Savior's works." Finally, the knights sing of how physical and spiritual sustenance are united as one: "Take of the wine/Change it anew into fiery blood of life/Gladly united/Brotherly true/To fight with valor blessed!/Blessed in faith and love."

[I should point out here that the sustenance provided by the grail is tangible. It does not sustain life by making it possible for the body to survive without actual food, the way that some Indian "holy men" are said to do. Remember that -- in Act Three, Gurnemanz tells Parsifal that -- having been deprived of the grail ceremony -- the knights must now forage for roots and berries in order to survive. This tells us that the grail did, indeed, provide actual food and drink. Further proof is provided in that same passage, again by Gurnemanz, when he goes on to say that the knights learned how to forage by observing the forest animals. Not only had they lived on tangible food, but that food had always been provided for them. Only when deprived of the grail ceremony did they have to learn how to provide for themselves. Deprived of the grail, the knights are no longer bolstered by spiritual food either, and -- in stark contrast to the days when the knights were often called "To fight with honor blessed," Gurnemanz now reports that "No message ever comes for us/No call to Holy Wars." Of course, the return of Parsifal and the resumption of the grail ceremony sets everything right again.]

The life of a disciple is that of a renunciate. Jesus tells His followers that "If anyone would come after Me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me," (Matt. 16:24) and again, "any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple." (Luke 14:33)In fact, whenever Jesus encounters someone who says he wants to follow Him, the first thing He does is remind the potential follower that God's path is one of continual self-denial. "If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters -- yes, even his own life -- he cannot be My disciple."

[Now, of course, all sensible students of the Bible agree that Jesus did not use the word "hate" the way we do today. In fact, it would be more accurate to quote Him here as saying, "Anyone who loves anything more than they love Me cannot follow Me."] Jesus demands total commitment, even unto death, saying: "whoever does not carry his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me." At the same time, He promises great rewards for those who choose the way of the cross, saying "No one who has left home or wife or brothers or parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God will fail to receive many times as much in this age and, in the age to come, eternal life." (Luke 18:29-30)

Just as those who would follow Jesus must deny themselves and take up their cross to follow Him, so service to the grail demands self-denial and holiness. The guardians of the grail live apart from the rest of humanity in an isolated castle. They appear to spend most of their time in prayer, as they wait for messages that call them to Holy Wars; although, since the wounding of Amfortas, at least one of them -- Gwain -- leaves the castle in search of remedies "laboriously won." And although Amfotas chastises him in abstentia for riding out without leave in search of still more balms to ease the king's pain, Gwain's actions are in keeping with both a servant of the grail and a follower of Jesus; he denies himself in order to serve others. But, it is also a sign that order is beginning to break down in the grail kingdom. This breakdown reaches its apex in the third act, with the knights foraging individually for food, rather than as a group, and when they show their contempt for Amfortas by talking derisively about him in his presence, as if he isn't there.

Here, however, there is one significant difference between fellowship with Jesus and service to the grail. Although Jesus -- and later Paul -- repeatedly reminds His followers to abstain from sexual immorality, He does not require His followers to be celibate. Total abstinence, however, is required of anyone who would serve the grail. During the Act One narrative -- in which we learn Wagner's version of the grail's history -- Gurnemanz reminds his young squires that "Only to the pure is it granted to join the brothers," and his reference to Klingsor's attempt to atone for "the sin within" by "laying the hand of violence upon himself," leaves little doubt as to the definition of purity in the grail kingdom. And any lingering doubt that this is, indeed, the case should be erased by Act Two, when Kundry taunts the self-made eunuch with the only words that can get a rise out of him when she asks, "Are you chaste?"

The requirement that the knights of the grail practice celibacy didn't originate with Wagner, of course; it goes all the way back to Medieval times. The early church developed the erroneous idea that Eve alone was to blame for the fall of humanity, its subsequent banishment from the Garden of Eden, and the curse of having to live apart from God. The result was a belief in the concept of women as inherently demonic creatures, who stayed up nights thinking of ways to separate men from God. A council of cardinals was even held during the 14-th century to determine whether women were even HUMAN! They declared human by one vote. Nonetheless, celibacy was the rule for the renunciate back then, just as it is for many today -- for different reasons, in most cases. And, although Wagner did not regard women as sub-human, it's easy to see why he found the requirement of celibacy so appealing. We all know that Wagner's ultimate heroes are usually those who sacrifice everything for some higher good. Most of them do this by dying: Elizabeth's death redeems Tannhauser, Senta's suicide redeems the Dutchman, Brunhilde's immolation ends the corrupt government of Valhalla. Even Hans Sachs sacrifices his love for Eva and helps Walther win the song contest, so that the lovers can marry and help preserve the higher cause of "Holy German Art." What greater sacrifice could there be -- to a sexual profligate like Wagner -- than to abstain from sex altogether, in order to serve the greatest of greater goods? Also, for the Wagner who, nearing the end of his life, "collapses weeping and broken before the cross," it would be important to make a statement of faith that includes a repudiation of that profligacy. Now, we all know that Wagner died of a heart attack brought on by a violent argument with his wife over the impending visit of a woman with whom he was probably having an affair. But, the fact that he apparently did not practice what he preached in "Parsifal" is immaterial. A popular bumper sticker reminds us that "Christians aren't perfect; just forgiven." Like Paul, Wagner could say "...what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing. Now, if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it." (Ro. 7:19-20)

Jesus often issues prophecies to His disciples, as well as to the multitudes that follow after them. He also instructs the disciples in right living, and gives them training for the ministries they will assume following his crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. Just a couple of illustrations here, because -- really -- all four Gospels are chock-full of examples. The 24-th chapter of Matthew's gospel is devoted entirely to Jesus' prophecy of the things that will happen before He returns to earth for the final judgement. We're all familiar with the Sermon On the Mount, (Matthew 5, 6, & 7) in which He gives a series of instructions on how to live a Godly life. And, when Jesus sends His 12 disciples out on their first missionary journey, His instructions cover every aspect of the trip: go to THESE villages, preach THIS message, perform THESE miracles...even down to what to take -- or more accurately, what NOT to take -- with them on the expedition: "Do not take any gold, or silver, or copper in your belts...take no bag for the journey, or extra tunic, or sandals, or staff." He even gives them instructions on how to find lodging, and what to do if lodging is refused." In fact, to quote a minister friend, "Jesus knows exactly where He wants us to go, what He wants us to do, and how He wants us to do it."

One of the ways the grail provides spiritual sustenance is through the prophecies and instructions that appear as writing on its surface. At the conclusion of his narrative, Gurnemanz tells us about one of those writings, and because the squires show no surprise at hearing this, we may assume that this is not the first time that the grail has spoken: "Before the deserted shrine/In fervent prayer Amfortas lay/Beseeching a sign of deliverance./A blessed radiance flowed then from the grail/A holy vision now clearly speaks to him/By signs of words brightly beheld/'By his pity knowing, the pure fool/Wait for him whom I have chosen.'"

By the way, this part of the narrative also tells us that Amfortas is not condemned for his transgression with Kundry. First, because he started out with pure motives; he set out to destroy Klingsor's kingdom, not to defile himself by breaking his vow of celibacy. Secondly, he is repentant. Therefore, his prayer for healing will be answered, and he will be redeemed, although he will not be allowed to continue his office as grail king. But, we'll get to that later.

During His ministry on earth, Jesus proclaims Himself "the way, the truth, and the life," and reminds us that "no one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6) At the same time, He declares that "No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent me draws him." (John 6:44) In fact, the entire Bible is replete with references to those who are singled out -- or chosen -- by God for a specific purpose. The Jews are His "chosen people;" He tells the prophet Jeremiah that, "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; before you were born, I set you apart;" (Jeremaih 1:5) Moses is chosen as the man who will lead Israel out of Egypt, and God will not relent from that decision in spite of his protests that he is slow of speech, etc. Jesus has about 70 followers when He goes up on a mountain and spends the night praying. When He emerges the next morning, He has whittled the number down to twelve, each chosen for specific tasks that will become evident after His death and resurrection. Even after His assertion into Heaven, he singles out the Pharisee Saul, who becomes known as Paul, for special service. Paul, in his letters, continually refers to him self as one who has been "chosen" or "called" to his ministry. The book of Acts records the election of a 13-th disciple, Matthias; he is chosen by casting dice, but Luke makes it clear that the roll of those dice is controlled by God Himself. And, as if to finally hammer home the point that no one can have a part in the ministry of Jesus unless they are specifically called to it, the book of Acts records what happened when a group of brothers who were NOT called tried to set themselves up as ministers of the gospel. Acts 19 records the story of the seven sons of Sceva, a Jewish high priest, who apparently tried to set themselves up in the business of exorcising evil spirits by casting them out "in the name of the Jesus whom Paul preaches." One day, they come upon a rather contrary spirit, who answers this incantation with, "Jesus I know, and I know about Paul, but who are you?" and proceeds to beat the devil out of all seven of the brothers.

It could be argued that Wagner forgot about Paul's adenum to Jesus' statement: the reminder that God "wants all men to be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth." But the grail, like Jesus, calls some to a special kind of service, and sets them apart for that service. When Parsifal asks, "Who is the grail?", Gurnemanz replies "If you are the chosen one, the knowledge will not escape you...no way leads through the land to it/And no one could find it/Save the grail leads him here." Those who are not called to that service, but insist on trying anyway, will ultimately fail. In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul writes, "It was He who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, some to be pastors and teachers..." (Ephesians 4:11) He's saying that God has a purpose for all of His people, but He chooses the tasks He will have us do. To choose for ourselves is to invite disaster.

This brings up an interesting point. Although Wagner never says so, there is a possibility that the grail ALSO calls men to serve it in a variety of ways. If "no one could find it/Save the grail leads him here," then it stands to reason that the grail called Klingsor as well as the others. Could his fallen state be the result of an attempt to choose his own office? We'll get to Klingsor in a few minutes.

The Bible teaches that Jesus was fully aware of His identity as the long-awaited Messiah, sent by God to provide the final redemption for all humanity. He also knew that this redemption would take the form of a substitutionary sacrifice: that He would die in our place in order to save us from eternal separation from God. And He knew the method by which that sacrifice would be accomplished: crucifixion, a torture-death so brutal that even the Nazis couldn't improve on it. Serious Bible scholars can show us how everything Jesus said and did during His three-year ministry leads Him - and us - slowly but inexorably toward the cross of redemption. But, the Bible also teaches that Jesus was both God and man - the Apostle's Creed affirms that He was both "conceived of the Holy Spirit" and "born of the virgin, Mary" - and that, because of this, He was subject to all of the temptations and all of the occasions for sin that we must undergo in this life. The Bible records two occasions when Jesus was sorely tempted to stray from His mission on earth. The first occurs after He has fasted in the desert for 40 days and 40 nights, and is then visited by Satan, who always seems to show up when we're at our weakest, and whom He resolutely sends packing by way of a few, well-chosen words from the Old Testament, a weapon that is available to all of us. The second occasion takes place in the Garden of Gethsemine, just a few hours before His arrest, when Jesus - knowing everything that is to come - cries out to God to be saved from His fate. For three hours, He prays that God will "take this cup from Me; yet, not My will, but Yours be done." (Luke 22:42)

Later, following His crucifixion, death, and resurrection - after all of His redeeming work has been accomplished - He cries out in TRIUMPH to His disciples, saying "All power is given to Me in Heaven and on earth." (Matt. 28:18)

The grail also speaks on at least one - and possibly two - occasions, although there is only one instance when WE may actually be hearing its voice. When Parsifal is awakened to his mission by Kundry'' kiss, he relates a vision in which his "gaze is fixed upon the Holy Cup..." He reports that "the Holy Blood glows..." and he hears the "Savior's lament" emanating from the cup, and the plea that Jesus once made to His Father in Heaven now emanates from the symbol He has left behind, the cup which is the symbol of His continuing presence on earth: "Deliver me, rescue me," cries the grail; "Deliver me from guilt-stained hands." Again, at the conclusion of the opera, when all of the redeeming work has been accomplished - when the grail has, indeed, been rescued "from guilt-stained hands" - the chorus of squires, youth, and knights are joined by what Wagner describes as "scarcely audible voices from above" - perhaps the voice of the grail itself -- in the triumphant final chorus: "Highest Holy Wonder! The Redeemer is redeemed."

Now, I have heard this final chorus interpreted in several ways. The most insidious declares that Wagner's goal in writing "Parsifal" was to create an Aryan Jesus with no connections to Judaism. According to this theory, it is Jesus who cries out to be redeemed from "the guilt-stained hands" of Judaism, and it is that feat -- accomplished by Parsifal -- which is celebrated in the final chorus. Critics who cling to this theory fail to take into account the fact that the redeemer, by definition, has no need of redemption. In fact, it is BECAUSE Jesus is the perfect, sinless being - and, therefore, needs no redemption - that He is able to become the substitutionary sacrifice for our sin and, thereby, redeem US.

So, it is not Jesus who needs to be redeemed - or saved - from guilt-stained hands; it is the icon which reminds us that His dwelling is among men that needs rescue. Wagner's Holy Grail is the SYMBOL of Christ's continuing presence among us, and it is that symbol that is in danger of being lost forever as "Parsifal" opens, not the presence itself. In the last verse of the book of Matthew, Jesus promises that "I am with you always." But - if the tangible SYMBOL of His presence should become extinct - with so much of mankind dependent on a visual symbol of that presence in order to sustain their belief - fewer people will continue to cling to Jesus; more souls will be lost. It is out of the scriptural desire that "all should be saved and come to repentance" that Jesus speaks - through the grail - to charge Parsifal with the quest of redeeming this object, this symbol of His presence. Parsifal's ultimate task is to restore the grail to the purpose for which it was intended. And it is with that in mind that we hear Jesus again cry out in triumph, through the knights, the squires, and the "voices from above," - that is, through the grail itself at the end of the opera - to proclaim that "the redeemer is redeemed."

Now, let's turn to the sworn enemy of the grail, the evil magician Klingsor, and see what we can learn about him in the context of viewing "Parsifal" as a Christian work.

The first thing we learn is that Klingsor was not always the evil magician whom we first observe committing the sin of idolatry at the beginning of Act Two. Traditionally, he is said to have been a pious hermit who lived in a hut in the forest. At some point, he left his hermitage to join the knights of the grail, and managed to find Titurel's castle in Monsalvat. This presents a real quandary if we insist on viewing Klingsor as a being who was evil from the beginning; Gurnemanz tells the young squires in Act One that Klingsor was denied a place with the grail knights, "however much he toiled." Yet, he says this immediately after assuring the young men that all who find the castle are brought here by ways unfound by sinners." Now, since no one can even FIND the castle unless they are called by the grail, we know that Klingsor was, indeed, called to serve it in some capacity. But, Jesus tells us that "many are called, but few are chosen," and Klingsor seems to have ended up as one of the latter.

But why? Why call someone to service and then cast them aside? I think the answer might lie in a Biblical passage that I quoted earlier; Paul's letter to the Ephesians: "It was He [that is, it was Jesus] who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, some to be pastors and teachers." (Eph. 4:11) The Bible tells us that disaster always awaits those who try to choose their own office. My pastor often says, "You always get the best when you let God decide," but many of us find it difficult to trust in His judgement. We want to go our own way; we think we know better than God! And this is what probably happened with Klingsor. He was called to serve the grail in some capacity; he was able to find his way to the grail castle. But, he failed when he tried to choose the way in which he would serve the grail, instead of allowing the grail itself to decide.

The office that Klingsor wants is not the one that is best for him, but the one he thinks will allow him to become the person he imagines himself to be: a knight of the grail. But, in order to become a knight, celibacy is a pre-requisite - remember, Gurnemanz tells the squires that "only to the pure is it granted to join the brothers." Now, Klingsor doesn't understand that celibacy is as much of a calling as the ministry, or prophesy, or being a husband and father, for that matter. He doesn't understand that celibacy is not achieved through some cosmic ritual that removes all physical desire; he doesn't understand that, even for those who are called to it, the life of a celibate is a constant battle between spirit and flesh, where the only victory achieved is temporary, and even that is attained only through supernatural assistance. Klingsor thought he could overcome all physical desire through sheer force of will. The Bible teaches over and over again that human strength and understanding are inherently faulty, but Klingsor still chooses to put his faith in himself. And so, he ultimately commits one of the most serious sins imaginable - a sin against his own body - by breaking the vow of chastity that he had no business making in the first place, because he wasn't called to it. Wagner doesn't tell us whether Klingsor sinned in thought or deed - Gurnemanz tells the squires, "I never know how he there had sinned" - and either act amounts to an act of unchastity anyway; Jesus preaches during the Sermon 0n the Mount that "He who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart." (Matt. 5:28) Realizing that he could not, by himself, "still the sin within," and unable or unwilling to admit the further sin of defying God by trying to choose his own method of service, Klingsor "laid the hand of violence upon himself."

By choosing castration over contrition, Klingsor - in essence - attempted to bargain with the grail, in much the same way that a sorcerer tried to haggle with Peter in the book of Acts. The sorcerer, who called himself Bar-Jesus - or "Son of Jesus" - saw that the Holy Spirit was given to believers when the apostle laid hands upon them. Seeing a good little side-business in the making, he offered money to the apostle, saying "Give me this power, too, so that whoever I lay hands on will receive the Holy Spirit." Instead of money, Klingsor offers his penis, saying "let me become a knight of the grail." Peter had a short answer for Bar-Jesus: "Thy money perish with thee because you thought you could by the gift of God with money." Titurel - keeper of the grail and founder of the castle at Monsalvat - has much the same answer for Klingsor; Gurnemanz reports that "The Guardian drove him off with scorn."

But, here's the difference between Bar-Jesus and Klingsor. The man who tried to buy the free gift of God with money can repent and be restored. In fact, he began to do so almost immediately by asking Peter to pray for him. Klingsor's self-mutilation puts him in a different class. He can be forgiven for emasculating himself, and he can also be pardoned for the sin of presumptuousness in defying God by trying to choose his own office. All he has to do to obtain absolution for these things is repent. However, he can now never come near the grail to serve it in ANY capacity. For the knights who serve the grail are, in effect, priests on the order of Old Testament Levites, and the rules governing those priests in the Levitical law expressly forbid anyone with ANY physical defect from coming near "to offer the food of his God." The Book of Leviticus clearly states that, "No man who is blind or lame, disfigured or deformed: no man with a crippled foot or hand, or who is hunchbacked or dwarfed, or who has any eye defect, or any festering or running sores or damaged testicles. No descendent of Aaron the priest who has any defect is to come near to present the offerings made to the Lord by fire. He has a defect; he must not come near..." (Lev. 21:16-23) This passage would certainly bar Klingsor from service, especially the passage about the damaged testicles. Exiled from the castle by Titurel for this act of self-mutilation, his hopes of becoming a knight of the grail in ruins, Klingsor underwent a drastic personality change. He began as a pious hermit whose motives seem to have been essentially pure, albeit misguided; he becomes a man possessed rage. He quickly learns that the same act of self-mutilation that forever bars him from serving the grail has ANOTHER unforeseen side effect: he has acquired magic powers as a result of it. This is not as far-fetched an idea as it may seem, and once again Wagner has taken a relatively obscure piece of Old Testament scripture -- one that the keppelmeister of a Catholic church would not have picked up simply by following the proscribed liturgy for the day -- and turned it into an important element of "Parsifal." Castration, as it turns out, was one of the practices used by followers of several pagan deities in an attempt to curry favor with their gods or gain supernatural powers. Probably the most famous example of this is found in chapter 18 of First Kings, during the "Battle of the Gods" between Elijah and the 450 priests of a fertility god named Baal. Elijah berates the people of Israel, who have turned to idolatry, saying "How long will you waver between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him; but if Baal is god, follow him!" Then he proposes a sacrifice, and demands that each faction prepare a bull: "Then," says Elijah, "you call upon the name of your god, and I will call upon the name of the Lord. The god who answers by fire -- he is God!" The Bible reports that the priests of Baal called on the name of their god "from morning until noon. 'O Baal, answer us!' they shouted. But there was no response; no one answered. And they danced around the altar they had made. At noon, Elijah began to taunt them. 'Shout louder!' he said. Surely he is a god! Perhaps he is deep in thought, or busy, or traveling. Maybe he is sleeping and must be awakened.' So they shouted louder and slashed themselves with swords and spears...until the blood flowed." This slashing with swords and spears obviously amounted to self-mutilation and would have featured the spectacle of self-castration on the part of several of the priests, according to Biblical scholars who specialize in the study of ancient pagan religions. Needless to say, Baal never responded; and, needless to say -- when Elijah called on Jehovah, "the fire of the Lord fell and burned up the sacrifice."

But, the practice of castrating one's self in order to obtain supernatural results didn't die with the ancient pagan cultures. It has survived into the present day. The recent mass suicide by 39 members of the "Heaven's Gate" cult made us aware that the practice is alive and, uh, well. And, although they apparently did not tie castration to the acquiring of occult powers, there are reports of a number of Satanic cults -- as well as equally strange groups -- who do. Now, as you might expect, many of the American versions of these cults are located on the west coast. But, for some reason, a number of them have shown up recently in the former Soviet Union. Having no desire to rub up next to people who are this crazy, I have not tried to undertake a serious study of these cults, so I don't know whether they got their ideas from ancient fertility religions or from something more recent; but, in any event, I think we can safely conclude that the only time the act of self-castration ever releases occult powers is when it's done by a fictional character like Klingsor.

So, Klingsor goes back to the place where his hut once stood, and plots his revenge. First, he uses his newly acquired power to raise a huge castle and lush gardens. Somewhere along the line, he learns that his inability to be seduced by a woman gives him an unusual amount of power over them. He acquires a number of flower maidens - Gurnemanz tells the squires that the magic garden is a place "wherein there grow women of devilish grace." He also acquires Kundry, whom he uses to entrap and disgrace the knights he had once sought to join; seductions which, of course, disqualify those knights from rendering any further service to the grail. Having surrendered their honor for a moment's bliss, the knights then turn their back on the grail entirely, and become Klingsor's willing slaves; Act Two has hardly begun when we find Klingsor laughing while they willingly "storm the ramparts...to protect their lovely witches" as Parsifal approaches the castle. Klingsor has become a very powerful magician. So powerful, in fact, that he was able to maneuver Amfotas into the compromising situation which enabled him to steal the lance that pierced the side of Christ at the crucifixion, and use it to inflict a wound that will not heal. But, none of this brings Klingsor any joy. His heart's desire is the same as it has always been; he wants the grail. But, love of holiness is no longer the motivating factor; rage and revenge are now the driving forces behind Klingsor's quest. He no longer wants to serve the holy relic, for he believes his magic is strong enough to make the grail serve HIM.

[I'm reminded here of a novella by the Beat writer William Burroughs entitled "Ah Pook Is Here," Ah Pook being the Myan god of death. The story concerns an intelligence agent who is NOT very intelligent. He tries to enslave Death so that it can be used as a weapon against anyone the organization sees as a threat to its interests. Of course, everyone involved in the project discovers -- too late -- that you can't turn a god into a "company cop," especially a death god. Even the pagan gods didn't serve man; man always serves God. Klingsor's dream of getting his hands on the grail and turning it into his own personal weapon to be used against the world is doomed to failure from its conception. Remember who the grail represents!]

With Klingsor, Wagner has created a tangible symbol of Satan, just as he created a tangible symbol of Jesus in the grail. Both Klingsor and Satan were once devoted to holiness -- Klingsor the pious hermit, living out his days in a hut deep in the woods, applying himself to a life of prayer and meditation; Lucifer -- "Son of the Morning Light" -- chief of God's angels and, some say, leader of the angelic host which sings continually in praise of the Creator. Both rebel against God - Satan by aspiring to BE God, and Klingsor doing the same thing - in effect - by refusing God's plan for him. Both are cast out from the presence of the Holy One: Jesus tells His disciples that He saw Satan "fall from Heaven like lightning;" Klingsor is driven from Monsalvat by a scornful Titurel. Both are now consumed with hatred for the deity they once adored, devoting themselves to the destruction of everyone who continues to "walk in the light." And both believe, despite all evidence to the contrary, that they will eventually defeat God Himself in the battle for men's souls. Neither of them seem to realize that they've ALREADY been defeated. The Bible teaches that Satan was defeated once and for all time by the death and resurrection of Jesus. Some of my Christian friends have a saying that we use to encourage each other when we feel oppressed by the devil; "Read the back of the book; we win!" Satan and Klingsor haven't read the back of the book!

Klingsor represents the forces of darkness in a fairly straightforward manner. At the beginning of act 2, the curtain rises on an inner room of his magic castle, where he sits in darkness. Lucy Beckett points out that, traditionally, Klingsor is staring at his reflection in a mirror, suggesting "the narrow, self-regarding realm of evil, in contrast to the grail's kingdom of light, where even the beasts were holy." Klingsor's castle is, in fact, a counterfeit replica of the grail sanctuary, as beautiful as it is sinister, a reminder of the Proverb which warns that sin always looks inviting on its surface. The castle is huge, but foreboding. It's not the home of a benevolent king -- a king like David, whom God called a man after his own heart -- but the stronghold of a despot, a rogue king like Ahab and the other apostate monarchs who led Israel into ruin. The gardens are lush, but sinister, pale imitations of the forest surrounding the grail castle, where the lion lies down with the lamb. The Flower Maidens may appear to be pure and innocent on the surface, but underneath, they bare a closer resemblance to the prostitutes who served in the temples of the pagan deities in Old Testament times. They're certainly not maidens in any Biblical sense; their function is to inspire lust. The disgraced and unrepentant former grail knights who make up Klingsor's army and protect the flower maiden "witches" are an inversion of their former brothers, who continue to serve the grail in holiness; they are first cousins to the rebellious angels who joined Lucifer in his attempt to overthrow God, and were ejected from Heaven with their leader. Having succumbed to the enticements of the Flower Maidens, they switched sides rather than repent of their misdeeds and, like the angels who became demons, are now little more than a pack of well-armed zombies who march forth at the magician's command, ready for to fight to the death if it will mean a little more attention from those bimbos in the garden.

last update: 26 May 2002
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