Photopost Request: Candlemas 2017

January 30, 2017, 4:04 am

≫ Next: A Defense of Liturgy as “Carolingian Court Ritual”

≪ Previous: Actual Apocrypha in the Liturgy

Our next major photopost will be for the feast of Candlemas; please send your photos of the Blessing of Candles, the Procession and the Mass to photopost@newliturgicalmovement.org for inclusion. We are always glad to receive photographs of celebrations in either Form of the Roman Rite, or any of the Eastern rites. Please be sure to include the name and location of the church, and always feel free to add any other information you think important. Evangelize through beauty!

Candlemas last year at Holy Innocents in New York City: a candle decorated for the blessing by a parishioner, a custom of her native Poland, and the distribution of candles.

↧

A Defense of Liturgy as “Carolingian Court Ritual”

January 30, 2017, 9:43 am

≫ Next: “There Will Be Blood” - Lessons on Introducing Good Music Into a Parish

≪ Previous: Photopost Request: Candlemas 2017

Fr. Anthony Ruff, O.S.B., regnant spirit of PrayTell and heir to Collegeville’s long line of liturgical iconoclasts and modernizers, has this to say about the “paradigm shifts” inaugurated by the Second Vatican Council:

The Council fathers didn’t get into all the specifics of the reform of the liturgy. They left most of that to a future commission under the pope. The fathers approved a major paradigm shift — from liturgy as Carolingian clerical drama to liturgy as act of all the people — and then left open what the implications of that shift would be. No doubt some or many of the fathers didn’t yet have in mind all the possible implications of the paradigm shift. Nor did they need to.

One wonders how many of the fathers of the Council would have said that the traditional liturgy as they knew it was “Carolingian clerical drama” and that they wanted to shift liturgy to an “act of all the people” in such a way that they expected no limitations on how the liturgy would be modified in order to achieve this nebulous vision. This would not match the historical records as we have them, but rewriting or ignoring history has been a speciality of the progressives for a long time now. Fr. Ruff again:

It’s time to say it: the so-called “hermeneutic of continuity” proposed by Benedict XVI in 2005 has outlived its usefulness as a tool for understanding the Second Vatican Council. Its proponents, who frequently carry the proposal further than Benedict ever did, have shown in abundance that the proposal obscures rather than clarifies the paradigm shifts clearly called for by the Council. For liturgy, the paradigm shift is from Carolingian clericalized sacred drama to an act of the entire community. Just let the full weight of that shift sink in, including all the possible implications for liturgical practice. There is a reason why the Fathers of Vatican II decided that the 1962 missal would not remain in use in its unreformed state.

This “hermeneutic of continuity” was and is, in fact, one of Pope Benedict XVI’s great contributions to the Church, and to the healing of so many rifts. Indeed, we might note that the hermeneutic of continuity is already present as a matter of principle in John XXIII’s opening speech, when he states that the Council is based on a serene acceptance of all that has come before, in all the Councils (mentioning Trent and Vatican I by name), and aims to share the riches of the Catholic Faith with the modern world. If this Johannine-Benedictine claim is true, it undermines the progressive modus operandi, which introduces a deep rift between preconciliar and postconciliar Catholicism. Were it false, however, it would undermine the Council itself, because there cannot be a valid Council that seeks to separate itself from the inheritance of nineteen centuries of Catholicism, including all of its ecumenical councils and its liturgical tradition.

But leaving aside the abrasive nuisance of truth for a moment, let us look at Fr. Ruff’s mention of the Carolingians. The Carolingians are so useful as a conceptual reference point that even if they had not existed we would have had to invent them. The simple fact is that we know so little about the liturgy of the pre-Carolingian period that liturgists can attribute almost anything they want, i.e., anything they personally dislike, to the Carolingians, as an excuse to say that it is not “primitive,” and must therefore be expunged. References to the Carolingians and the supposed “purer” worship of their predecessors is to be taken with a Malta-sized grain of salt.

Moreover, if “clericalism” is supposed to be the problem, the Novus Ordo is a thousand times more clericalist than the old Mass could ever be. “Participation” in the new liturgy is effectively defined by lay usurpation of historically clerical roles, such as reading the Scriptures, and giving out Communion. The clerical nature of these roles is underlined by the fact that is still illicit for a layman to read the Gospel and for the celebrant to not distribute Communion. Lay participation in good music, in meditation and prayer, have been effectively obliterated by a noisy showmanship which is encouraged and well-nigh universal.

It is often said that the old liturgy is characterized by courtliness or court etiquette, that it is mixed up with (and corrupted by) expressions of Baroque secular politics. For partisans of this view, the traditional Mass — think especially the Pontifical Mass— is an elaborate show of deference towards a prince or king, indebted more to secular high culture than to sacred precedent, and detracts from the humility, simplicity, authenticity, and immediacy of the presence of Christ in the community, the brotherhood gathered around the table. Sounds plausible, does it not? But there are some nagging counterindications that deserve the attention of honest inquirers.

In The Treasure of the Church, J. B. Bagshaw argues to the intimate connection between royalism or royalty and temple liturgy, and how, as a result, the image of “the court of the great king” was early adapted to Christian liturgy and everywhere accepted as a normative, though not exclusive, conceptual framework — something it obviously already is in both the Old and New Testaments. In Bagshaw’s words:

The very fabric of the church suggests the presence of God, and the adornment of the altar carries out the same idea. In principle it is very like the splendour and ceremonial of the king’s court. It is impossible for men to have royalty amongst them, and yet not have some external sign by which the king is pointed out and honoured. The ceremonial has, of course, differed widely at different times, but from the earliest king that ever ruled amongst men down to our own time, there has always been a royal display of some kind. It is impossible, in the same way, for men to believe that our Lord is amongst them and not to lavish on Him their most precious treasures, just as it was impossible for St. Mary Magdalen not to pour out her precious ointment on His feet (Jn 12:3).

The church is His palace, and the altar is His throne. We take that glorious court of Heaven described to us in Holy Scripture, and try feebly to imitate it on earth. The candles, and the incense, and the flowers — the vestments and the ceremonial of priests — what are they, but an earthly image of that “great multitude which no man could number … clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands,” and of “all the angels who stood about the throne, and the ancients and the four living creatures, and they fell down before the throne upon their faces and adored God”? (Rev 7:9–11)

We cannot dismiss this language or imagery, pervasive in Scripture and the Patristic period, as a mere epiphenomenon of ancient near Eastern courts and kings, a superficial mood-setting backdrop quickly or easily left behind by “emancipated” minds. For the same reality, and therefore the same conceptual world, extends throughout the Byzantine emperors who reigned for over a thousand years after Constantine the Great; it embraces medieval courts, Renaissance courts, Baroque courts, and the professedly Catholic governments that existed well into the twentieth century.

Monarchy or princedom, the oldest and arguably the most natural form of political organization, has been a far more consistent part of the human experience and of the formation of Christian culture than the democratic/egalitarian ideology of “self-evident truths” of which we have persuaded ourselves in modernity. Regardless of whether we think democracy can be made to work or not, in the realm of supernatural mysteries, Christianity is purely and entirely monarchical. Against the backdrop of the Old Testament revelation of God as the (one and only) great King over all the earth, and of the people of Israel as a kingly, priestly people ruled by prophets, judges, and ultimately the Davidic dynasty, we profess that Christ is our King, the Lord of heaven and earth, of all times, past, present, and to come, of this world and of the next; that His angels and saints are His royal court; that He deigns to call us His friends and brethren, yes, but such that we know that we never cease to be His servants. We long for His courts and tabernacles. The thick “politicism” of the imagery points to the real, sovereign polity of the Mystical Body, subsisting in the Roman Catholic Church as a societas perfecta and altogether perfected in the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the great King. Our ecclesial sacrifice, the Most Holy Eucharist, is a kingly and high-priestly oblation.

Consequently, the modern fixation on democracy, as if it were the best or the only good form of government, not only does not abolish our need for the language of kingship and courtliness, but makes it far more needed than ever before, in order to impress on our minds the way things really stand in the definitive reality of the kingdom of God. All of our democratic and egalitarian experiments will fall away at the end of time, as the glorious reign of Christ the King is revealed to all the nations, and those who have submitted to His gentle yoke will be raised to eternal life in glorified flesh while those who have rejected Him will wail and gnash their teeth, condemned to eternal fire in unending torment. The liturgy should reflect the truth of God — His absolute monarchy, His paternal rule, His hierarchical court in the unspeakable splendor of the heavenly Jerusalem — and not the passing truths of our modern provisional political organizations, or, in other words, that continual redesign of the liturgy, in language and ceremonies and ministers, for which the noveltymongers are agitating.

In short, to conduct the liturgy so that it appears to be less courtly, less regal, less splendid, less hieratic, is to make it appear to be that which it is not — to make it less truthful, less heavenly, less real. In this way it deceives the People of God, who are led further away from an encounter with the God whom no hands have fashioned, no mind fathomed. It is one of many ironies of our time that, in the new regime inaugurated by the “spirit of Vatican II,” the only “courtiers” are those who prance about in their vernacular theater in the round, turning a sublime sacrifice into a sorry spectacle from which the angels avert their gaze.

If the way the liturgy is conducted allows people to think that the Mass is about them; that they are its primary protagonists; that the priests are somewhat like hired public servants who administer, in the name of the community, the business which actually belongs to it, such a liturgy is inculcating a pernicious lie.[1] The liturgy is not “of the people, by the people, and for the people.” It is the saving act of Christ, done by Him first and always, and by the ordained ministers who act in His name and by His authority; it is done for the glorification of God and only for that reason does it sanctify the people. One can say the liturgy is for us in the same way that one can say we ought to love ourselves, namely, by loving God first and foremost, with the sacrificial offering of ourselves in mind and body, which is how we truly love ourselves.

One of the greatest blessings of the traditional Latin liturgy, therefore, is its pure, open, unembarrassed representation of the court of the great King of all the earth, in all of its prayers, rubrics, and ceremonies, and in the magnificent art forms that emerged from its “courtliness” and reinforce the “drama” of the holy mysteries of our redemption. We find in it an uncompromised and unapologetic expression of the divine monarchy as it radiates through the panoply of sacred symbols and the ecclesiastical hierarchy endowed with fatherly potency. We are wrapped in an atmosphere of spiritual aristocracy, namely, the world of the saints, who reign with Christ as his vicegerents. After all, this liturgy was not produced by a committee of experts, as laws and bills are manufactured in contemporary parliaments or congresses, but emerged slowly over time from innumerable currents of doctrine and devotion espoused by an elite of pious souls and assimilated by God-fearing laity. The traditional liturgy, in short, challenges everything modern man has come to take for granted, everything he has persuaded himself to believe “self-evident.” It throws down the gauntlet to our modern assumptions, routines, and expectations. It is an enormous challenge to our collective social hubris and cultural pride. This is why it is hated and feared by those who embrace modernity as a primary value, giving value to all else; this is why it is passionately loved by those who recognize in it a call to a higher, deeper, and better way of thinking, loving, and living.

NOTE

[1] Ratzinger saw all this very clearly. In his seminal essay “The Ecclesiology of Lumen Gentium,” he noted that the phrase “the People of God” quickly gave rise to a fundamental and dangerous misconception of the nature of the Church. He saw, too, the liturgical implications of this politicized (Marxist or democratic) ecclesiology; see especially “The Image of the World and of Human Beings in the Liturgy and Its Expression in Church Music,” in A New Song for the Lord, trans. Martha M. Matesich (New York: Crossroad, 1997), 111–27; also in Collected Works, vol. XI, Theology of the Liturgy (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2014), 443–60.

↧

“There Will Be Blood” - Lessons on Introducing Good Music Into a Parish

January 31, 2017, 7:16 am

≫ Next: EF Candlemas Celebration in Palo Alto, California

≪ Previous: A Defense of Liturgy as “Carolingian Court Ritual”

After my recent article on music, “Breaking Bad, Why Misalette Music is Destroying the Faith”, a number of readers who are choir directors contacted me asking for practical help on introducing chant to parishes that currently use praise and worship music.

For those people, I pass on a detailed account of the experiences of one choir director at a small church in rural Georgia, Our Lady of the Mountains. He describes how he and the pastor had worked together to win over the parish. This is not intended as a formula that will be right for every parish, but I hope some will see how the principles he is using might be applied in their own situation.

As an aside, it is interesting to me that the development of a Catholic ethos in their worship is connected to the process of improving the music in the liturgy; and strongly connected to that is the commissioning of many works of art that were related to the liturgy. The question as to how a small parish can commission so many works of art is one that will be dealt with in future article,

The title of this post comes from a phrase in a section at the end of this choir director’s piece. It is perhaps a little melodramatic in choice of language, but the point is well made. He makes it plain that however sensitively and diplomatically the director handles the changes he makes, he is never going to convince everyone. Liturgical music is an emotional subject for many, and some people are likely to object; some of those will do so forcefully, and do all they can to undermine the changes. So while we ought to do all we can to win people over, he says, we must accept that some won’t be, and not be deterred by that fact. Nonetheless, I should point out that the tone of the article is generally optimistic!

I suspect that there is no single formula for this task of changing management, and finding the right approach will depend on many variables. What is done will depend on how great the divide between the current situation and the ideal; on whether you have the support of your priest, and that of your bishop when complaints are made, and so on. Also, the approach will be different depending on whether or not we are talking about the EF or the OF, the additional flexibility of which can be helpful. Therefore, I encourage people to post their own experiences of doing this successfully in the comments below, for others to read.

I present one additional point of my own based upon my own experience. I suggested to one choir director who told me that his priest was not interested in seeing any changes in the Mass, that he might find a group that would commit to singing Lauds or Vespers in the church every week on Sunday. Although one would hope that the priest would want to be involved, he doesn’t have to be, and if one doesn’t demand his presence, he is less likely to object.

Another example of a slightly different situation, but also relevant: I was looking for a place to hold a series of weekly workshops explaining spiritual exercises directed toward discernment of personal vocation, each of which would close with the chanting of Vespers. I approached the pastor of a local Catholic Church and explained what we planned to do, including the fact that we would chant Vespers. I didn’t know his views on traditional chant, one would guess from his Sunday Masses that it was not a big interest of his. However, this wasn’t an issue in our discussion, because our group wasn’t looking to interfere at all in anything he did. On that basis, he very happily allowed us to meet in the church hall and we are delighted to be there. (For any who are close to the East Bay in California and would like to come, here are the details of The Vision for You Group.)

The point I am making here is that if you find that you have to change things gradually (which will be unavoidable in some situations), see if you can establish also some aspect of the liturgy in which you have full control, and the ideal is presented in its fullest form. Then it is there for people to see right at the start, and this will inspire them to be involved in the main project. Again, I would welcome readers’ thoughts on this.

So here is the article; it can also be found online at the church’s website.

When the pastor of Our Lady of the Mountains, Fr. Charles Byrd, first called me, he had a vision, and he needed my experience and training to help make that vision a reality. He didn’t have much to offer in the way of compensation, but what he did offer was his complete support and trust. I in turn was motivated by his love for the Church and Her Divine Worship. He sought to be obedient in word and deed, and he knew that sacred music was a part of that obedience. His attention to the details of our worship was enough to make me want to be part of the village, but I trusted him to be the chief.

Step One: A spirit of trust and cooperation between pastor and music director. It’s got to flow both ways.

The resources that Fr. Byrd had inherited when he came to Our Lady of the Mountains were dismal. The Third Edition of the Roman Missal gave us the opportunity we needed to cast aside some of the less-than-adequate books that were in the pews and look at some of the new hymnals and missals that were being published. A committee was formed to evaluate several hymnals based on a set of standards drawn up from a compilation of the various church documents pertaining to sacred music. Did the hymnal contain at least some of the Latin chant settings for Mass? Did it contain a chant-like or polyphonic English Mass setting? Were the hymns noble in form and in conformity with Catholic doctrine in text? Were the chants from Jubilate Deo included in the hymnal?
Since we couldn’t afford to replace the hymnals and the missalette at the same time, we chose a hymnal first. The St. Michael Hymnal offered us a bit of a carrot in that Richard Rice’s simple Entrance Antiphons were included, and we saw this as a first step in moving away from the hymn-dominated liturgies to which the congregation was accustomed. For the choir, we purchased The Choral Gradual, also by Richard Rice. These SATB settings of the Psalms are a perfect introduction to singing the propers, and since the choir members were accustomed to singing hymns in four parts, this was a good way of transitioning from melody-driven music to more chant-like antiphon and verse music. The Chabanel Psalms by Jeff Ostrowski made it possible for us to have a dignified Responsorial Psalm in place each week.

We simply stopped using the rhythmic and syncopated psalms that were in the paperback missal in the pews and starting singing the Chabanel settings. The congregation leaned to listen and sing back what they had heard. Fr. Byrd always joined in with their singing as a means of instructing by example

Step 2: Choose a permanent (non-disposable) hymnal and other resources that uphold the Church’s vision for renewal of the sacred liturgy as prescribed in the documents of the Second Vatican Council and that draw abundantly upon the Church’s treasury of chant.

With our new hymnal in place, we could begin introducing the concept of an Entrance Antiphon. Like most parishes in the United States, the congregation knew little to nothing about such things as propers. We had to start small, so the first few weeks all we did was sing the antiphon through twice — choir or cantor first and then the congregation, following then with a hymn.

Over time, we added verses along with the antiphon, with the people singing after each verse. Eventually, the “opening hymn” was replaced with the proper texts of the Mass and the congregation was singing the antiphon heartily. Concurrent to this, we were using the hymnal to learn a new English Mass setting for Ordinary Time and a Latin Mass setting for Advent and Lent.

Eventually, we learned yet another Latin setting, Missa de Angelis, for Eastertide and Christmastide. Fr. Byrd was instrumental in teaching the Latin Mass settings because he would sing them not only for Sunday Masses, but at the Masses he offered daily. Those daily Mass attendees learn the chants quickly and are very helpful when it comes to singing in the larger Sunday congregations. Chanting the dialogue prayers was also seen as an essential element and crucial to the overall vision. The pastor placed great emphasis on learning these chants as the General Instruction directs that these should take primacy in singing the Mass.

Step 3: Start small. We didn’t have all the resources that we needed at once, but we worked with what we had. Stay simple, but keep it noble. Introduce new things gradually.

Step 4: This is crucial: Start growing a children’s choir! Children take naturally to chant. They have no hang-ups about Latin. They do everything with enthusiasm and pure joy, and it is contagious. Purchase enough of the Liber Cantualis for each singer to have one. They are small and fit small hands perfectly. Children love singing from them! Teach solfege. Teach neumes. Teach easy polyphony. Teach proper vocal technique. Identify gifted young singers early and begin training them. The children in turn will become advocates for your sacred music program (part of the village), not to mention your future adult choir members.

With forward-looking folks on the Parish Finance Council (it helps to make a member of the choir the Finance Chairperson!), it took about a year to have the money in place to order permanent pew missals. We didn’t form a committee for selecting our pew missals, but Fr. Byrd and I did have a standard by which we would evaluate our options. At the time we were looking, the only viable option based on our standards was Adam Bartlett’s Lumen Christi Missal. Other fine missals were in the works, it seems, but the Lumen Christi Missal was already available and it had everything that we were looking for: the Lectionary Readings and Antiphons for Sundays and major Feasts and music for chanting the Proper of the Mass in the vernacular.

Remember, we were starting from scratch, so our choir members were also learning about sacred music along with the rest of the congregation. Most of the choir at the time consisted of untrained singers who gave generously of their time, but were nowhere near ready to sing the chants from the Graduale Romanum. We needed exactly what the Lumen Christi Missal offered: simple but dignified modal chant settings of the antiphons in English with organ accompaniment if needed. We knew that our choir and cantors would eventually progress to the point of singing from the G.R., so it was good that the Lumen Christi Missal provided the Latin text of the proper alongside its English translation for the congregation. No one will be able to complain that they don’t know what the choir is singing because they can’t understand Latin.

Step 5: Make the Finance Council part of your village. It doesn’t hurt to have a member of the choir (or two) on the Finance Council, the Pastoral Council, the Knights of Columbus…you get the point.

Step 6: Purchase a permanent pew missal that comes complete with music resources for your cantors, choirs, and organist.

And speaking of organists, Step 7 is, Get an organ and hire an organist (or make one, as we did – more about that in a minute). The only instrument in the church when Fr. Byrd arrived was an electronic piano. There was no money in the budget to purchase an organ, but about a year into our work of singing the Mass, an anonymous donor came forward with the money. They had been moved by the efforts of our village and convinced by the effect that sacred music was having on our parish. Read that again: convinced by the effect of sacred music. A transformation was occurring among the choir members and the congregation. A deeper spirituality was blossoming in the hearts and minds of those called to worship. The gift of the organ was a result of this new reality, but where does one find an organist willing to drive to this out-of-the-way place to work with a nascent sacred music program? As it would happen, the pianist we had hired to play the little Kawai was about to become an organist. Again, the Finance Council was instrumental in providing the funds we needed to pay for organ lessons, and the Cathedral organist agreed to work with our young and gifted pianist.

Step 8: Invest in your people. Pay good cantors. Hire section leaders. Pay for workshops and education like the CMAA Colloquium and/or lessons for a singer or an organist. The money saved from not being vested in the Big Three church music conglomerates can go a long way when spread about the village. Since we are on the topic of education, I’ll mention here that it was and continues to be a big component of our sacred music program. Whether through the bulletin, a homily, classes, handouts, or our website, olmjasper.com, we sought first to prepare good fertile soil into which we would be sowing seed.

All of this takes time and careful planning. Read that again: Time and Planning. When we would introduce the Missa de Angelis was as important as how and why. Why we sing an Entrance Antiphon instead of a “Gathering Song” was as important as how we did it. We prepared for months in advance of the new missal. At times, our bulletin was so packed with inserts that it more resembled a magazine than a pamphlet. Fr. Byrd developed a website with formation and education as its primary goals. Yes, the Mass time and directions to the parish are there, but so are articles expounding upon various saints or hymns or any number of topics that make for a better formed Catholic. Music training sound files are placed on the website so that folks can listen and learn the various chants at home. This takes time and a great deal of coordination and cooperation in the village, but the payoff is a firm foundation. And by the way, we copyright nothing, so feel free to copy and adapt anything on our website for use in your parishes.

Step 9: Education and formation are critical. Predispose and prepare people for changes. This takes time.

Step 10: Create a Catholic ethos. This may seem simplistic or perhaps vague, but I can’t express the importance of creating an environment where the truth and beauty of our Faith is evident in every nook and cranny of parish life. I began this article by describing the simple exterior of a small village church, but I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the nobility one encounters upon entering. Everywhere one can see signs of great devotion to Our Lord, Jesus Christ, and to his mother, Our Lady of the Mountains. Worshippers here are surrounded by saints and angels represented by works of art in paint, glass, wood, and stone. In the chancel where the choir sings are newly commissioned icons of St. Gregory, St. Ambrose, St. Cecelia, and St. Hildegard — their watchful gaze will bless various ensembles who have taken these saints as their patrons. In the not-too-distant future, magnificent stained glass windows honoring King David, the psalmist, and King Josiah, the great reformer, will look kindly onto the musicians who sing and play beneath their stoic visages.

The Liturgical rites are carried out with great dignity and solemnity, and those that have the responsibility of singing the rites are aware that their work is holy insofar as it is connected intimately to the liturgy. Sacred Music does not exist in a vacuum. It has no life of its own apart from the lex orandi and lex credendi of Holy Mother Church.

And finally: THERE WILL BE BLOOD. This is not a step towards creating a sacred music program in your parish. This is a reality. Not everyone will want to be part of the village. In fact, there will be those who would rather see the village burn than go along with any changes that aren’t in conformity with their way of doing things. There will be angry emails and copies of On Eagles’ Wings anonymously left under your office door. There will be outright rebellion by some, and when sensing that they aren’t going to get their way, there will be those who will leave the parish. You will explain over and over that Latin was not banned by Vatican II, and that learning a Latin Mass setting isn’t as bad as all that.

There will be letters written to the Chancery with any number of grievances spelled out in vivid detail: The chant! The incense! The Latin! The horror! But you will find, as we did, that the Diocese will back you up. (Thank you, Archdiocese of Atlanta!) It could get ugly, so begin praying for your parishioners and don’t stop! Slowly, slowly, the naysayers will either be gone or be quiet, and you will find your parish filling up with people in search of something that is missing in that parish in the big city or the town next door. And there will be peace…mostly.

In closing I would add that when we are obedient to God in the moral and spiritual life, things can become clearer. Our world may remain confused, but at the same time, we are less confused about right and wrong, and understand why things are the way they are. This does not mean that we are always perfect, but at least we can recognize our own mistakes. The same may be said of the liturgy. When we endeavor to live out the liturgical vision of the Church, we learn things. We learn that one doesn’t need banks of speakers and bongo drums to worship like Catholics. Neither must we have a choir full of Julliard graduates who may or may not believe in God. Bigger is not always better. Trust us when we say that authentic Catholic worship (as it is envisioned by the official liturgical documents of the Church) really is ideal for any sized choir or congregation, and when you get people singing antiphons and hearing and singing more and more sacred scripture throughout the Mass, it is a good thing! By living out the Church’s vision of the liturgy, our vision becomes clearer.

Simply put, we are not entertainers. Instead, we are called to fulfill a time-honored role within the liturgical life of the Church, by intoning and chanting specific texts given to us by the saints of old. That is the vocation of the chorister: to allow the Spirit to teach us to pray, so that the Body of Christ can offer up fitting and worthy praise to the Father. We’re not making this up. It really is that clear. And we’re trying to be obedient to that vision. Thus, we believe our choirs can grow in holiness, and likewise, others around us. And if what we have learned here in our little parish can help others, then praise God.

↧

EF Candlemas Celebration in Palo Alto, California

January 31, 2017, 2:23 pm

≫ Next: Second Issue of “ALTARE DEI” Now Available

≪ Previous: “There Will Be Blood” - Lessons on Introducing Good Music Into a Parish

On Candlemas, February 2, at 8:00 p.m., a sung traditional Latin Mass will be celebrated at St. Thomas Aquinas Church. located at 75 Waverly Street in Palo Alto, California. Every Sunday, a sung Latin Mass is celebrated at the church, but this Mass on the feast of Candlemas will be the first Extraordinary Form Mass celebrated there since the Mass of Pope Paul VI was introduced in 1969. The St. Ann Choir, under the direction of Prof. William Mahrt of the Department of Music at Stanford University, will sing the Mass for Three Voices by William Byrd and Gregorian chants proper to the feast day. The celebrant will be Fr. Francisco Nahoe, a friar of the Conventual Franciscan Order.

↧

Second Issue of “ALTARE DEI” Now Available

February 1, 2017, 6:02 am

≫ Next: EF Mass in Jersey City for the Feast of St Blaise

≪ Previous: EF Candlemas Celebration in Palo Alto, California

NLM readers will remember the launch of the new magazine Altare Dei under the editorship of Aurelio Porfiri. The first issue came out at the end of October. I am happy to announce the appearance of the second issue, featuring an article by somebody or other on the organ postlude, but more importantly, a lot of fine articles and music by talented writers, including Dr. Fagerberg, Dr. Shaw, Fr. Kocik, Fr. Friel, Msgr. Miserachs, and Maestro Porfiri himself. I highly recommend it to your attention, and the price of 6 Euros is incredibly reasonable for 7 pieces of sheet music in the “Musical Insert,” a feature of each issue. Order online PDF here.

The Table of Contents follows.

ALTARE DEI N. 2 – JANUARY 2017
€6.00

EDITORIAL
Aurelio Porfiri

TOP STORY
In defense of the Organ Postlude
Peter A. Kwasniewski

LITURGICAL THEOLOGY
What is the Mystery of the Liturgy
David W. Fagerberg

LITURGY
Toward Holier Communions: A simple suggestion
Thomas M. Kocik

On Celebration Ad Orientem
Joseph Shaw

WITNESSES
Jean Nicolas Grou

MUSICAL INSERT
AVE MARIA (Solo, SATB and Organ) Mauro Visconti
MAGNIFICAT (SATB and Organ) Colin Mawby
EASTER ALLELUIA (SATB) Aurelio Porfiri
QUEM TERRA, PONTUS, SIDERA (2 Equal voices and Organ) Valentino Miserachs
INTERLUDE (Organ) Aurelio Porfiri
SALVASTI NOS, DOMINE (2 Equal voices and Organ)Aurelio Porfiri
EXULTATE IUSTI (Acclamation for the Rosary, SATB and Organ) Alberico Vitalini

CATECHISM
On the Mass, Part 2
Enrico Zoffoli

PROFILES
Priestly dignity according to Blessed Antonio Rosmini
Enrico Finotti

SACRED MUSIC
The earliest Catholic Choir school
David M. Friel

Sacred Music from St. Pius X to our days
Valentino Miserachs
Gregorian Chant for the First Sunday of Lent: The Sunday of Temptation
Fulvio Rampi

CATHOLIC CULTURE
A Church on her knees (and not in a good sense)…
Aurelio Porfiri

“Only a blind man can deny that there’s now in the Church great confusion…”
Interview with Cardinal Carlo Caffarra (From Il Foglio)

EVENTS
“Miracle” in Trieste: Bach’s celebrated monumental B minor Mass after at least 50 years
Alberto Carosa

Order here.

↧

EF Mass in Jersey City for the Feast of St Blaise

February 1, 2017, 11:50 am

≫ Next: Sung EF Mass for Candlemas in Portland, Oregon

≪ Previous: Second Issue of “ALTARE DEI” Now Available

The church of St Anthony of Padua in Jersey City, New Jersey, will hold a Mass in honor of St Blaise on his feast day, Friday, February 3rd, at 5:30 pm. The church is located at 457 Monmouth St.

↧

Sung EF Mass for Candlemas in Portland, Oregon

February 1, 2017, 1:23 pm

≫ Next: The Feast of St Ignatius of Antioch

≪ Previous: EF Mass in Jersey City for the Feast of St Blaise

The church of St Stephen in Portland, Oregon, will have a Sung Mass in the Extraordinary Form tomorrow at 7pm for the feast of Candlemas, with Gregorian chant and the music of Palestrina and Arcadelt. The church is located at 1112 SE 41st Avenue.

↧

The Feast of St Ignatius of Antioch

February 1, 2017, 2:48 pm

≫ Next: If There Is An Antichrist, Is There An Antimary?

≪ Previous: Sung EF Mass for Candlemas in Portland, Oregon

Although St Ignatius of Antioch is the Apostolic Father of whose writings we have the most, we know very little about him, less by far than we know about his contemporary St Polycarp. He is traditionally said to have been the child whom the Lord Himself “set in their midst and embraced” when He said “Whosoever shall receive one such child as this in my name, receiveth me.” (Mark 9, 35-36) This story certainly arose from his second name, which he gives at the beginning of each of his letters, misread as “Theóphoros – borne by God”, instead of “Theophóros – bearing God.” According to Eusebius, he was the second bishop of Antioch, after St Peter the Apostle and Evodius, and St John Chrysostom, who was a priest of Antioch before his election to the see of Constantinople, and thus conversant with the traditions of the city, says that Ignatius was ordained by the Apostle himself.

We do not have an authentic eyewitness account of his martyrdom. The seven letters of his which survive were written while he was on his way to Rome to be martyred, but the purported accounts of his trial before the Emperor Trajan, and of his condemnation and death, have long been recognized as later works and unreliable. St Jerome, who was very familiar with both Rome and Antioch, says that he was thrown to the wild beasts, a standard punishment for Christians who were not Roman citizens; hence the classic representation of St Ignatius between two lions. The tradition that this happened in the Roman Colosseum, while perfectly plausible, is attested by no direct evidence, and may have arisen from the fact some relics of him have long been kept in the nearby basilica of St Clement.

The Martyrdom of St Ignatius of Antioch, as depicted in the Menologion of Basil II (ca 1000 A.D.)

The revised version of Butler’s Lives of the Saints rightly notes that “(t)he obscurity which surrounds almost all the details of this great martyr’s career is in marked contrast to the certainty with which scholarship now affirms the genuineness of the seven letters…” “Now” refers to the controversy, which raged for centuries, over the authenticity of the letters, the oldest recension of which contains a number of obvious interpolations, probably made by Apollinarian heretics at the beginning of the fifth century, and six other completely spurious letters. In the past, some scholars took this as a pretext to reject the entire Ignatian corpus as spurious; one 17th century Calvinist scholar even went so far as to join the question of their authenticity with that of the most famous pious forgery in the history of the theology, the writings attributed to Denys the Areopagite. When Donald Attwater published the revised Butler’s Lives in 1954, he could rightly say that “the dispute is now practically settled”, with the recognition as authentic of the letters to the Ephesians, Magnesians, Trallians, Romans, Philadelphians, Smyrnaeans, and St Polycarp, according to the list given by both Eusebius of Caesarea and St Jerome.

Part of the motive for the controversy was certainly the extreme embarrassment which the writings of St Ignatius caused to the early Protestants. I have known more than one Protestant who, on setting out to learn what, if anything, Christians might have written between the Apocalypse and the 95 Theses, found St Ignatius to be particularly unsettling. He was the first to use the term “Catholic” to describe the Church established by Christ throughout the world, and bound together by a real and visible unity. Calvin and his followers who rejected the episcopate were driven also to reject Ignatius, who has very Catholic ideas about the importance of the bishop, as also about the primacy of the Church of Rome, and above all about the Eucharist, which heretics “confess not …to be the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ,” (Smyrnaeans 7) but which Ignatius calls “the medicine of immortality, the antidote to death.” (Ephes. 20)

The date of his death is also unknown, and the subject of much confusion. His traditional feast day in the Roman Rite is February 1st, a date also given in some early Martyrologies, but December 20th in the Byzantine; the Syrian church keeps it on October 17th, the day to which his feast was moved in the post-Conciliar reform of the Roman Calendar. Chrysostom and Jerome both attest that his relics were at Antioch in the later 4th century, the former stating in a sermon on his feast day that Rome had received his blood, while Antioch now cherished his relics, the latter that they were kept “in the cemetery outside the Daphne gate at Antioch.” This would mean they were first brought there from Rome, and then back again, but the reasons for these two translations, their dates, and their connection with the date of his feast in various traditions are also far from clear. Adding to the confusion is the odd coincidence that the Byzantine liturgy celebrates the translation of his relics on January 29th, three days before his Roman feast, while the Roman Martyrology notes the translation on December 17th, three days before his Byzantine feast.

Notwithstanding the fact that he is named in Canon of the Roman Mass, his feast is not mentioned in any of the early sacramentaries or lectionaries, and was only established at Rome in the 12th century. The Blessed Schuster says that this is obviously because his tomb was not at Rome, but neither are those of many other Saints named in the Canon, such as Cyprian, Cosmas and Damian, Lucy and Agatha. February 1st is exactly two weeks after the feast of St Peter’s Chair at Rome on January 18th, and three before the Chair at Antioch on February 22nd, which, considering that Ignatius was a successor of St Peter as bishop of Antioch, and martyred at Rome, makes for a tantalizing coincidence. However, this can be no more than coincidence, since the keeping of both feasts of St Peter’s Chair is an innovation of the 16th century.

↧

If There Is An Antichrist, Is There An Antimary?

February 2, 2017, 8:01 am

≫ Next: The Presentation of Christ and Purification of the Virgin Mary 2017

≪ Previous: The Feast of St Ignatius of Antioch

This is the title of an article by Dr Carrie Gress which appears in the National Catholic Register, and caught my eye. I met Dr Gress last year at the Acton University where she gave a talk on faith and culture and the current discussion about the “Benedict Option.” (She and I are both speaking there again this coming June). In her talk last summer, she discussed both Alistair McIntyre’s use of the phrase in the closing paragraphs of his book After Virtue, and how it has caught on recently after an article by the journalist Rod Dreyer picked up on the theme.

At the end of her talk, Dr Gress suggested that an alternative to the Benedict Option which she referred to as the Marian Option, a focus on devotion to the Mother of God might lead us into that cultural renewal that is sought by so many. I immediately thought of the parallels with Cardinal Burke’s recent promotion of the re-establishment of men’s Holy Leagues, which played such an important part in the call to arms in defense of Christianity in the 16th century, and are intended today to promote a Marian chivalry as part of engagement with modern, secular culture. The crystallization of this idea will be realized in her book The Marian Option: God’s Solution to a Civilization in Crisis, which will be published by Tan Books in May.
As an aspect of the focus on Mary, Gress’ idea of the Antimary as articulated in this recent article resonates with me after watching and seeing accounts of the recent women’s march in Washington D.C., to which she also refers in her article.
My personal reaction to this is that devotion to Mary draws us to Christ, and so to the personal transformation that is necessary in each of us if we are to become agents of change in the culture. It brings to mind Bl. Pope Paul VI’s Marialis Cultis: Apostolic Exhortation for the Right Ordering and Development of Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary from 1974. In it, the Pope describes a hierarchy of devotions to Our Lady in which all point to an approach to Jesus through Mary, especially through the feasts in the liturgical calendar. When our devotion to Mary leads us to worship of the Father, through her Son in the Spirit then our Christian life is well ordered.

Furthermore, as someone who is interested in the place of sacred art in the liturgy, I would love to see a more widespread practice of engagement with art during the liturgical celebration, in a way that seems more common in the Eastern Church. I am always struck in Byzantine liturgies how all turn and face the icon of the Mother of God whenever her name is invoked. If this were to become more widespread, it would probably improve both our prayer and our art!

Carrie Gress writes:

While researching my latest book, The Marian Option: God’s Solution to a Civilization in Crisis (Tan Books, May 2017), I was struck by a new theological concept. I kept running across the notion that Mary is the New Eve—an idea that goes back to the early Church Fathers. Mary as the New Eve is the female complement to Christ, the New Adam. In Scripture, St. John speaks of an antichrist as a man, but also as a movement that is present throughout history (1 John 4:3, 2 John 1:7). This got me thinking: if there is an antichrist, perhaps there is a female complement, an antimary?

What, then, would an antimary movement look like, exactly? Well, these women would not value children. They would be bawdy, vulgar, and angry. They would rage against the idea of anything resembling humble obedience or self-sacrifice for others. They would be petulant, shallow, catty, and overly sensuous. They would also be self-absorbed, manipulative, gossipy, anxious, and ambitious. In short, it would be everything that Mary is not.

Read more here....

So many sacred images of Mary depict her leading us to her Son. Perhaps the image in which the connection is most profound is the Mother of God of the Sign, in which to see her is to see the image of the Son. The image below is of a relief carving by Jonathan Pageau.

Dr Carrie Gress is on the faculty of www.Pontifex.University. Her online introductory philosophy course, a History of the Transcendentals will be offered early in the summer.

↧

The Presentation of Christ and Purification of the Virgin Mary 2017

February 2, 2017, 2:45 pm

≫ Next: The Treasury of Monza Cathedral

≪ Previous: If There Is An Antichrist, Is There An Antimary?

Taking Jesus into his arms, Simeon cried out and said: * Truly Thou art a light to enlighten the gentiles, and to the glory of thy people Israel. V. When His parents were bringing in the Child Jesus, then he received Him up in his arms, and blessed God, and said: Truly Thou art a light to enlighten the gentiles, and to the glory of thy people Israel. (The seventh responsory of Matins on the feast of the Purification.)

The Presentation of Christ in the Temple, from the Brussels Hours (also known as the Très-Belles Heures de Jehan de France, Duc de Berry), by Jacquemart de Hesdin and workshop, ca. 1400.

R. Suscipiens Jesum in ulnas suas Simeon, exclamavit, et dixit: * Tu es vere lumen ad illuminationem Gentium, et gloriam plebis tuae Israel. V. Cum inducerent puerum Jesum parentes ejus, et ipse accepit eum in ulnas suas, et benedixit Deum, et dixit: Tu es vere...

↧

The Treasury of Monza Cathedral

February 3, 2017, 6:37 am

≫ Next: Fostering Young Vocations (Part 5)

≪ Previous: The Presentation of Christ and Purification of the Virgin Mary 2017

Closing out our series of Nicola’s photographs from the cathedral of Monza, here are some of the beautiful items kept in the treasury. (See part 1, the Chapel of St Theodelinda; part 2, the Cathedral of St John the Baptist.)

The original covers of a Gospel book given to St Theodelinda, Queen of the Lombards, by Pope St Gregory the Great at the very beginning of the 7th century.

The Sapphire Cup, said to have been used by Theodelinda at her 2nd marriage to Agilulf, Duke of Turin, who thus became the King of the Lombards, subsequently donated by her to the cathedral. The sapphire itself was carved as a cup in the first century, and is the oldest object preserved in the treasury; the base and stem are of the fifteenth century.

A reliquary containing a tooth of John the Baptist, patron Saint of the city and cathedral, made in the 9th century and donated by King Berengarius.

The Cross of Agilulf, a work of the early 7th century.

The crown of St Theodelinda

The Cross of Adaloald, Theodelinda’s son, also a gift of St Gregory

The Cross of Berengarius, a work of the 9th century, formerly used in the coronation rituals of the Kings of Italy. The gem hanging from the bottom is an amythest with an image of the goddess Diana, made in the 3rd century.

A letter of St Charles Borromeo to the Chapter of Monza Cathedral. Monza is within the archdiocese of Milan, but in the Middle Ages had followed a use of the Roman Rite known as the “rito patriarchino,” mostly differing in its chant. St Charles had wished them to pass over the Ambrosian Rite after Trent, a proposal which met with strong resistance; in this letter, he therefore grants them permission to use the Roman Rite, but not to continue the “rito patriarchino.” Sigh...

A chalice donated by Gian Galeazzo Visconti, the first Duke of Milan.

A Lombard sculpture of the 5th or 6th century of a mother hen with seven chicks, said to have been found in St Theodelinda’s tomb.

↧

Fostering Young Vocations (Part 5)

February 3, 2017, 1:03 pm

≫ Next: The Paris Psalter

≪ Previous: The Treasury of Monza Cathedral

Minor seminarians in Italy, mid 1920s.

A friend of mine who was studying for the priesthood in Italy about 15 years ago told me the following story. One of the men in his seminary had previously been in the minor seminary of a southern Italian diocese, where they had the new Mass, but mostly in Latin, much of it in chant when they sang, celebrated ad orientem, sung Vespers, plus a healthy round of traditional devotions, (daily Rosary for the whole community, frequent Eucharistic Adoration, etc.) The seminarians wore the cassock, just like the young fellows we see here in the photo, plus the surplice and biretta when in chapel. There were fifty of them. Not long after he had come to Rome for his philosophy and theology, a new rector decided it was time for “renewal.” Mass was now celebrated entirely in Italian, the music reduced to the standard four-hymn sandwich. A new altar was installed, facing the pews. Vespers, Rosary, Adoration etc. were all cancelled or reduced to the bare minimum, and of course, the wearing of the cassock, surplice and biretta were all forbidden. Within a few years, the seminarians were down to six.

↧

The Paris Psalter

February 4, 2017, 9:38 am

≫ Next: EF Installation of a Pastor in Detroit

≪ Previous: Fostering Young Vocations (Part 5)

Since I used a rather plain page of the Paris Psalter to illustrate an article last week, I thought it would be a good idea to take a look at the images which have made it one of the most famous illuminated manuscripts of all time. It was produced at Constantinople in the mid-10th century, the heart of the era which Byzantine scholars often call the “Macedonian Renaissance,” under the emperors of the Macedonian dynasty (867-1055). The first of these, Basil I, came to power just twenty years after the final defeat in 847 of the Iconoclast heresy, the wake of which saw a strong reaction in favor of copying, and thus preserving, works of fthe pre-iconoclast Greco-Roman tradition. This classicizing tendency is particularly notable in the 10th century, when the revival of both the visual and literary arts was flourishing in Constantinople.

Many of the details in these images, especially the buildings in the backgrounds, but also the manner of representing the clothes, are strongly reminiscent of the wall-paintings in Pompei. The renewed interest in ancient classical models is evident in the very first image, where King David looks very much like ancient representations of Orpheus as he plays the harp, surrounded, like Orpheus, by wild animals. In the upper left hand corner we see the city of Bethlehem; the woman against whom David leans is the personification of Melody, another very Greco-Roman artistic idea. The red figure in the lower right hand corner is the “mountain of Bethlehem.”

The second image, unfortunately rather damaged, shows David defending his flock from a lion, with a dead bear he has already killed at the bottom, as stated in 1 Kings 17. 34, assisted by the personification of Strength.

The third shows David being anointing by Samuel, surrounded by his father and brothers, with the personification of Meekness above him. (1 Kings 16)

In the upper register of the fourth image, David, accompanied by the personification of Force, fights Goliath, as the personification of Boastfulness flees; in the lower register, the Israelite and Philistine armies face off as David decapitates Goliath. (1 Kings 17)

The fifth image is a good example of a late Roman artistic convention by which halos are used to indicate the most important figure, in this case King Saul, without reference to goodness or holiness. The caption in the upper left gives the words of the daughters of Israel, (one of whom dances in the foreground in celebration,) which provoke Saul’s jealousy of David, “Saul hath slain a thousand, and David ten thousand.” (1 Kings 18, 7)

The sixth shows the coronation of David by an unlabeled female figure, whose halo indicates that she is another personification.

The last of this opening series, all of which are placed in the manuscript before the Psalter itself begins, shows King David as an older man, with Wisdom to the left, Prophecy to the right, and the dove of the Holy Spirit above his head. On the book in his hands is the beginning of Psalm 71, long read as a prophecy of the coming of the Messiah because of the words “And he shall rule from sea to sea, and from the river unto the ends of the earth”; it is traditionally sung on both Christmas and Epiphany.

The next image occurs 130 folios later, before Psalm 50, the penitential psalm par excellence, representing the episode which, according to the title of that Psalm, led to its composition, “when the Prophet Nathan came to him after he had gone in to Bathsheba.” (2 Kings 11-12) David is represented with a beard, older than he was in the earlier miniatures, again in accordance with Roman conventions. In the upper right, the hands of the personification of Repentance indicate contemplation, as in many Roman statues, as David prostrates himself below her.

After 283 more folios, there begins a series of images which illustrate some of the Old Testament canticles of Byzantine Lauds. (In practice, these are almost never sung today, being replaced by a series of poetic compositions called a Canon.) The first of these is the Canticle of Moses in Exodus, chapter 15, 1-19, at the crossing of the Red Sea. The upper register shows the personifications of Night and of the Desert, out of which Moses leads the Israelites as he strikes the water with his rod, led by the column of fire. In the lower register, the nude personification of the Deep (here a male, since the Greek word ‘Bythos’ is masculine), looking very much like a classical statue, drags Pharaoh down into the water, as the personification of the Red Sea looks on from the lower right-hand corner.

The second Ode, the canticle of Moses in Deuteronomy 32, 1-43, is only sung in Lent (and again, in modern practice routinely omitted.) Since the canticle is mostly about the failure of the children of Israel to keep the Law, the accompanying image is of the revelation of the Law to Moses on Mount Sinai (Exodus 19 et seqq.), personified in the lower left as a red figure, like the “mountain of Bethlehem” in the first image.

The canticle of Anna (1 Kings 2, 1-10), which is sometimes called the Magnificat of the Old Testament, is preceded by this image which might easily be mistaken for one of the Virgin Mary.

The canticle of Jonah (chapter 2, 3-10) is preceded by an image which covers each of the four chapters of his book: Jonah being thrown out of the boat (chapter 1); Jonah spat out of the whale (chapter 2), here shown as a sea-monster; Jonah preaching to the Ninivites (chapter 3) and speaking with God (chapter 4.) This canticle is not used in the Roman Rite, but is sung at Sunday Matins from Easter to mid-October in the Ambrosian Rite, which also reads the entire book at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper; in the Byzantine Rite, the whole book is read at the Easter vigil.

In this image of the Prophet Isaiah, the personifications of Night (Nyx) and Morning (Orthros, also Greek word for Lauds) are inspired by the first words of the canticle taken from chapter 26 of his book, verses 9-20. “ek nyktos orthrizei - out of the night my souls riseth early to seek thee.”

The last image is placed before the canticle of King Ezechiah in Isaiah 38, 10-20, which is sung in the Roman Rite on Tuesday Lauds and in the Office of the Dead. It is included in many early Byzantine Psalters, even though it is not used liturgically. The figure at the upper right is the personification of Prayer.

↧

EF Installation of a Pastor in Detroit

February 4, 2017, 5:41 pm

≫ Next: The Liturgical Rollercoaster: A Recent Proposal for 14 “Improvements” to the TLM

≪ Previous: The Paris Psalter

This Sunday, February 5, at 11:00 am, the Archbishop of Detroit will install the new Pastor of St. Joseph Oratory, located at 1828 Jay Street in Detroit. The installation in the Extraordinary Form reveals all the essential duties of a pastor: to offer Mass and distribute Holy Communion; to bring people to the church, baptize, and absolve them; and to preach the Gospel. During the ceremony, the new pastor makes a profession of faith and oath of fidelity. The archbishop imposes the pastoral stole on him, and leads him to ring the bells, to open and close the Tabernacle, the front door of the church, and the baptismal font, to enter the confessional, and to ascend the high pulpit. The ceremony also includes prayers from the feast of the church’s patron, in this case, St. Joseph, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

↧

The Liturgical Rollercoaster: A Recent Proposal for 14 “Improvements” to the TLM

February 6, 2017, 5:55 am

≫ Next: Can We Afford New Art? Yes! Beauty and Superabundance in a Small Appalachian Parish

≪ Previous: EF Installation of a Pastor in Detroit

Just when one thinks that one has stepped off the heaving, rickety train or storm-tossed boat of liturgical change, someone of an impeccably reformist mentality will come along and propose unleashing Sacrosanctum Concilium on the usus antiquior, or returning to 1965, or cobbling together a hybrid OF/EF, or some other such monstrosity. So many of these issues have been thought through, messed with, fought over, and re-thought, that one would think we had safely entered a period of deep skepticism about further tinkering with elements that are almost always better than we think they are. As one gets to be on intimate terms with the TLM, one grows into its structure, prayers, ceremonies, and customs, and finds them to be eminently fitting.

At The Catholic World Report on January 31, Fr. Peter Stravinskas published “How the Ordinary Form of the Mass Can Enrich the Extraordinary Form.” As I went through his 14 suggestions, I couldn’t help but notice that almost all of them have been the subject of articles on NLM, critiquing the very things he’s advocating. Because of the complexity of the issues, and because there is no need to rewrite what has already been written if it will do the job, the present article will mostly take the form of links to articles that argue against Fr. Stravinskas’ ideas. A starting point would be this one: “Could the Traditional Latin Mass Be Improved—And Should It Even Be Attempted?”

Before I go into the 14 items, I will say that I appreciate Fr. Stravinskas’ honesty in admitting that the Novus Ordo has almost nothing to do with what the Council Fathers described in Sacrosanctum Concilium, even though we also know that Bugnini and Co. created enough loopholes in the document to drive a fleet of lorries through it. Without further ado:

1. Adoption of the revised lectionary

It is unclear why an “expanded” lectionary must mean a multi-year lectionary, let alone the revised lectionary we have. Ferial readings already existed in the Western rites and could be recovered, without substantial modification to the existing cursus. As I suggested in Resurgent in the Midst of Crisis, the readings for Saints’ days could have been enriched without difficulty (e.g., St. Anthony of Egypt could fittingly have had the lesson and the Gospel.)

Beyond this, however, the adoption of the revised multi-year lectionary that has almost nothing in common with historical Roman precedent would be nothing short of a disaster. For arguments against its content and structure, see “A Tale of Two Lectionaries: Qualitative vs. Quantitive Analysis” and the further references given there.

2. Incorporation of additional Mass formularies

The addition of “historic euchological material” to the missal was done in an utterly inorganic manner, as committees of archaeologizing experts met to discuss their favorite textual digs, and all the bones and teeth, jewels and plates they recovered -- many, no doubt, in excellent shape, but not something to be grafted on tout court by executive fiat. In this “enrichment” there was also a huge amount of excision and progressive rewriting, in other words, a distortion of the lex orandi. This has been thoroughly documented by Lauren Pristas. I talk about the inherent problem of the scissors-and-paste method of “making liturgy,” regardless of how good the material is, in my lectures “The Spirit of the Liturgy in the Words and Actions of Our Lady” and “Reverence Is Not Enough: On the Importance of Tradition.” (Editor’s note: see also this article on the process of tearing up ancient texts and stitching the bits back together to create new ones, “A Tradition Both ‘Venerable’ and ‘Defective’”, and this article which gives two examples, “The New Rite Prefaces for Advent.”

3. Expand possibilities for solemnity

While I agree with Fr. Stravinskas that Sung Mass should be the norm or at least a lot more common, especially on Sundays and Holy Days (see “The Problem of the Dominant Low Mass and the Rare High Mass”), Fr. Kocik raised the question about the potential pitfalls of the new mix-and-match model of progressive solemnity here, Ben Yanke added a dose of realism here, and Fr. David Friel a number of excellent points here.

4. Elimination of duplicate recitations

This has been done in certain monastic families, and for them it seems to have worked well. However, it is far from clear that there is any demand or desire for this among the secular clergy or the faithful. For an argument against the idea: “Is It Fitting for the Priest to Recite All the Texts of the Mass?”

5. Restoration of Offertory Procession and Prayer of the Faithful

The “offertory procession” as it was fashioned by the Consilium bears little resemblance to any historical precedent in the West; it is a fanciful creation loosely based on the custom of people handing in bread and wine before the service began. (See Paul Bradshaw’s article “Gregory Dix and the Offertory Procession.”) Its current form seems to be another method for giving jobs to lay people, like a WPA for the unemployed in the Depression.

As for the Prayer of the Faithful (or the General Intercessions), sed contra: “The Distracting Prayer of the Faithful,” to which Fr. Friel added a further point here. Yes, they could be elevated, but why? Almost all of the things we usually pray for are already prayed for in the Roman Canon and in various other prayers of the Mass.

6. Re-order the dismissal rite

If we understand the Mass as the offering of the Holy Sacrifice, then Ite missa est is most appropriately said when the liturgical offering is complete, namely, after the Postcommunion. The blessing of the people is an afterthought -- and a most welcome one, as is the Last Gospel. After the people respond Deo gratias, the priest turns around to pray a last private prayer, the Placeat tibi, which allows the congregation time to kneel in preparation for the blessing of the priest. (Side-note: I’ve grown to appreciate kneeling for that final blessing, which has habituated me to value a priest's blessing as something special, in the way that the traditional rite of blessing holy water teaches one to appreciate this sacramental more than a hasty pseudo-blessing from the Book of Blessings.) The fact that certain things are “add-ons” doesn’t mean they should be excised, as even Father admits.

7. Move the “fractio” from the Libera nos to the Agnus Dei

Here once again, the reformers went far beyond the mandate of the Council in disturbing a very ancient custom for no discernible good reason. The Agnus Dei is a later addition to the Order of Mass, (and certainly a very worthy one,) made by Pope St Sergius I at the end of the 7th century; the Fraction, on the other hand, is as ancient and universal as the Mass itself. The separate consecration of the bread and wine, also an ancient and universal feature of all historical Christian rites, represents the shedding of Christ’s Blood, which is to say, the separation of His Blood from His Body, and hence His Death. The Fraction ritual, at which they are reunited, represents the Resurrection.

In accordance with the Western Church’s ancient tradition, the priest has thus far only addressed God the Father in prayer from the Preface until end of the Libera nos. (A tiny handful of Secrets are addressed to the Son, all but one of them quite late additions; at most Masses, he has spoken to the Father since the beginning of the Offertory, apart from the prayer Suscipe Sancta Trinitas.) Only after the Fraction, the representation of the Resurrection, does he say and the choir sing the Agnus Dei, addressing the Son, the Lamb of God whom St John sees in the heavenly court, acclaimed by the Angels and Saints, “The Lamb that was slain is worthy to receive power, and divinity, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and benediction.” And only once this has been accomplished does the celebrate invite the faithful into the Peace of the Risen Christ, after which the rite of the Peace begins. (The addition of “always” to the celebrant’s address to the people, “May the peace of the Lord always be with you,” which occurs only here, emphasizes this vision of Christ in Eternity.)

The modern displacement of the Fraction to the Agnus Dei has turned one of the most crucial moments of the Mass into an afterthought, and something which is routinely not even noticed by the congregation, as they are busily shaking each other’s hands.

8. Make clear that the homily is a true part of the Sacred Liturgy

Rather: let us make it clear that the homily is not a part of the liturgy. Please! One can still restrict it to those who have been ordained for the office of preaching, without considering it to have the status of part of the Church’s public worship that is done by Christ the Head in union with His members. See point #3 in this article.

9. Maintain the integrity of the Sanctus

On the contrary, one of the most beautiful touches in the old rite is when the choir, singing a polyphonic Sanctus, can stop after the first Hosanna, as if crying out to welcome the coming King, kneel in silence, adore the Blessed Sacrament elevated, then resume with the absolutely fitting words: “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord,” with a final resounding Hosanna to the Son of David, exalted on high in His glorified flesh and blood, now present upon the holy altar. (Editor’s note: and we can pretty much assume that the entire corpus of works like this will disappear, since no one will want to wait six minutes to start the Canon.)

10. Adopt the rubrics of the OF for the Communion Rite

In the historical Western rites, the celebrant is always the one who chants the Lord’s Prayer, whether at the Divine Office or at Mass, in his capacity as minister of the High Priest and representative of the people. That this is an ancient custom may be seen from the shape of the plainchant, where the tone dips down at “Et ne nos inducas in tentationem” (in line with the distinctively priestly tone used elsewhere with “Per omnia saecula saeculorum”), whereupon the people respond, “Sed libera nos a malo.” It is one of the bones of the rite, so to speak.

As for saying the remainder of the prayers aloud, this only adds verbosity. Everyone knows what the priest is praying for and we can all join ourselves to the intense silence. That short silence after the Lord’s Prayer is much appreciated by the congregation, as we transition from the worship of the Lamb (Roman Canon) to the partaking of the Lamb in Holy Communion.

11. Face the people when addressing the people; face God when addressing God

I defend (in passing) the custom of reading the readings versus Deum in this article: “In Defense of Preserving Readings in Latin.”

12. Unite the calendars of the OF and EF

Fr. Stravinskas thinks that Christ the King should be the last Sunday of the liturgy year. Traditional Catholics beg to differ. I would certainly agree that some of the more recent saints should be added to the 1962 calendar, but the OF calendar as a whole is a disaster (loss of Pentecost octave, loss of correct days for Epiphany and Ascension, loss of Epiphanytide, loss of Septuagesimatide, and on and on) that it needs to be scrapped, with the EF calendar taken as the norm and regional or recent saints carefully added to it. (Editor’s note: the drastic mutilation of the temporal cycle removed almost all of its characteristically Roman features from the Roman Rite, as I explained in this article, “The Octave of Pentecost: A Proposal for Mutual Enrichment”. This is one of the most notable examples of how the reformers went far beyond the mandate of Vatican II.)

13. Modify the rubrics

Fr. Stravinskas repeats the call for removing “useless repetitions.” There are so many reasons not to reduce or remove repetitions, not the least of which is that they are not useless. See this comparison of the Rosary to the Mass. It is a curious part of our modern mentality that dictates we should cut out anything that’s not immediately and obviously useful. In that case, we should perform tonsillectomies and appendectomies on everyone. Rather, we need to expand our notion of what is useful by thinking of what is noble and fitting.

14. Rename the two principal parts of the Mass

Fr. Stravinskas argues against the ancient division of the Mass, never modified until the revolutionaries of the 1960s got greased up for action. For a refutation, see: Why “Mass of Catechumens” Makes Better Sense Than “Liturgy of the Word.”

In any case, it is odd when an author invokes Pius XII’s denunciation of “antiquarianism” for the retention of the term “Liturgy of the Catechumens” (even though this had never fallen out of usage, so it’s not an antiquarianist recovery), while simultaneously advocating just the kind of antiquarianism Pius XII did warn against by going on about the ancient venerableness of obsolete elements like the Offertory Procession or the Prayer of the Faithful.

* * *

Finally, for two articles that present the other side of the argument, namely, what the OF desperately needs to learn from the EF, see:

Imbuing the Ordinary Form with Extraordinary Form Spirituality

How the Traditional Latin Mass Fosters More Active Participation than the Ordinary Form

↧

Can We Afford New Art? Yes! Beauty and Superabundance in a Small Appalachian Parish

February 7, 2017, 5:57 am

≫ Next: A Breviary According to the Jesuit Use

≪ Previous: The Liturgical Rollercoaster: A Recent Proposal for 14 “Improvements” to the TLM

Artists often complain to me that the Church doesn’t commission enough art. In many ways I am somewhat cynical about this complaint; I tend to believe that it is the job of the artist to make the quality of his work good enough to attract people to it. If the work is beautiful enough, then people with money will want to part with it in exchange for art.

I was reminded of this recently when I received a series of before-and-after photos of Our Lady of the Mountains, Georgia. I first had contact with this church when the pastor, Fr Charles Byrd, commissioned two paintings from me, of St Gregory the Great and St Ambrose. This little church has commissioned dozens of paintings over an eight-year period. How has this happened? The website tells us that the congregation is just 500 families.

I asked Fr Charles to tell me how he did it. What follows is a summary of his explanation. What is interesting to me is that the pattern he describes seems to support the idea that if you aim for the highest, noblest and most beautiful in our churches, then people are affected by it and want more. And when people want it, they will make the sacrifices to have it.

First of all, as he described it to me, he had to start somewhere, and there was a benefactor who paid for the first two artworks that had an impact on parish life, a pair of stained glass windows. These, he says, helped build trust with the congregation, because they saw what an impact beautiful art could have on the parish. Gradually, they started to come forward with support. It got to the stage where everyone was contributing because the parish actually budgeted on a monthly basis a steady expenditure on art, vestments, light fittings and so on, gradually improving the look of the church without having single large scale benefactors.

He made sure that the images were relevant to the prayers and the liturgy of the parish, so that right from the start, the people were engaging with them in their worship and prayer. This not only made them appreciate the images more, but also contributed to their spiritual lives positively, so that they thirsted for more beauty around them. This is the sort of formation in beauty that is the most powerful. It is a form of holistic catechesis, taking place not in the classroom, but in the church.

Fr Charles told me that he “chose the saints purposefully and invoked their prayers for our parish. In time, benefactors came forward to help with vestments and icons and stained glass windows and an organ. But building trust and forming a Catholic consciousness or spirit took time. I have been here for eight years and initially there was resistance. Some of the people were first scandalized by the beauty of Catholic art and music, and saw it as extravagant. But in time they have come to expect it and appreciate it, and miss it when they are away. Tastes and expectations improve over time, but people learn to let themselves be Catholic after a while.”

He went on to say “At present we have three outstanding projects we are working on and that will be in place by summer. The first is a 12-foot tall hand-carved high cross in a Celtic style which will take a prominent place in the narthex. It will be an amazing masterpiece and it has been commissioned by our Knights of Columbus. It will also honor certain evangelist saints (missionary saints for the Celtic period) like Columba, Aidan, Finnian, and Dallan. Once it is installed there will be lesson plans for the children and we can talk about a whole age of forgotten saints … and we will invoke these various saints carved into the high cross in our work and efforts to evangelize here among the Scots-Irish who are largely unchurched Protestants - we invoke the prayers of the apostles of their ancestors to pull them in.

“There will be an icon of St. George, hand carved in Ukraine. A parishioner from Ukraine was eager to help and we have plans to have a great St. George Day celebration at the end of the year with our kids: lesson plans, holy cards and even an annual ‘slaying of the dragon.’ The icons become lesson plans: they teach, but they also invoke the Saints’ prayers for us.

“And third is an icon of St. Thomas the Apostle, that is being painted at present by an Indian priest. I made a pilgrimage to India in the Fall, and we are supporting in prayer the efforts of a new house of formation there for seminarians. The Christians there are suffering, so we’ll have two identical icons one here and one there. I offered the Mass over the tomb of St Thomas when I was in India, and this will be a very Indian icon.

I wrote a piece about beauty and superabundance some time ago, in which I argued that beauty in our churches actually benefits the poor more than if the money were spent directly on alleviating their problems. For not only is it there for the poor who go to the church to see it, but also, it affects all of those who attend and inspires them to give of themselves more fully in service of God and their fellow men. As a result, all are more inclined to give to the poor, and also to participate in the superabundant creation of wealth. This enables the poor to cease being poor because they become richer, and by gifts made to them by the wealthy. The story of Our Lady of the Mountains seems, in a small way, to corroborate this. It is an investment that pays off because those who attend are transformed by contact with it, when they engage with it in their worship and prayer. So we shouldn’t sell the art to give to the poor; rather we should commission beautiful art to inspire people to give to the poor; and even, perhaps, to inspire the poor to become wealth creators themselves.

Here are some pictures of the church in Jasper. First here is a picture of the church before the changes:

Then you can make out the addition of a wooden frame for a reredos:

And then the stained glass windows

Steadily dozens of paintings have been added over the eight year period, here is an Immaculate Conception statue, and then St Joseph, which can also be seen in the photo above.

The above icons are by myself (the two central images), and Marek Czarnecki.

↧

A Breviary According to the Jesuit Use

February 7, 2017, 5:36 pm

≫ Next: A New Regular TLM in the Diocese of Arlington, Virginia

≪ Previous: Can We Afford New Art? Yes! Beauty and Superabundance in a Small Appalachian Parish

From an 1801 edition of “The Monthly Magazine”, published in London, in a section headed “Extracts from the Port-folio of a Man of Letters.”

“A very brief rite of reciting the Breviary. First Pater and Ave are said, then
a. b. c. d. (etc.)
V. By this complete alphabet, alleluia.
R. The complete Breviary is composed, alleluia.
Let us pray. O God, who from the twenty-four letters didst will that all the Sacred Scripture and this Breviary be composed, join, loose, make, dispose and receive from this twenty-four letters Matins with Lauds, Prime, (Terce?), Sext, None, Vespers and Compline. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.”

There is no obvious clue as to whether the unnamed man of letters who had this in his “port-folio” (i.e. brief-case) or the editors of the Monthly Magazine, thought this was real, or understood it to be a joke. Note that they write “formerly belonging to the Jesuits,” who at this time were still suppressed, and to most Englishman, creatures of legend about which almost any story, however absurd, might easily be believed. (Picture nicked from friends on Facebook.)

↧

A New Regular TLM in the Diocese of Arlington, Virginia

February 8, 2017, 8:03 am

≫ Next: An Excellent Article on Revisiting Liturgiam Authenticam

≪ Previous: A Breviary According to the Jesuit Use

Our thanks to Mr Ryan Ellis for sending in this report of a newly established regular celebration of the Traditional Latin Mass.

St Rita’s Parish in Alexandria, Virginia, in the Diocese of Arlington, has long been known as the most liturgically traditional parish in the area. It features the Traditional Latin Mass on two weeknights Tuesday and Thursday, occasionally on Holy Days, solemn vespers on Friday night, and a regular 11 AM Sunday Novus Ordo high Mass. Ad orientem, male altar service, and kneeling to receive communion are the norm, not the exception.

But one thing the parish has lacked has been a Sunday “prime time” TLM. That changed on the Fifth Sunday after Epiphany. On the first Sunday of the month, St Rita’s celebrates a Missa Cantata at 9:40 a.m. If the Mass proves popular, it will become an every-Sunday item.

This is the only “prime time” Sunday TLM inside the Beltway in Northern Virginia. As such, it’s a big local milestone for the nation’s capital. Sunday’s Mass was well-attended, with over 150 people in the pews. This was a first one, so a drop-off should be expected, but this is a good start.

Fr. Gee, the pastor, was the celebrant; there were five altar boys, including a younger MC. The schola alternated between a men’s and women’s section. Given the tight time constraints (there are Masses scheduled at 8:30 a.m. and 11:00 a.m.), the Missa Cantata did not use incense, did not have an Asperges, and did not repeat the readings in English before the homily. The latter feature, especially, was not missed (at least by me).

Father chose to stay at the altar and wait for the choir to finish the Gloria (as opposed to retiring to a sedilia; this was likely done for time reasons, but I thought it was a good choice as it eliminated much of the usual discontinuity between choir and sanctuary that one finds at Missa Cantatas. The vicar helped out with communion, and the assembly wasn’t shy about using the altar rail, something I might have expected at a first Mass. The congregation participated in most of the ordinary parts pertaining to them, and in the server responses. This is also typical at the weeknight TLMs at St. Rita’s. All in all, a wonderful first start; I’ll be attending the first Sunday of every month with my family, and hopefully, in time, weekly.

↧

An Excellent Article on Revisiting Liturgiam Authenticam

February 8, 2017, 11:40 am

≫ Next: Catholic Artists Society Talk, NYC, Saturday, February 11th, 7.30pm

≪ Previous: A New Regular TLM in the Diocese of Arlington, Virginia

I strongly recommend to our readers that they click over to Catholic World Report for a superb article by Nicholas Senz, director of Religious Education at Our Lady of Mount Carmel Catholic Church in Mill Valley, California. In it, Mr Senz addresses the recent papal proposal to “review” the principles that guide liturgical translations, as well as the contentions of one Fr Michael Ryan that this review is warranted particularly by the pastoral style of Pope Francis. (Fr Ryan is a priest of the Archdiocese of Seattle, and a longtime vocal opponent of the new English translation of the Mass.) First, he addresses the idea that a “solemn” form of language must perforce be somber or depressing, and puts the idea of “humility” in its proper place with a quote from C.S. Lewis that should be translated into Latin and added to the GIRM.

“...you must be rid of the hideous idea, fruit of a widespread inferiority complex, that pomp, on the proper occasions, has any connection with vanity or self-conceit. …The modern habit of doing ceremonial things unceremoniously is no proof of humility; rather it proves the offender’s inability to forget himself in the rite, and his readiness to spoil for everyone else the proper pleasure of ritual.” (Back in the bad old days, this was also known as “false humility.”)

He then addresses the fact that “(d)ecades of poor catechesis have caused the average layperson’s theological vocabulary to atrophy”; I think it goes without saying that such poverty of catechesis was partly caused and partly reinforced by the poverty of the old translation. (In the latter context, we should probably add one of the adjectives commonly joined to the word “poverty”, such as “extreme” or “abject.”) And so, in regard to some of the words that have been deemed objectionable, such as “oblation” and, of course, the perennial difficult word par excellence, “consubstanital,” Mr Senz writes very wisely, “This says less about the fittingness of the words themselves than (it does about) the failure of the Church to impart their meaning. People could learn these terms again, if they were used and explained. We should always be wary of those who doubt the capacities of others—whether it’s their ability to learn, or to understand, or to live the moral life.”

The substance of his critique is addressed to Fr Ryan’s idea that the pastoral style of Pope Francis, which the latter describes as “simplicity, clarity, directness,” etc., somehow makes the use of words like “consubstantial” unjustifiable. (I am not making that up.) To this, Senz rightly replies that the liturgy is not supposed to be an expression of ANY Pope’s personal preferences, much less of his pastoral style. He uses the term “ultramontanism” to describe this, but here I hazard to suggest that this word has become loaded with too much of the history and politics of the last century and a half or more of the Church’s life. He might well have used Fr Hunwicke’s comical neologism “hypersuperueberpapalist,” as he rightly draws the unavoidable bizarre conclusion from Fr Ryan’s bizarre premise: if the liturgy must be retranslated to suit the style of this Papacy, why should it not be retranslated again to suit the style of the next one, and the next one after that, and will Fr Ryan feel the same about this if the next Pope is Cardinal Sarah or Burke?

Anyway, do yourself a favor and read the whole article.

↧

Catholic Artists Society Talk, NYC, Saturday, February 11th, 7.30pm

February 9, 2017, 5:00 am

≫ Next: Update on Yesterday’s News from Virginia

≪ Previous: An Excellent Article on Revisiting Liturgiam Authenticam

Dr Daniel McInerny, noted novelist, playwright and philosopher, will speak for the Catholic Artists Society at the Catholic Center at NYU, located at 238 Thompson Street in Manhattan, this Saturday at 7:30 pm. The title is “Keeping the Faith in the Philosophy of Stories.”

This is the latest in the excellent series, the Art of the Beautiful, which has been running since the Fall.

↧

Latest Images