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    Looking at the 13th Century English Gothic School of St Albans as a Model for the Roman Rite Today



    When I have had discussions about reestablishment of beautiful sacred art in the Roman Catholic Church (as opposed to in the Eastern churches), it usually comes down to picking a style from the past, and then using that as a starting point from which a style for today emerges. Some feel that the Western church should adopt the iconographic tradition, and then we get into discussions about which particular iconographic tradition we should go for: should it be the Greek style, the Russian style, or a historic Western style such as the Romanesque? Fra Angelico’s name also often crops up as a model for today. Some feel that he has sufficient naturalism to appeal to the modern eye, and sufficient abstraction for it to seem other-worldly and holy. A third is the style of English illumination in the early Gothic/late Romanesque style of the Westminster Psalter, which was painted in the 13th century.


    I first started looking at this latter style when I was investigating alternatives to Greek and Russian icons as teaching models for my painting students, when I was artist-in-residence at Thomas More College of Liberal Arts in New Hampshire.


    I noticed that when we studied images from this period, the students engaged with them much more readily; they liked them more than Eastern icons and seemed to understand more instinctively what they were painting. As a result, some quickly developed a feel for what they could change without straying outside the style they were working in. In contrast, most who had not seen the style of the Eastern icons before found it slightly alien, and in class they had no instinctive sense of what they could change while remaining within the traditions. This meant that we had to copy rigidly for fear of introducing error. It was a bit like learning words from a language by rote without understanding the meaning of what you are saying. This is not always such a bad thing; copying with understanding is an essential part of learning art, but at some point the student must apply his understanding in new ways. This latter point seemed to be reached more quickly by these Roman Catholic students when working in the Gothic style. Perhaps if I had been teaching a class of students who had grown up in the Melkite liturgy, the story might have been different!

    I refer to this period as the School of St Albans because its most famous artist is a monk called Matthew Paris, who was based at St Alban’s Abbey in England. Here is his self-portrait; below it are other works by him, scenes from the lives of St Thomas Becket and St Edward the Confessor.




    If we decide that this has the right style and balance of abstraction and naturalism for today’s Church, how do we re-establish it as a tradition? 

    In answer to this, I look to the work done in restablishing the iconographic tradition in the Russian and Greek churches in the 20th century. This was accomplished by a small group of Russian ex-patriots living in France: Vladimir Lossky, Paul Evdokimov, Leonid Ouspensky, Gregory Kroug, as well as a Greek icon painter named Photis Kontoglou, who had contact with them and brought their ideas to the Greek Orthodox Church. In the middle of the 20th century, these men developed and applied a theology of the form of icons, establishing a set of principles that define the iconographic tradition. Lossky, Evdokimov, Ouspensky and to a certain extent Kontoglou were theorists; Ouspensky and Kontoglou were also practitioners. Kroug was an icon painter who, to my knowledge, did not write extensively about icons, but he, along with Ouspensky and Kontoglou, painted wonderful icons. The icon below is Ouspenky’s St Seraphim.


    In the mid-20th century, there were no detailed writings about art by the Church Fathers on which they could draw to define the stylistic elements in the way that was necessary to guide artists. They analysed icons that they judged to be good and holy, and developed a theology of form that seemed consistent with what they were looking at. This developed the principles that artists needed in order to create new works consistent with the tradition. The principles of this newly established iconographic tradition tell us not so much what artists did in the past, but rather what artists ought to do in the future, in order to produce work that bears the mark of the holy icon.

    The test of the validity of this is not the historical accuracy of the principles as proposed, but rather the quality of the work produced by the artists who follow them, and the resilience of the tradition they established - can it outlast the generation that created it? We simply don’t know for certain if the formulas that Ouspensky, Lossky and Evdokimov developed correspond precisely to what Rublev, for example, would have been aiming for hundreds of years ago.

    I feel that iconography has passed the test. We are now several generations of teachers and students past Ouspensky. The very best of today’s icon painters are producing icons in this style that stand alongside the great works of the past, and moreover, they are engaging with modern people in the place where they are meant to, in the context of the liturgy.

    The analysis of these 20th century Russian ex-pats may very well have little credibility in the art history departments of our secular universities, where I am guessing it would be dismissed as purely personal speculation. But that doesn’t prevent what they proposed from being good and valid, given the end that they had in mind, namely, the creation of beautiful art that is in harmony with the liturgy.

    Furthermore, while the icons that these men painted were clearly connected to ancient icons, they also incorporated with discernment the forms of 20th century art, as we may see, for example, in the icons of Gregory Krug. His style has the marks of someone who has seen 20th century secular art; this is just a personal observation, but I see in it elements of the cubism of Braques. I don’t know if this was done deliberately; quite possibly it was not. It may have come out naturally as Krug made use of the images stored in his memory, and employed his imagination to create the idea of the icon he was going to paint in his mind.


    So how do we do the same for the Gothic School of St Albans?

    I think the answer is to copy and seek to understand, so that we can articulate a set of principles that define the tradition as a guide to future artists. Here are the common features that strike me:
    • A strong emphasis on line-drawing. The description of form is not done through modelling with graded colour and tone, but rather through simple flowing lines. 
    • The figures themselves are well observed and naturalistic, though still retaining a symbolic quality. The degree of naturalism is higher than most icongraphic styles. 
    • However, the relationships between them are not defined by a natural perspective. They live, so to speak, in the middle distance and in the plane of the painting in the same way that iconographic figures do. This is something that artists can control quite easily once they understand how to do it.
    • Simple colouration - often with light washes and with the ground/foundation visible in parts.
    • The inclusion of geometric patterns, especially in the borders. 
    I would use egg tempera, mosaic or fresco as media, since they are suited to the “flatness” of this style. In the learning process, the most convenient medium to use is egg tempera; it is cheap and clean and can be used in the sort of small space (on a kitchen table, for example,) that most people are likely to have available to them. It would work on high quality paper as readily as on gesso panels.


    A large part of what will characterize the new style will be the drawing. The artists who excel at this will be expert draughtsmen who understand how line can describe form, even when there is not tonal gradation in a drawing. I anticipate that a 21st century Neo-Gothic style would emerge naturally; the artist would naturally and unthinkingly fuse the elements of his own artistic preferences, but as the main object of study, participate also in the essential elements of the original Gothic style. As a result of this, I would expect the 21st century School of St Albans to be similar to, but distinct from the 13th century Gothic, and distinct also from the Victorian Neo-Gothic.

    At each stage as an artist, if I was taking on this style as my own, I would be asking myself (as directed by Pius XII in Mediator dei) what the original artist was trying to do, and should I do precisely what he did, or does the Church’s need today differ in a way that requires some modification? For example, I would think about the style of dress for the figures in each case. Chainmail for a soldier is fine for a scene from the life of Thomas Becket, or even for a figure that represents to us today the idea of chivalry, but probably not for the soldiers present at the Passion. The iconographic tradition could help me in this respect. However accurate they really are historically, the style of dress used in iconography is carefully worked out to establish the idea in the the modern worshipper who looks at it that the figures portrayed are in a different time and place, and yet familiar to us in a way that reinforces what we know.

    As regards the development of a theology of form, although these English illuminations come from the Gothic period historically, I do not see anything in these works that contravenes the iconographic prototype of the Romanesque. They are really a more naturalized style of Romanesque art, and the Romanesque conforms to the iconographic prototype. Therefore, I think that we could adopt the essential principles of iconography, as developed by these mid 20th century pioneers, but apply them in a way particularly for the Roman Rite.

    Alternatively, some may wish to push the envelope slightly and move into a genuine Gothic style (for example, by allowing figures in profile). I have discussed this at some length these distinction in my book The Way of Beauty.




    If you want to see examples of art in this style, go to Google Images and look for examples from the following books: Queen Mary Apocalypse, English Apocalypse, Westminster Psalter, Winchester Psalter, Douce Apocalypse, and the Psalter of Henry of Bloise.

    So that’s it - I encourage you to go ahead and be radical traditionalists in the authentic spirit of the Second Vatican Council. This is precisely what Caravaggio was in his day, following the Council of Trent when he formed the baroque style that did so much for the Catholic Counter-Reformation. We need artists who are post-Vat-II tradicals, and can do something similar today

    If you feel you need some help in getting going, I plan to create an introductory online painting course for Pontifex University that will be available in the spring. In it, I will set out these principles and demonstrate how to make a start in egg tempera.

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    Although Ss Mark and Luke are given the title “Evangelist” in the liturgy, but are called not “Apostles”, the former is really a subcategory of the latter, and the liturgical texts of their feasts do not differ significantly from those of the other Apostles. One distinguishing feature of St Luke’s feast is that it is not kept with a vigil on the day before, since vigils were reserved for martyrs. The tradition accepted in the West is that he did not die as a martyr; his Preface in the Ambrosian Missal specifically calls him a “confessor”, and the liturgical commentator Sicard of Cremona says in the later 12th century that “he did not end his life by martyrdom.” (Mitrale 9.47) (The only other Apostles who have no vigil are Barnabas, who was not one of the Twelve, and the three whose feasts occur in Eastertide, from which penitential observances are excluded: St Mark on April 25th, and Ss Philip and James on May 1st.)

    The Vision of Ezekiel, by Raphael, 1518
    Already towards the end of the second century, St Irenaeus of Lyon identified the four animals (or “living beings”) seen by Ezechiel in the vision at the beginning of his book as prophetic symbols of the four Evangelists. These are a man, a lion, an ox and an eagle, the same four which later appear to St John in Apocalypse 4. This tradition was followed by Ss Augustine, Jerome, and Gregory the Great, although they differ from Irenaeus as to which animal symbolizes which Evangelist. (Jerome’s explanation, confirmed by Gregory, eventually prevailed.) They all agree, however, that the ox, an animal commonly used in temple sacrifices in the ancient world, including those of the Jews, is the symbol of St Luke, who begins his Gospel with the story of St John the Baptist’s father, the priest Zachariah. This interpretation is also strongly suggested by Ezechiel’s words, “the face of a man, and the face of a lion on the right side of all the four: and the face of an ox, on the left side of all the four: and the face of an eagle over all the four.” (1, 10) The man and the lion, who represent Matthew and Mark respectively, are both on the right, since their Gospels are very similar to each other; Luke records many stories that are not in the other two Synoptics or John, hence the ox which represents him is on the left; while John says the most about the divinity of Christ, and hence his eagle is placed above the others.

    The traditional Gospel of St Luke’s feast is taken from his tenth chapter, verses 1-9, Christ’s instructions to the seventy-two whom He sent out in pairs to preach “in every city and place where He himself was to come.” It is also read on St Mark’s day, and was later extended to the feasts of various Confessors.

    The revised liturgies which held sway in most of France from the mid-17th to the later 19th centuries, (now often called “Neo-Gallican,”) contain a great many lapses in taste and judgment which almost beggar belief. Like most people who put their hand to changing historical liturgies, the Neo-Gallican revisers were painfully obsessed with making everything “more Scriptural,” but in the process of expanding the Missal’s corpus of readings, they did manage to make a number of rather clever choices. One of these was to read St Luke’s prologue as the Gospel on his feast, as in the 1738 Parisian Missal.
    Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to set forth in order a narration of the things that have been accomplished among us; according as they have delivered them unto us, who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word: it seemed good to me also, having diligently attained to all things from the beginning, to write to thee in order, most excellent Theophilus, that thou may know the verity of those words in which thou hast been instructed. (Luke 1, 1-4)
    In the original Greek, this passage is written in a notably higher style than the rest of the Gospel, perhaps a signal that the author is indeed a man of education, and hence suitable to the writing of such an important work. It is likely that he received his education while training as a doctor in his native city of Antioch, one of the most important cities in the Eastern Mediterranean at the time, which he mentions several times in the Acts.

    St Luke writing his Gospel, and the beginning of the Gospel, from the 9th century Evangeliary of Ebon (folios 90v and 91r. Bibliothèque nationale de France  
    A tradition attested since the sixth century states that St Luke once (or more than once) painted an image of the Virgin Mary, for which he has long been honored as a patron Saint of artists as well as doctors. This tradition may have arisen as a metaphorical way of describing the “portrait” of the Virgin which he gives in his Infancy Narrative; the first two chapters of his Gospel recount the events of Christ’s conception and birth from Her point of view, as it were, where St Matthew speaks more about St Joseph’s role. It is also he who records most of the actual words spoken by the Virgin, far more than the other three combined. However the story arose, there are a number of ancient icons which are said to be the original painted by St Luke himself, or a faithful early copy thereof, and “St Luke Painting the Virgin and Child” has been a popular subject for artists in both East and West.

    On the other hand, the Byzantine Office makes only one glancing reference to this tradition, in the following text from Matins.
    Luke, apostle of Christ, revealer of ineffable things, and teacher of the nations, with the divine Paul, and the holy Mother of God, about whose divine image thou didst inquire, pray for us who bless thee, and honor thy holy falling-asleep, o beholder of God, and all-wise revealer of the divine mysteries. 
    The vagueness of “about whose divine image thou didst inquire” is significant, because the Canon with which this is sung was written by one Theophanes, who, together with his brother Theodore, is honored as a Saint for his defense of the holy images in the days of the iconoclast heresy. (They are called “the written-upon ones”, since the iconoclast emperor Theophilus had lines of verse cut into their skin.) Arguments from silence vary in force according to circumstance. However, it seems likely that if the tradition that St Luke made an image of the Virgin rested on a solid historical foundation, a defender of the holy icons would make much of that fact when writing a Canon in honor of him.

    St Luke Drawing the Virgin and Child, by Rogier van der Weyden 1435-40
    The Byzantine Office also refers explicitly to an Eastern tradition that St Luke was one of the two disciples who met Christ on the way to Emmaus, the one not named in the Gospel itself. This would be in accord with the common ancient practice of authorial anonymity; for the same reason, it was sometimes supposed that St Mark was the anonymous follower of Christ who escaped arrest in the garden of Gethsemani by running out of his clothes, an episode which is mentioned only in his Gospel. (14, 51-52) However, this story was completely unknown in the West; St Ambrose, for example, says that Cleophas’ companion was called Ammonas.
    From thy writings we know, as thou said, the verity of the words which thou set forth and revealed under divine inspiration; since thou didst put thy hand to write for us of the matters of which thou were fully informed, and as the eye-witnesses handed on to thee. And thou becamest their equal, and a servant of the incarnation of the Word, whom thou didst see at Emmaus after the Resurrection; and with burning heart, thou ate together with Cleophas. Fill also our souls with His divine fervor as we honor thee.
    Another texts from Vespers admirably sums up the whole career of St Luke as follows.
    Rejoice, thou who alone in joy did write for us “Rejoice!” (Χαῖρε, Ave), the Gospel of the Holy (Virgin), and of her giving birth to the Lord, of the Baptist speaking from the womb, of his conception, and the Incarnation of the Word, His temptations and miracles, His discourses and sufferings, the Cross and Death, and the Resurrection, which thou saw, and the Ascension, and the descent of the Spirit, and the deeds of the heralds, especially of Paul, whose companion thou wert, healer, revealer of the mysteries, and enlightener of the Church, which do thou ever guard!
    Christ Appears to Cleophas and Luke on the road to Emmaus; the Supper at Emmaus; Cleophas and Luke report the Resurrection to the Apostles (Luke 24, 13-35). Fresco of the 15th century in the nave of the Gračanica Monastery in Kosovo; St Luke is named in each of the captions. (Click to enlarge.)

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    October 21st is the feast day of Blessed Karl I, the last Emperor of Austria-Hungary; this year marks the centenary of his accession to the throne on November 21st. He was beatified by Pope St John Paul II in 2004; a second miracle has been attributed to his intercession, a miraculous healing which led to the conversion of the person healed. His feast day is kept not on the day of his death, April 1st, but rather, on the day of his marriage to Princess Zita of Bourbon-Parma, which took place in 1911; her cause for canonization was introduced in December of 2009. It is well-known story about the Bl. Karl that he said to his wife on the day after their wedding, “Now, we must help each other to get to Heaven.”

    A website has been created by the Emperor Karl League of Prayer (screen capture below), which has a great deal of useful information about the Blessed, his life and the cause for his canonization. It also has a section listing a number of Masses for his feast, including a Pontifical Mass which Bishop Athanasius Schneider will celebrate in Washington D.C., at church of St Mary Mother of God. The particular mission of the League is to pray for peace throughout the world, a mission of the greatest importance in these troubling times.
    http://www.emperorcharles.org/


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    The Abbey of St Genevieve, the Patron Saint of Paris, was one of the most important churches in the city before the French revolution. Founded in the sixth century by King Clovis, and originally dedicated to Ss Peter and Paul, St Genevieve used to pray there very often, and was buried in the church next to Clovis. During the great reform movement of the 12th century, the secular canons who had long run it were replaced by Augustinians Canons Regular; in the 17th century, it became the mother house of over one-hundred other abbeys, and the congregation thus formed was called Génovéfaine. The abbey church was rebuilt at the behest of King Louis XV, starting in 1758, but not completed until the year of the suppression, 1790, when it was transformed into a mausoleum for important Frenchman, tastefully renamed “Le Panthéon.” The abbey itself, however, was destroyed to make way for a street.

    I recently stumbled across a very particular liturgical book once used at the abbey on archive.org, titled “Collectarium ad usum prioris hujus ecclesiae.” A “collectarium” is a book which contains only the celebrant’s parts for the singing of the Divine Office, namely, the intonations of the relevant antiphons, (only the first in each series, and those of the Magnificat and Benedictus), the chapters, and the collects. In this particular case, the abbey’s custom was fairly typical of many chapters and orders; the prior celebrated solemn Vespers for second rank feasts that were not “officium abbbatis – the duty of the abbot.” (Of course, he may also have celebrated other Offices, and sung his part out of other books.)

    The title page. “Fr Gabriel Raveneau, C.R. (canonicus regularis) wrote the Collectarium for the use of the Prior of this church, in the year 1711.” St Genevieve is shown at the top, and in her martyrdom below. Ss Peter and Paul, the church’s original titular Saints, are shown in the corner medallions above, King Clovis and his wife, St Clotilde below. The royal patronage of the abbey is signified by the shield of France in the middle; as in many French canonical abbeys, the abbot had the use of miter and crozier.
    These are the major Marian feasts apart from the Assumption, (Purification, Annunciation, Nativity and Immaculate Conception), Easter and Pentecost Monday, Benediction within the octave of Corpus Christ, Ss Denis and Companions, St Stephen, and two secondary feasts of the church’s Patron Saint, the finding of her relics on January 10, the octave day of her main feast, and the commemoration of the “miraculum ardentium” on November 26th. This last is an event of the year 1129, when the Parisians were saved from an epidemic of “the burning sickness,” a series of painful symptoms, including a burning sensation in the extremities, caused by ingesting grains contaminated with ergot. The epidemic was ended when the relics of St Genevieve were paraded around the city, and the procession was continued for many centuries afterwards. (See this article in French about the procession at the blog of our friends of the Schola Sainte Cécile.)

    The procession of the relics of St Genevieve on the feast of the miracle.
    Sheets were added to the back of the book which indicate that Vespers of the Circumcision, Ascension, Trinity and Clovis’ wife St Clotild (June 3), who was also buried in the abbey, were added to the prior’s duties; the second of these speaks to the possiblity of a particularly lazy abbot. It also contains the prayers for most of the commemorations which can occur on these feasts. There is not a huge number of illustrations, but they are all of the highest quality; one can only image what the abbot’s collectarium must have looked like. The book is in the public domain, and can be downloaded from archive for free at link given above.

    The casket of the relics is here shown being lowered from the large pedestal on which it was kept behind the main altar of the abbey church; this was done as part of the ceremony of the procession on November 26, when the casket was carried by the members of a special confraternity.
    The Annunciation
    Decoration to fill some space after the Annunciation.
    Easter Monday
    Pentecost Monday
    Benediction during the octave of Corpus Christi
    Ss Denis and Companions on October 9
    Another decoration, here at the end of the prayers for the commemorations.


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    Dominicans wearing rosaries and cappelli romani (Roman hats)
    In the wake of a recent post on St. Martin de Porres, which included a discussion of the Tertiary (“Third Order”) habit that the oldest painting of his shows him wearing, a commentator asked when the Holy Rosary became an “official” part of the Dominican habit. This seemed an easy question to answer, but it proved more complicated.  The first thing I did was to look in the most recent version of the Dominican Constitutions (2014), appendix 3, which describes our habit. It says absolutely nothing about the Rosary. Perhaps then, the Rosary was dropped after the major revision of our Constitutions in 1968. I checked there in appendix 3: nothing on the Rosary.

    But my quandery was resolved by a message from Fr. Martin Wallace, who called my attention to n. 50 of the 1969 Constitutions which says. "The habit of the Order consists of a white tunic with a white scapular and capuce, with a black cappa and capuce, a leather belt and rosary."   And so n. 50 reads for all revisions of the Constitutions up to the present age, even though Appendix 3 in each addition never mentions it.  This legislation is virtually identical to that no n. 601 of the Pre-Vatican-II constitutions of 1954 and 1932, although these specify that the Rosary is to hang from the belt.  These norms descend from n. 892 of the 1924 Constitutions, which mentions the Rosary but says nothing of where it is worn.  And this legislation is the first official entry of the Rosary into the Constitutions as part of the habit.  It was undoubtedly introduced as part of the reform of the older law (as witnessed in Jandel) in the wake of the new Code of Canon Law in 1917.So the Holy Rosary has been an official part of the Dominican Habit since the promulgation of the revised Constitutions of 1924.  I thank Fr. Wallace for his help on this!


    So what of the Rosary and the habit before that date?  I find that, in 1879, the founder of my Western Dominican Province, Fr. Francis-Sadoc Vilarrassa, a noted canonist of his time, wrote, commenting on the Jandel Constitutions, “Though there is not any ordinance as to the wearing of Rosaries, it seems were are bound to wear them in virtue of the ancient and universal custom of the order.” So before 1924 Dominicans wore the habit Rosary, not because of legislation, but because of custom with force of law. How custom become law is no our topic here, but rather the question is when did the custom arise and when did it become “universal.”

    Blessed Venvenuta
    In the thirteenth century, the practice of reciting set numbers of Pater Nosters (Our Fathers) was already a popular lay devotion. I have collected examples of this from the lives of Italian saints and blesseds of the period in my book Cities of God. My favorite is the Dominican blessed, Benvenuta Bojani (1254-1292) From the age of seven to twelve, she said 100 Paters and Aves daily, doing 100 prostrations in honor of the Lord’s Nativity and a second 100 prostrations in honor of his Resurrection. To this she later added 1000 Aves in honor of the Blessed Virgin, except on Saturdays, Our Lady’s special day, when she doubled the number. So she was not only saying Paters but also Aves.

    In our primitive constitutions (ca. 1220), the conversi or lay brothers (now called cooperator brothers) were required to say set numbers of Paters for the various canonical hours, which they could not sing with the clerics because they normally were illiterate and had manual labor to do to support the community. But in 1252, the General Chapter held at Lund in Sweden made the first attempt to add a 100 Aves to the 100 Paters lay brothers said in their suffrages for dead. This did not last, but by the early 1300s, 100 Paters and Aves had became the conversi suffrage for a dead member of their community. Then, in 1366, the General Chapter at Rome first added Aves to all Paters that the convesi said instead of the Divine Office. After some back and forth, this practice was finalized by the early 1400s. But none of this was the “Dominican” Rosary as we know it, with 15 decades of 1 Pater, 10 Aves, and a Gloria Patri. As far as we can tell, that form, with a set of 15 mysteries to meditate on, first appeared in the writings of Dominic of Prussia (1382–1461), a Carthusian monk. So, the custom of wearing the Rosary has to date after the mid-1460s.

    Famously, Bl. Alan de la Roche, O.P. (d. 1475) promoted the devotion to the Rosary throughout the last 16 years of his life, preaching and writing about it. In 1470, he founded the Confraternity of the Most Holy Rosary. Later legends (recorded only after his death) ascribe to him visions of Our Lady, the Rosary, and St. Dominic, supposedly dated to about 1460, so the earliest date for Dominican habit Rosaries would be the late 1400s. And, indeed, the earliest image I know of showing a rosary is a woodcut dated to that period. It also shows Dominic, though not wearing it, and I reproduce it here.

    There is nothing that I have found that indicates any Dominican wearing of, or legislation on, the Holy Rosary, however, for another 100 years. By then, I understand that in the 1540s, Fray Domingo Betanzos, O.P. (d. 1549), first provincial of the Dominican province of Mexico, required friars of that Province to wear a Rosary around their necks. This practice would then spread with Spanish Dominicans to South America,  and eventually to the Philippines and the Far East. This is the first example of wearing of the Holy Rosary with the habit, although it is not universal and not on the belt. On September 1569, the Dominican Pope, Saint Pius V, acknowledged as a “pious belief” the legends linking Dominic and the Holy Rosary, usually connected with Alan de la Roche, in his bull Consueverunt Romani Pontifices, which also granted indulgences for those saying it and meditating on the mysteries. Then in 1571 comes the first-known mention of the Rosary in any legislation of the Order as a whole The General Chapter at Rome in that year urged the promotion of the Rosary in preaching. This is not surprising, as that was the year of the great victory over the Muslim invasion of Christian Europe at the Battle of Lepanto, a victory that Pope Pius ascribed to praying the Rosary.

    St. Dominic, no Habit Rosary, 1593
    By 1583, however, the General Chapter at Rome first mentioned the recitation of the Holy Rosary in an ordinance of the whole order; it allowed lay brothers and Tertiaries (conversi et seculares) to replace the 100 Paters and Aves in suffrages for the dead with five decades of the Rosary. In 1596, the order gave the title “Our Lady of the Holy Rosary” to the new province of the Philippines and the Orient. However, I find no evidence that the Spanish Dominion practice of wearing the Rosary around the neck had spread any beyond the Spanish missions. In 1593, for example, a title page of Spanish catechism still shows St. Dominic without any habit Rosary, as you can see to the left.

    Nevertheless, as is clear from the image of the elderly St. Martin de Porres I featured in my earlier post that, in the Spanish Dominions at least, the wearing of a Rosary around the neck had become common, even customary. Then, in 1670, at the Rome Chapter, the daily recitation of the  Rosary in choir by all friars, priests as well as lay brothers, was mandated, a requirement that remains to this day when not impeded by pastoral responsibilities.

    St. Dominc wearing the Rosary, by Coello
    Artistic evidence in the later 1600s suggests that it is in that period that the wearing of the Rosary, now on the belt, finally became a “universal” custom. It is very difficult to trace the introduction of customs, but artistic representations are usually a good indication, and it is in the 1660s and 1670s, that artists first begin to portray Dominican saints wearing a Rosary. A good example from this period is the painting to the right by the Spanish late-Baroque painter Claudio Coello (1642–93), which shows St. Dominic wearing the Fifteen-Decade Dominican Rosary. I do not claim that this is the earliest example of this iconography, only the earliest I have found. If a reader knows of a dated earlier example, I would be happy to add it to this post.

    St. Rose of Lima with a Rosary
    It is interesting that the same artist knew that St. Rose of Lima (1586–1617) would have worn her Rosary around her neck, as that was the practice among Dominicans in Peru during her time. This, even though he has all the rest of her dress incorrect, painting her in the habit of a cloistered nun, rather than in the Tertiary habit she would have worn, with a white veil, no scapular, white tunic, and black mantle.

    So, my conclusion is that the custom of wearing a habit Rosary become more or less universal  in the late 1600s. It certainly was so by the 1700s, as I know of no images of Dominicans from that century or later without it. If, however, anyone knows an image of that late date showing a Dominican without a habit Rosary, let me now and I will add it to this post.

    I am allowing the posting of comments, but, for reasons I cannot understand, I cannot post any myself. So, I will respond to comments at Dominican Liturgy if you duplicate post your comment there as well.

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    C
    eremonial wear, whether sacred or secular, is meant to communicate symbols and deeper meanings; to inspire and to engage, drawing people into the underpinning realities which they seek to symbolize. In this regard, vestments, not unlike the ceremonial garb of the state or military, is not mere "fashion" and should not be reduced to such pedestrian levels. There may indeed be different styles and periods of origination which can be traced within them, but that these things have a symbolic, even allegorical quality, in part explains why, unlike fashion, they develop and change so very slowly in the course of centuries. Symbols aren't to be too readily trifled with lest they be upset.

    This short preface really just intends to say that these things matter; they have meaning and because of that it is important that they be done well. Vestments, when executed well, have what I can only describe as a certain effortless quality about them -- no matter how simple or how ornate. This quality is attained, I believe, through their visual interest, as well as the unity and complementarity of the parts in relation to the whole. What's more, the particular cut of the vestments (including how neatly and nobly it wears) are also a part of this formula, as are the nature and quality of the materials used. In terms of the colour and ormamentation, these should complement the whole and be proportionate to the whole.

    It is a fine balance to strike and not doing so can result, on the minimlalist end of the spectrum, in lack-lustre vestments of little engaging power, or on the other end of the spectrum, gaudy, distracting clutter; the result in both instances is something lacking in the qualities of nobility and beauty, thereby also distracting from them as symbols and potentially engaging people in a negative rather than fruitful way.

    I wished to share a couple of recent examples of vestment work that I think precisely fit the bill and can serve as models. I have purposely chosen examples from both the gothic and baroque traditions.

    On the gothic revival side of the coin, the famed Watts & Co. recently have been releasing sets of AWN Pugin inspired vestments -- something I think long overdue and I am glad that Watts has picked this up. Here are two examples from this excellent new line:



    From the baroque stream, I recently came across a Spanish vestment maker that I cannot recall having run into before, Pluri Arte. Their site shows a number of excellent examples of well-executed vestments in the baroque tradition. Accomplishing the balance I have noted in the baroque tradition takes quite a bit of skill because that tradition's use of highly coloured, patterned textiles could more easily lead to a garish result. (Whereas on the gothic side of things, it is easier to end up with rather lack-lustre results.) Here are a few examples of their excellent work:



    Each of these examples, from both makers, strike me as very successfully executed vestments that are tasteful, noble and beautiful, lending themselves well to both their practical as well as symbolic purposes. Well done.



    Follow Shawn Tribe on Facebook and Twitter

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    One of the changes made to the Breviary in the revision of 1960 regards the arrangement of the months from August to November. One of the oddest effects of the new system will take place this year in regard to the readings in November.

    On the first Sunday of each of these months, the Church begins to a new set of scriptural books at Matins, with their accompanying antiphons and responsories; their arrangement is part of a system which goes back to the sixth century. In August, the books of Wisdom are read; in September, Job, Tobias, Judith and Esther; in October the books of the Macchabees; in November, Ezechiel, Daniel, and the twelve minor Prophets. (September is actually divided into two sets of readings, Job having a different set of responsories from the other three books.)

    The “first Sunday” of each of these months is traditionally that which occurs closest to the first calendar day of the month, even if that day occurs within the end of the previous month. This year, for example, the first Sunday “of August” was actually July 31st, the closest Sunday to the first day of August.

    In the 1960 revision, however, the first Sunday of the months from August to November is always that which occurs first within the calendar month. Therefore, the first Sunday of August was August 7th. This change also accounts for one of the peculiarities of the 1960 Breviary, the fact that November has four weeks, which are called the First, Third, Fourth and Fifth.

    According to the traditional calculation, November has five weeks when the 5th of the month falls on a Sunday; otherwise, it has four. In those years when it has four (most of them) the second week is omitted. Ezechiel is read on the first week, and the second, if there is one; Daniel in the third, and the the Twelve Prophets in the fourth. The system is designed to maintain the tradition that at least a bit of each of the Prophets would always be read in the Breviary.

    According to the newer calculation, November may have three or four weeks, but never five; the second week was removed from the Breviary, since it is never used. However, the older nomenclature was retained; it is hard to imagine why this was thought either necessary or useful, since a great many other terms were changed, such as the entire system of classification of liturgical days. Therefore, the four weeks are called First, Third, Fourth and Fifth.

    In the older system, November would have four weeks this year, the first Sunday “of November” being October 30, since it is closer to the first day of that month. In the new system, the first Sunday “of November” will be the first within the calendar month, November 6th.

    However, the last Sunday of the month, the 27th, is the first Sunday of Advent this year, and so November only has three weeks. Therefore, this year Ezechiel is dropped entirely; the readings from Daniel begin on November 6th, Hosea on November 13th, and Micah on November 20th.

    Things are slightly complicated by the fact that in 1960, a Sunday is completely omitted when it is impeded by a feast of the Lord. (Previously, Sundays were always commemorated if they were impeded.) Thus, all of the liturgical texts assigned to Sunday, October 30th, are dropped this year in favor of the feast of Christ the King.

    The calculation of the Sundays after Pentecost also calls for a note here. (The discrepancies between the Missals of St Pius V and St John XXIII are very slight in this regards, and have no bearing on the end of this year.)

    The number of Sundays “after Pentecost” assigned to the Missal is 24, but the actual number varies between 23 and 28. The “24th” is always celebrated on the last Sunday before Advent. If there are more than 24, the gap between the 23rd and 24th is filled with the Sundays after Epiphany that had no place at the beginning of the year. The prayers and readings of those Sundays are inserted into the Mass of the 23rd Sunday (i.e., the set of Gregorian propers.) The Breviary homily on the Sunday Gospel and the concomitant antiphons of the Benedictus and Magnificat also carry over in the Office.

    The remaining Sunday of the year are therefore as follows in 1960:
    Oct 23 - 23rd Sunday after Pentecost (4th week of October in the Breviary)
    Oct 30 - Christ the King (5th week of October in the Breviary)
    Nov. 6 - 5th Sunday after Epiphany (3rd week of November)
    Nov. 13 - 6th Sunday after Epiphany (4th week of November)
    Nov. 20 - 24th Sunday after Pentecost (5rd week of November)
    Nov. 27 - First Advent

    In the Breviary and Missal of St Pius V, they are as follows (with the addition of Christ the King.)
    Oct 23 - 23rd Sunday after Pentecost (4th week of October in the Breviary)
    Oct 30 - Christ the King (1st week of November in the Breviary, commemoration of the 4th Sunday after Epiphany.)
    Nov. 6 - 5th Sunday after Epiphany (3rd week of November)
    Nov. 13 - 6th Sunday after Epiphany (4th week of November)
    Nov. 20 - 24th Sunday after Pentecost (5rd week of November)
    Nov. 27 - First Advent

    If this all seems a little complicated, bear in mind that the oldest arrangement of the Mass lectionary that we know of was even more so. The oldest lectionary of the Roman Rite, a manuscript now in Wurzburg, Germany, dates to ca. 750, and represents the system used at Rome about 100 years earlier. It has a very disorganized and incomplete set of readings for the period after Pentecost; the Sundays are counted as 2 after Pentecost, 7 after Ss Peter and Paul, 5 after S. Lawrence, and 6 after S. Cyprian, a total of only 20. There also ten Sundays after Epiphany, even though Septuagesima is also noted in the manuscript, and the largest number of Sundays that can occur between Epiphany and Septuagesima is only six.

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    The Catholic Artists Society will have its annual Solemn Requiem Mass for deceased family members, friends, and fellow artists, on Monday, November 7th, at the beautiful church of St. Vincent Ferrer in New York City. The Mass is co-sponsored with the New York Purgatorial Society and the Society of St. Hugh of Cluny. The Schola Cantorum of St. Vincent Ferrer, accompanied by period instruments and conducted by James Wetzel, will sing Manuel Cardoso’s Missa Pro Defunctis a 6. A reception will follow in the parish hall. Detailed information in the poster.

    Once again, it is a very encouraging thing to see not only the continual and growing interest in the Dominican liturgy, but also the cultivation of the rite in company with such excellent music.


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    The country of the Czech Republic and the city of Prague was much blessed by the visit last week of His Eminence Raymond Leo Cardinal Burke. His Eminence visited several places, giving public lectures in defense of Catholic doctrine on marriage and the family and celebrating pontifical liturgies in the usus antiquior. In this post, I will simply share photos from the Mass on Saturday, October 15, at Strahov Abbey, a house founded in 1143 as part of the Premonstratensian order and well known for housing the relics of St. Norbert himself.

    This Mass was one of the most splendid I have ever had the privilege of attending. The capacious Baroque church was packed with faithful of all ages, including quite a few little children, which was heartening to see. A large number of clergy, including the abbot, the prior, and many of the Norbertine canons, assisted in choro. Ministers were provided by the Institute of Christ the King, whose founder and head, Msgr. Gilles Wach, was also present. The liturgy, for the feast of St. Teresa of Jesus, was conducted with the utmost beauty and reverence. The choir sang with great finesse Palestrina's Missa Papae Marcelli and a number of other Renaissance motets; the organist, for his part, was simply outstanding as an improviser. The final 10-minute improvisation on the popular hymn tune that had just been sung by the congregation was positively Brucknerian in scope.

    His Eminence has graciously given NLM permission to publish his sermon for the feast of St. Teresa. It is a most beautiful meditation on this great Carmelite saint. A gallery of photos may be found at the end.

    SERMON


    Feast of Saint Teresa of Avila, Virgin
    Basilica of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary
    Premonstratensian Abbey of Strahov
    Prague
    15 October 2016

    2 Cor 10, 17-18; 11, 1-2
    Mt 25, 1-13

    Praised be Jesus Christ! Now and for ever.

    It brings me profound joy to offer the Pontifical Mass in this most beautiful church dedicated to Our Savior and to His Immaculate Mother under her title of the Assumption. I am grateful to almighty God Who has granted me to make pilgrimage to the historic Premonstratensian Abbey of Strahov and to pray at the tomb of Saint Norbert. I thank Father Abbot and all of the canons of the Abbey for their most warm hospitality, and I thank all who have prepared so well the celebration of the Pontifical Mass. In a particular way, I thank the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest for providing the assistance for the Pontifical Mass, even as I am deeply grateful for the presence of Monsignor Gilles Wach, the Founder of the Institute. With deepest esteem and gratitude, I acknowledge the presence of Knights and Dames of the Grand Priory of Bohemia of the Sovereign Military Order of Malta, of which I am privileged to be the Cardinal Patron. I take the occasion to express once again my gratitude to Lucie Cekotova and to all who have worked with her to organize my visit to your beloved homeland, the Czech Republic. In deepest gratitude, I offer the Holy Mass for the intentions of the Church in the Czech Republic and the intentions of Strahov Abbey.

    Today, we celebrate the feast of Saint Teresa of Avila, Virgin and Doctor of the Church. We recall the heroic sanctity of her life and its many fruits, including the reform of the Carmelite Order, which she carried out together with Saint John of the Cross, and her spiritual writings which continue to inspire and strengthen many souls to seek more perfect union with God. The life and death of Saint Teresa open our eyes to contemplate the mystery of Christ’s love, which is daily at work in our souls. Dom Prosper Guéranger, commenting on today’s feast, extolled the great gift of her spiritual writings:
    Having arrived at the mountain of God, she described the road by which she had come, without any pretension but to obey him who commanded her in the name of the Lord. With exquisite simplicity and unconsciousness of self, she related the works accomplished for her Spouse; made over to her daughters the lessons of her own experience; and described the many mansions of that castle of the human soul, in the centre of which, he that can reach it will find the holy Trinity residing as in an anticipated heaven. No more was needed: withdrawn from speculative abstractions and restored to its sublime simplicity, Christian mysticism again attracted every mind; light reawakened love; the virtues flourished in the Church; and the baneful effects of heresy and its pretended reform were counteracted.[1]
    Christ called Saint Teresa to give herself totally – in every fiber of her being – to Him, in order that she might bring His light and love to her brothers and sisters. From His glorious pierced Heart, Christ poured forth the sevenfold gift of the Holy Spirit into the heart of Saint Teresa, so that, she, as His bride through religious profession, could be the effective sign and instrument of His pure and selfless love.

    Reflecting upon her life in Christ, we come to understand the words of Saint Paul in his Second Letter to the Corinthians. Addressing the members of the Church at Corinth, who had come to life in Christ through Saint Paul’s sacred ministry, Saint Paul declares: “[F]or I am jealous of you with the jealousy of God. For I have espoused you to one husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ” (2 Cor 11, 2). The grace of the Holy Spirit, which came into the life of Saint Teresa of Avila and comes into our lives through the Apostolic ministry, espouses the Church as His Bride to Christ, her one and only Bridegroom. The jealousy of Saint Paul for the members of the Church is the jealousy of Christ Who does not want anyone who has become one with Him through faith and baptism to stray from Him and, thus, lose the gift of eternal salvation in Him.

    The Parable of the Ten Virgins helps us to understand the mystery of Christ’s life at work in the life of Saint Teresa and in each of our lives, producing a rich harvest of holiness of life (cf Mt 15, 1-13). At the same time, it makes clear that Christ’s life in us depends upon our free response, our response of love to His immeasurable and ceaseless love of us in the Church. The wise virgins treasure, most of all, their consecration to the bridegroom and, therefore, they take care that their lamps always burn brightly to receive the bridegroom at his coming. So, too, we who belong totally to Christ, by the works of His love, keep ourselves ready to meet Christ at His Coming, both in the circumstances of our daily Christian life but also on the Last Day, when He will return in glory to restore all creation to the Father. Like the wise virgins, we know that there is nothing more important than to be vigilant, at all times, in waiting for Christ and in welcoming Him into our lives. Our Lord speaks to us at the conclusion of the Parable of the Virgins: “Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour” (Mt 25, 13).

    The foolish virgins grow careless about the gift of their bond with the bridegroom. His coming, therefore, takes them by surprise, and they are not ready to welcome him. So, too, we are tempted to lose the sense of wonder at the great mystery of God’s love which rescues us from the snares of Satan and fills us with divine love. In little and big ways, we are tempted to be inattentive to daily communion with Christ through prayer, devotion, participation in the Holy Eucharist, the daily examination of conscience and act of contrition, and the regular meeting with Christ in the Sacrament of Penance. Instead of giving our hearts totally to Christ, as we are called to do, we begin to live more and more for ourselves and for certain earthly goods and pleasures which, at any given moment, can distract us from the true source of our freedom and joy, Christ, our one and only Bridegroom.

    Saint Teresa is a powerful example of the heroic virginal love of Christ, to which we are all called. From her first intimation of Christ’s call to the religious life, she responded with all her heart. No matter how much resistance she encountered on the way of following Christ in the religious life, especially in the reform of the Carmelite Order, whether it came from her family, from her fellow religious in the Order, or from the society in which she was living, Christ was always first in her life. In a most wonderful way, her joy in spending hours in prayer, especially before the Most Blessed Sacrament, was a sign of her wisdom and fidelity as a bride of her Eucharistic Lord. As a wise virgin, she, through prayer and the life of the Sacraments, kept an abundance of oil for the lamp of her daily Christian living, so that she was always ready to meet our Lord, at His coming.

    May Saint Teresa of Jesus teach us to persevere in trust, as she did in the face of much opposition and many trials. May she assist us in accepting with joy our suffering with Christ, so that we may enjoy with Him the unending joy of His Resurrection. Referring to Saint Teresa’s motto, “To suffer or to die,”[2] Dom Prosper Guéranger, citing the great preacher Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet, reminds us of the timeliness of the spiritual doctrine of Saint Teresa, embodied in her life and death:
    If we are true Christians, we must desire to be ever with Jesus Christ. Now, where are we to find this loving Saviour of our souls? In what place may we embrace Him? He is found in two places: in His glory and in His sufferings; on His throne and on His cross. We must, then, in order to be with Him, either embrace Him on His throne, which death enables us to do; or else share in His cross, and this we do by suffering; hence we must either suffer or die, if we would never be separated from our Lord. Let us suffer then, O Christians; let us suffer what it pleases God to send us: afflictions, sicknesses, the miseries of poverty, injuries, calumnies; let us try to carry, with steadfast courage, that portion of His cross, with which He is pleased to honour us.[3]
    With Saint Teresa, we are certain that, if only we give our hearts to Christ, our one and only Bridegroom, the evils we encounter in our personal lives and in society will be overcome by the immeasurable and enduring truth, goodness and beauty of Christ, which is made visible to us in the Sacred Liturgy, above all, in the offering of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. May Saint Teresa teach us to imitate her in fidelity to prayer and devotion, and to the life of the Sacraments, above all the Holy Eucharist and Penance, so that Christ may transform us and our world, in accord with His unceasing desire that all men be one with Him, that all men be saved for eternal life.

    Let us now lift up our hearts, one with the Immaculate Heart of Mary, to the glorious pierced Heart of Jesus through His Eucharistic Sacrifice. Resting our hearts in His Most Sacred Heart, we will find the healing of our sins and the strength of divine love, in order to do God’s will in all things. Let us, with Mary Immaculate and Saint Teresa of Jesus, be confident that, from His Sacred Heart, there flows unceasingly and without measure the grace of the Holy Spirit, which overcomes sin in our lives and in the world, and prepares us and the world to welcome our Lord, at all times and at His Final Coming, with our lamps burning brightly.

    Heart of Jesus, King and center of all hearts, have mercy on us.
    O Blessed Virgin Mary, Queen assumed into heaven, pray for us.
    Saint Joseph, Foster-Father of Jesus and true Husband of the Virgin Mary, pray for us.
    Saint Norbert, pray for us.
    Saint Teresa of Jesus, pray for us.

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

    + Raymond Leo Cardinal BURKE

    NOTES
    [1] “Arrivée donc à la montagne de Dieu, elle fit le relevé des étapes de la route qu’elle avait parcourue, sans autre prétention que d’obéir à qui lui commandait au nom du Seigneur ; d’une plume exquise de limpidité, d’abandon, elle raconta les œuvres accomplies pour l’Époux ; avec non moins de charmes, elle consigna pour ses filles les leçons de son expérience, décrivit les multiples demeures de ce château de l’âme humaine au centre duquel, pour qui sait l’y trouver, réside en un ciel anticipé la Trinité sainte. Il n’en fallait pas plus ; soustraite aux abstractions spéculatives, rendue à sa sublime simplicité, la Mystique chrétienne attirait de nouveau toute intelligence ; la lumière réveillait l’amour ; et les plus suaves parfums s’exhalaient de toutes parts au jardin de la sainte Église, assainissant la terre, refoulant les miasmes souls lesquels l’hérésie d’alors et sa réforme prétendue menaçaient d’étouffer le monde.” Prosper Guéranger, L’année liturgique, Le temps après la Pentecôte, Tome V, 12ème éd. (Tours: Maison Alfred Mame et Fils, 1925), p. 457. [Guéranger]. English translation: Prosper Guéranger, The Liturgical Year, Time after Pentecost, Book V (Fitzwilliam, NH: Loreto Publications, 2000), pp. 396-397. [GuérangerEng].
    [2] “Souffrir ou mourir!” Guéranger, p. 462. English translation : GuérangerEng, p. 401.
    [3] “Si nous sommes de vrais chrétiens, nous devons désirer d’être toujours avec Jésus-Christ. Or, où le trouve-t-on, cet aimable Sauveur de nos âmes ? En quel lieu peut-on l’embrasser ? On ne le trouve qu’en ces deux lieux : dans sa gloire ou dans ses supplices, sur son trône ou bien sur sa croix. Nous devons donc, pour être avec lui, ou bien l’embrasser dans son trône, et c’est ce que nous donne la mort, ou bien nous unir à sa croix, et c’est ce que nous avons par les souffrances ; tellement qu’il faut souffrir ou mourir, afin de ne quitter jamais le Sauveur. Souffrons donc, souffrons, chrétiens, ce qu’il plaît à Dieu de nous envoyer : les afflictions et les maladies, les misères et la pauvreté, les injures et les calomnies ; tâchons de porter d’un courage ferme telle partie de sa croix dont il lui plaira de nous honorer.” Guéranger, pp. 468-469; GuérangerEng, pp. 406-407.



























    Photographs © Lucie Hornikova, from “Člověk a víra”

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  • 10/24/16--04:17: The Relics of St Boethius
  • As we mentioned earlier this month, the church of San Pietro in Ciel d’Oro in the Italian city of Pavia, which houses the relics of St Augustine, also has those of another Saint, the philosopher and theologian Boethius, whose feast is kept today.

    The first page of a later 14th-century manuscript of Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy, showing him as a teacher of philosophy above, and in prison below. 
    His full name was Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius; the gens Anicia were a very prominent family in ancient Rome, and there is reason to believe that St Gregory the Great was also descended from it. Boethius was born about 480 A.D., and orphaned in youth; his guardian was a member of another very ancient family, one Quintus Aurelius Symmachus, whose daughter Rusticiana he eventually married. (The Vesper hymn of Ss Peter and Paul was long falsely attributed to a non-existent second wife of his called Elpis.) His life was dedicated to the study of both philosophy and theology, and it was largely through his work as a translator that the early Middle Ages knew what it knew of the writings of Plato and Aristotle, as well as Euclid, Archimedes and others. Several of his theological treatises also survive; there is also a famous letter to him from the writer Cassiodorus in which he asks Boethius to make a sundial and waterclock for the king of the Burgundians.

    In the great tradition of the ancient families to which they belonged, Boethius, like his father and father-in-law before him, took an active part in the public life of Italy. By the end of the 5th century, the last Roman Emperor in the West had been removed, and the peninsula was nominally ruled by the Eastern Emperor in Byzantium, but in fact, by the Ostrogothic king Theoderic. Boethius served under Theoderic as the Roman consul in the year 510 A.D., and saw the same ancient honor vested upon his two sons twelve years later. (The fact that they were in their teens shows what the office had been reduced to in reality, but the prestige of it was still very great.) More importantly, he also held the position of the “magister officiorum – the master of the offices,” one of the greatest significance and responsibility.

    Shortly thereafter, Theodoric had come to believe that members of the senate in Rome were plotting with the Emperor to overthrow his kingdom and restore direct control of Italy to Byzantium. When one of their number was charged with this conspiracy, Boethius defended him in court, for which he was also accused of the conspiracy, arrested, imprisoned at Pavia, and condemned to death. During his imprisonment of about nine months, he wrote his most famous work, The Consolation of Philosophy, a lengthy dialogue between himself and Philosophy, in which she consoles him for his misfortunates, and teaches him to regard them with what, largely because of this work, we would now call a “philophical approach.” This exhortation to regard all earthly things as transitory, to value the eternal things which only the mind can apprehend, and to see the world governed by divine wisdom which is always just, was one of the most popular books in the Middle Ages, and many vernacular translation were made of it.

    Boethius was murdered in prison in 524, his death preceded by torture, according to the common tradition. His relics were at first buried in the cathedral of Pavia, but later move to the crypt of St Pietro in Ciel d’Oro. Although his death was essentially a political matter and not inflicted for the Faith, he was popularly venerated as a martyr, since he was unjustly put to death by an Arian heretic. In this sense, he is very similar to the 11th century Princes of the Rus’ Saints Boris and Gleb, also killed for political reasons, but immediately venerated as Saints for their Christ-like acceptance of the injustice inflicted upon them.

    The devotion to Boethius as a saint and martyr is still kept in the city of Pavia, and also in the Roman church of Santa Maria in Campitelli, which was founded by his sister-in-law, St Galla. This devotion was confirmed by Pope Leo XIII in 1883. These photos were also taken by Nicola de’ Grandi during a recent visit to Pavia.

    The entrance to the crypt, under the main sanctuary.
    “The body of St Severinus Boethius, Martyr”
    Next to his relics and altar in the crypt is this well whose water is said to have healing properties. 

    This poetic inscription reads as follows:

    Hoc in sarcophago iacet ecce Boetius arto,
    Magnus et omnimodo mirificandus homo.
    Huncque Sophia suis prae cunctis compsit alumpnis.
    Quam sibi grande decus contulit ipse Deus!
    Consul enim factus cum natis ipse duobus,
    Romae conspicuum et habitus speculum;
    Sparsa per Europam vulgant sua dogmata totam.
    Quam fuit et merito clarus et ingenio
    Nam nobis logicen de graeco transtulit artem,
    Commenti gemino quam reserat radio
    Catholicae verum fidei dedit et documentum
    Et nos informat musica quae resonat.
    Qui Theodorico regi delatus iniquo
    Papiae senium duxit in exilium
    In quo se maestum solans dedit inde libellum
    Post ictus gladio exiit e medio.

    In this narrow sarcophagus lies Boethius,
    A great man, in every way to be marvelled at.
    Wisdom adorned him more than all her students;
    How great a glory did God Himself bestow (upon him).
    For he was made consol, along with his two sons,
    Prominent in Rome, an example of decorum.
    His teachings are shred through all of Europe;
    How famous he was in merit and in genius
    For he translated for us the art of logic from the Greek,
    Which he clearly explained in two commentaries.
    He also gave true proof of the Catholic Faith,
    And teaches us how to play music.
    Accused before the wicked King Theoderic
    He passed his old age in exile at Pavia,
    Where he consoled himself in his sadness by writing a book;
    Afterwards, the blow of a sword took him away.

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    One of the oldest missals, if not the oldest, that the Benedictine Monks of Perpetual Adoration at Silverstream Priory have in their possession is this lavish volume from 1716, the title page of which clearly proclaims that it is a Roman Missal with all the feasts proper to the order of Augustinian hermits.



    As is typical with books of this period, the artwork is monochromatic, while the text features red rubrics (that’s a redundancy of course!) and red capitals. The book is in excellent shape given that it is exactly 300 years old.







    As with all books from this period, we see the charming custom of the first word of the next page printed at the bottom of the preceding page, to aid in smooth reading transition.

    The cover is quite something, too, with its velvet fabric, embossed metal decorations, and clasps.



    No detail has been overlooked: the edge of the book is fancifully ornamented with pin-pricks into the pages to form swirls.



    Looking at a book like this makes me wonder when enterprising bishops will once again begin to commission fine artists to produce hand-made and hand-illustrated missals for pontifical liturgies, or when priests will start to commission Requiem missals, etc.

    The time has come to revive the art of the book, precisely in honor of the most holy and august Sacrament of the Altar — and not in the St. John’s Bible style, with its pretty penmanship but ugly graphics, but in the grand tradition of such books as this Augustinian missal or the illuminated missals of the Middle Ages. Why should we settle for plain, mass-produced books, when we could squander sums of wealth, rare talents, and forces of intelligence and love on unique volumes that will be a sort of solid equivalent of the clouds of incense we burn up solely for the glory of the Lord?


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    The nature of the dividing line between sanctuary and nave in a church has been a hot topic over the years. I raise the subject today not to spill yet more ink in complaining about the removal of altar rails in churches over the last 50 years or so, although it is something I do feel strongly about. Rather, I am interested in trying to establish how, with due regard for tradition, we might encourage in the Roman Rite a renewed engagement with art in the liturgy, in the such a way that it deepens our participation, rather than distracts from it.

    One thing that always strikes me when I go to an Eastern Rite Catholic Church, (recently I have been attending St Elias Melkite Church in Los Gatos, California,) is how much more naturally priest, deacon, cantor and congregation engage with the icons during the liturgy. In contrast, in the Roman Rite, even in traditional congregations, apart from perhaps the crucifix and altarpiece, the choice of art seems to be governed more by the priest’s personal devotion than liturgical considerations, and there appears to be very little engagement with it during the liturgy itself. At best, sacred art provides a decorative backdrop that helps set an appropriate mood for the worship of God with direct engagement in the liturgy itself, which is largely a hands-clasped and eyes-closed activity.

    First a quick presentation of different options available to us.

    According to my research, the original division in both East and West was more like today’s altar rail, with gaps or doors for processing. The typical “transenna” might have looked as this one at Sant’ Apollinarre in Ravenna, which I understand was restored in the 20th century.

    Another example from the 12th century, at San Clemente in Rome, which seems to follow the early traditional style.
    In time, from perhaps the 9th century onwards, the transenna grew upwards into a screen, as in this 9th century example from Santa Maria in Cosmedin in Rome.
    Gradually, we see images being added, as in the Byzantine-Venetian Torcello Cathedral, built in the 7th century, but restored in the 9th and 11th centuries.
    This then developed into the Western rood screen, “rood” being an old English word for the cross. The example below is a 15th century screen from Cornwall in England.
    The lower portion would originally have had images in it, as in this example below from Norfolk. (The cross is now missing.)



    In the East, especially in Russia in the 15th century, we start to see the development of the solid iconostasis, the form that we tend to associate with Eastern churches today. This is a 15th century Russian iconostasis.
    This is the iconostasis of the Melkite Greek-Catholic Cathedral in Jerusalem.
    Even in Eastern churches, icon screens are not always so high as to completely block the view of the apse. Here is a new icon screen from St Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church in Amsterdam.
    In the West, after the Council of Trent, in order to encourage greater connection between congregations and the sanctuary, many rood screens were removed, although they were never formally forbidden. The norm became the communion rail.
    The multi-image altarpiece, the reredos, had developed in prominence - one might even think of it as an iconostasis behind the altar, even before the removal of rood screens. These can be painted or, as in the example above, sculpted.

    Then we have the more recent practice of removing even altar rails.

    Where do we go from here? Assuming due regard for tradition and good practice, what are the choices in regard to the encouragement of engagement with art?

    For the Roman Rite, the critical points seem to me to be this:

    The line between sanctuary and nave should be apparent in order to indicate a “holy ground,” so to speak. This is why I would have altar rails at minimum - the carpeted step does not separate the two areas sufficiently. (I am not expecting much pushback from NLM readers on this!)

    The images that work with the rail, screen and altar must be an integral part of the worship of God in the liturgy. Their positioning, therefore, must be such that at critical moments in the liturgy, our attention is drawn to those images, which in turn direct our attention to the events taking place in a new light. They must be prominent enough that they are seen, but not so prominent that they distract.

    I would opt for communion rail with reredos, or a rood screen, in the Roman Rite, and encourage clergy to engage with images to show us the way, just as I have seen in the Eastern liturgies. In the Eastern liturgies, even when the altar is hidden by the iconostasis, we are aware of what is happening at key moments by audible chant; and the priest or deacon will emerge at specific times to pray before chosen icons and in so doing direct the attention of the congregation to it.

    Maybe this practice of showing us the important images in the course of the liturgy is something that we could do in the Roman Rite - perhaps it might bring deacons or servers into greater prominence in the Mass. Very obviously turning and looking at the image at key moments, censing images that relate to the feast or saint of the day or to the mysteries referred to at moments in the Mass, if done judiciously can, I suggest, increase personal engagement with the truth that the image is pointing us to. 

    When I was working at Thomas More College of Liberal Arts, we gradually renovated an unusually shaped chapel (wider than it is long). We introduced the practice of taking communion on kneelers that were brought to the edge of the sanctuary space by the server during Mass. I painted the art in order to encourage this engagement. We did look into creating a raised rood screen, but architecturally it would have been too expensive, so instead we put a low hanging cross at the point where the screen would have been. The image of the cross was designed so that when in the eucharistic prayer the priest says the words, 'In humble prayer we ask you, almighty God: command that these gifts be borne by the hands of your holy Angel to your altar on high in the sight of your divine majesty,...' We can see the angel at the foot of the cross supporting Christ in sight of the Christ in Majesty behind. At the end of every Mass, we sang the St Michael Prayer and said angelus - the priest would face the image of St Michael and Our Lady when he did this, the servers and the congregation followed his lead.


    This photo was taken before the Christ in Majesty which is 6ft x 3ft was painted and erected in the middle, up high on the back wall.



    Similarly, the practice in Eastern Rite churches of putting a special icon for the day into prominence on a stand in front of the iconstasis could perhaps be introduced in some way in the Roman Rite, by putting the relevant image front and center in the nave, before altar rail or rood screen.

    All of these ideas are made on the further assumption that good judgment is exercised in considering the styles of art and in the canon of imagery on the reredos or rood screen. I have already written many times on the consideration of style, but in a future article will discuss possible principles that might be applied for the development of an appropriate canon of imagery for today.

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    The text of the lecture I gave in Prague for the launch of the Czech translation of Resurgent in the Midst of Crisis is now available at Rorate. A few excerpts:

    Prior to all arguments about which practice is better or worse is the overarching principle of the primacy of tradition, meaning the inherent claim that our religious inheritance, handed down from our forefathers, makes on us. We do not “own” this gift, much less “produce” it. Tradition comes to us from above, from God who providentially designed us as social animals who inherit our language, our culture, and our religion; it comes to us from our ancestors, who are called antecessores in Latin—literally, the ones who have gone before. They are ahead of us, not behind us; they have finished running the race, and we stand to benefit from their collective wisdom. St. Paul states the principle in 1 Thessalonians 4:1: “We pray and beseech you in the Lord Jesus, that as you have received from us how you ought to walk and to please God, so also you would walk, that you may abound the more.”
    The rejection of tradition and the cult of change embodies a peculiarly modern attitude of “mastery over tradition,” which is the social equivalent of Baconian and Cartesian “mastery over nature.” The combination of capitalism and technology has allowed us to abuse the natural world, treating it as raw material for exploitation, in pursuit of the satisfaction of our selfish desires. In a similar way, the influence of rationalism and individualism has tempted us to treat Catholic tradition as if it were a collection of isolated facts from which we, who are autonomous and superior, can make whatever selection pleases us. In adopting this arrogant stance, we fail to recognize, with creaturely humility, that our rationality is socially constituted and tradition-dependent. By failing to honor our antecessores, we fail to live according to our political nature and our Christian dignity as recipients of a concrete historical revelation that endures and develops organically over time and space.[4] The Psalm verse comes to mind: “Know ye that the Lord, he is God: he made us, and not we ourselves” (Ps 99[100]:3). Ipse fecit nos et non ipsi nos. We do not make ourselves, nor do we make our religion or our liturgies; we receive our existence, we receive our faith, we receive our worship. Tradition comes to us from outside ourselves, before and beyond us. It unambiguously expresses our dependence on God—as creatures, as Christians, as coheirs with the saints. An heir is one who inherits, not the “self-made man” of capitalism. 
    St. Paul states to the Romans: “Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Rom 12:2). Massively changing the liturgy to make it apparently more suited to “modern man” was, in fact, a form of yielding and conforming to the world rather than standing all the more firmly over against it with a supernatural alternative, holding fast what was already known to be “good and acceptable and perfect.”[8] While earlier ages of the Church witnessed the enrichment of the liturgy with elements from the cultures through which it passed, there had never been, prior to the twentieth century, a systematic attempt to reconfigure the liturgy according to the pattern of a certain epoch or worldview. There had been pruning and adjustment, but never wholesale reconstruction and whole-cloth invention. The very ambition to attempt such an audacious feat could have arisen only in an age bedazzled by the Myth of Progress—a myth that played upon the well-known gullibility of rationalists and romantics alike. The liturgical reformers for the most part surrendered to the temptation without resistance, like springtime lovers in Paris. We could adapt what St. Paul says elsewhere in the Epistle to the Romans: “they became vain in their thoughts, and their foolish heart was darkened” (Rom 1:21).

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    This coming Sunday, the EF feast of Christ the King, the St. Michael’s Cathedral Basilica in Toronto, Canada, will host a Solemn High Mass to mark the tenth anniversary of the founding of St. Patrick’s Gregorian Choir, directed by Surinder S. Mundra. The Mass begins at 2:00 p.m; the church is located at  65 Bond Street in Toronto. His Eminence Thomas Card. Collins will deliver the homily.


    For more information, see the Facebook page of the St Patrick’s Gregorian Choir, and the cathedral’s bulletin page. Besides being the 10th anniversary Mass of the choir’s formation, this is also the first Mass in the Extraordinary Form to be celebrated in the cathedral of Toronto, since the promulgation of the post-Conciiar reforms. Following a beautiful restoration, St Michael's Cathedral has recently been declared a basilica.

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    On October 26, Byzantine Christians celebrate with great solemnity the feast of St Demetrius of Thessalonica, a soldier and martyr of the early 4th century, whose popularity is almost as great as that of another warrior, St George. The traditional story of his life is that he succeeded his father as military commander at Thessalonica, but was imprisoned by the Emperor Maximian (286-305) for not only refusing his orders to persecute the Christians, but openly preaching the Gospel.

    Maximian had a favorite gladiator, a very large German named Lyaeus, who, at his behest, challenged any Christian to wrestle him on a platform surrounded by spears. A Christian named Nestor, brave, but very small of stature, visited Demetrius in prison and received his blessing, after which he wrestled and beat Lyaeus, hurling him down onto the spears. In his anger at losing his favorite gladiator, Maximian sent his soldiers to the prison, where they speared Demetrius him though the chest, while Nestor was killed the following day.

    This story forms the tropar of St Demetrius’ feast day.


    The world has found you to be a great defense against tribulation, and a vanquisher of heathens, O Passion-bearer. As you bolstered the courage of Nestor, who then humbled the arrogance of Lyaios in battle, Holy Demetrius, entreat Christ God to grant us great mercy.
    Kontakion God, who has given you invincible might, has tinged the Church with streams of your blood, Demetrius! He preserves your city from harm, for you are its foundation! Devotion to St

    Demetrius has always been very strong among the Slavs, particularly as a patron of soldiers, as witnessed by the popularity of the name Dmitry. Attempts have even been made to claim him as a Slav, since he was supposed to be originally from the city of Sirmium, (now called Mitrovica, in Serbia), in the area of the Balkan peninsula where the Slavs first settled in Europe, but only in the 6th century. His patronage of soldiers was reaffirmed in modern times during the First Balkan War (Oct. 1912 – May 1913), when Thesssalonica was liberated from Ottoman control and united to Greece on his feast day in 1912. He is also honored with the titles “Great-Martyr”, as one who suffered much for the Faith, “Myrrh-gusher” from the tradition that streams of scented oil came forth from his relics, and “Wonderworker” many miracles attributed to him.

    Icon of St Demetrius by Andrei Rublev (and follower), ca. 1425, from the Trinity Cathedral in the Trinity-Sergius Lavra.
    The Byzantine Synaxarion, (equivalent to the Martyrology) also still notes on this day a terrible earthquake which took place in Constantinople in the year 740, which killed thousands of people and did terrible damage to the city and its walls. This was the year before the death of the first iconoclast Emperor, Leo the Isaurian, and it was generally believed that the earthquake was a divine punishment for the iconoclast heresy. By an interesting coincidence, there has been some significant earthquake activity in central Italy today, in the same area where two months ago a major earthquake which did so much damage in Norcia and some of the nearby towns. Thus far, the damage appears to be minimal, and no fatalities have been reported, but please remember to pray for the safety of the people in that area.

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    We have been asked by the organizers of the Populus Summorum Pontificum Pilgrimage to help spread the following news: due to the earthquake activity which took place yesterday evening in central Italy, the events scheduled for today in Norcia have been cancelled. The city is still recovering from the earthquake back in August, and the long series of aftershocks. This evening, the pilgrimage events will begin at 6 pm at the FSSP church in Rome, Santissima Trinità dei Pellegrini, with a Rosary at 6 pm, followed by Low Mass at 6:30 celebrated by the pilgrimag chaplain, Fr Claude Barthe.

    Abp Alexander Sample, who will celebrate the main Mass of the pilgrimage on Saturday at St Peter’s, is in Norcia, where he celebrated Mass this morning for the Benedictine Monks.


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    Years ago in Austria, I found a small rare book, called on its cover Franz von Assisi, and on its title page Legenden vom Heiligen Franz. The pocket-sized book, only 106 pages, contains selections from The Little Flowers of Saint Francis, translated by Karl Toth and illustrated by Maximilian Liebenwein. It appeared as part of the Kleine Amalthea-Bücherei from the Amalthea Verlag, Zürich-Wien-Leipzig, in 1921.

    The illustrations are vigorous, clear, and dramatic, with the strong graphic design of their time period. Of particular note are the eight full-color plates, which were printed with gold, blue, and red, and then colored in with pencils.
    From the 1921 edition in German
    That was more than 15 years ago. Every once in a while, I would take the book down from my shelf and wonder anew at its artistry. After deciding that a simple facsimile, though doubtless intriguing to a German speaker, would do little for those of Anglophonic readership, my son and I set to work scanning the images and compiling the stories from an elegant English translation of The Little Flowers in the public domain, so that we could bring out a new edition and share this wonderful artwork with others.

    We began with the stories that were already in the German volume, but as we went along, the charm of other stories worked on us irresistibly, and so we added them, too — hence the larger size of our volume. It is not the complete Little Flowers, but it delivers a respectable portion of classic stories about St. Francis and his early companions. These stories bring us face-to-face and heart-to-heart with the real St. Francis and with his genuine followers: radical Catholics; ascetics, holy fools, and mystics of the Mass; enthralling in their colorfulness, yet a challenge to our modern assumptions and an antidote to our contemporary poisons. There is much in these pages that Catholics have forgotten and need to recover. But I digress . . .

    The book is available in two versions — a hardcover from Lulu (on the left in the photo below) and a paperback from CreateSpace (on the right; also available at Amazon). Both of these are 6" x 9", that is, much larger than the original volume.


    Although the cover designs are different, the interior content is identical: 114 pages, with eight full-page color illustrations and 19 black and white drawings. Decorative red capitals are liberally spread throughout the book. (Note that the previews at Lulu and Amazon do not include any of the full-color pages — a good reason to share some more photos here.) The size of the print and the fine illustrations make it an ideal book for older children or for reading aloud. This is something I tested with my own family; the book was a great success.








    My favorite of all the pages
    I hope you will enjoy these stories and illustrations as much as we have.

    The hardcover is available for purchase at Lulu.

    The paperback is available for purchase atCreateSpaceor Amazon.


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    St Demetrius the Great Martyr, whose feast day we noted yesterday, is also the titular Saint of the Byzantine Catholic cathedral of Piana degli Albanesi in Sicily. The Byzantine churches in southern Italy descend partly from the Greek communities which were formerly very numerous in that region, and partly from Albanians who fled from the Turkish invasion of their lands into Italy in the 15th century. (Hence the distinction “degli Albanesi - of the Albanians”; Albano and Albanese are both fairly common last names in Italy.) Their liturgy is therefore celebrated in a mix of Greek and Arberesh, a literary form of Albanian from about 400 years ago.

    Their patronal feast yesterday was also the occasion of a diaconal ordination; congratulations to the new deacon, Giuseppe Miceli. (From the Facebook page of the Friends of the Eparchy of Piana degli Albanesi.)











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    I am pleased to announce the appearance of a new downloadable magazine, Altare Dei, the content of which will certainly be of interest to readers of NLM. From the publisher:

    "Altare Dei will present in English featured articles not only by people in the Anglo-Saxon world, but also by European theologians and liturgists whose work will be translated. We hope in this way to promote a wider awareness of the good work that is taking place in different countries and language spheres. Each issue will also feature an insert of sacred music scores. The inaugural issue contains 6 original pieces (12 pages of music) from fine contemporary Church composers.

    "The cost of the issue is 6 Euros (ca. $7 US). You can download the PDF right away, no shipping fees."

    Here is the table of contents of the first issue:

    EDITORIAL
    Aurelio Porfiri

    TOP STORY
    "Challenging the great liturgical narrative"
    Aurelio Porfiri

    LITURGICAL THEOLOGY
    "Proclaiming the Kingdom of God through Preaching and Sacraments"
    David W. Fagerberg

    LITURGY
    "Applause in Church"
    Serafino Tognetti

    "Vatican II and the Reform of the Mass"
    Peter A. Kwasniewski

    "The Role of Psalmody in Catholic Worship"
    David M. Friel

    INTERVIEW
    Three questions for Archbishop Agostino Marchetto

    WITNESSES
    Benedict XVI

    MUSICAL INSERT
    Alleluia, Ego Sum Pastor Bonus (SATB and Organ) by Mauro Visconti
    Song of Ruth (SATB and Organ) by Colin Mawby
    Iustorum Animae (3 Equal voices) by Aurelio Porfiri
    Puer Natus (3 Equal voices and Organ) by Valentino Miserachs
    Amen (SATB and Organ) by Aurelio Porfiri
    O Salutaris Hostia (ATB) by Aurelio Porfiri

    CATECHISM ON THE MASS/1
    Enrico Zoffoli

    PROFILES
    "Cornelio Fabro, Christ’s Priest"
    Rosa Goglia

    SACRED MUSIC
    "My life at 80"
    Colin Mawby

    "Remembering Armando Renzi"
    Valentino Miserachs

    SACRED ART
    "Catholic Painting as 'Living Writing'"
    Rodolfo Papa

    For more information, see here.

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    St. Margaret Mary Church in Oakland, California, was the site for the celebration of the Jubilee Mass of the Rev. Jeffrey Keyes on October 23. The Mass in the Extraordinary Form marked the external solemnity of the parish’s patronal feast, with a commemoration of the 23rd Sunday after Pentecost.

    Fr. Keyes was assisted by the Rev. Joseph Illo as deacon, and Abbé Kevin, ICKSP, as subdeacon, as well as the servers of St. Margaret Mary Parish.
    Fr. Keyes, who now works as a chaplain and high school teacher in the diocese of Santa Rosa, will continue his Jubilee with a Mass in St. Eugene’s Cathedral, Santa Rosa, on October 29, at 4 p.m. in the presence of his former student Most Rev. Steven Lopes, Ordinary of the Personal Ordinariate of the Chair of St. Peter.
    The author of the blog Omnia Christus Est Nobis, Fr. Keyes is a member of the Church Music Association of America and is a regular attendee of the annual Colloquium sponsored by the organization.


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