Colebrook Again

As I live closer to Colebrook than Hobart, I drove to St Patrick's Church again this Sunday, though earlier in the day, as the monks (I mean, Fr Prior and the pre-postulants) planned to sing Terce at 9:45 am, followed by their sung Mass at 10 am, and, as it transpired, the office of Sext a little before noon. 

Being able to join in their solemn, public worship by attending both those Little Hours was a great privilege, as was participating in the supernatural joy of the Missa cantata for the First Sunday of Lent, most fitly adorned by their singing of its magnificent Gregorian propers, all taken from Psalm 90 (the only concession to their small numbers being the psalm-toning of the even verses of the Tract, which even so lasted about six minutes), not to mention the chanting of Mass XVII and Credo I. I was able to join confidently in the Ordinary, all the responses and also the Introit, which shares its melody with that of Trinity Sunday, whose chant I learnt long years ago.

Please do join in prayer that the monastic community of Notre Dame Priory finds its permanent home soon. St Joseph, pray for us.

Mass with Fr Marshall

I first met Fr Marshall when he was still based in Christchurch, and still a member of the Transalpine Redemptorists (apparently, their N.Z. house often received phone calls about booking a seat on the TranzAlpine tourist train!): now he is based in Melbourne, at St Aloysius, Caulfield, but is visiting Tasmania for a week or so, having come down to officiate a baptism. This Sunday, he kindly sang Mass for us at St Canice, Sandy Bay, at the usual time of 11:30 am. Unlike dear Fr Quinn – our usual celebrant, who alas cannot sing, and thus monotones the Mass – he treated us to a full Missa cantata: the choir returned the favour by not merely psalm-toning (as most do) but singing all of the proper Gregorian chant even for this Sunday's Tract, the longest of the liturgical year, seeing as it consists of nearly all of Psalm 90!

He is a wise and learned and friendly priest, who greatly reassured me (the self-trained M.C.) and our servers, that we are basically doing everything right; though of course I have picked up some tips for our next "normal" Latin Mass, such as using a ciborium for the people's hosts (by analogy with OF practice, Fr Quinn has been using a large second paten) and spreading the corporal out before Mass when setting the veiled chalice and paten on the altar (rather than having the celebrant do so at the offertory). Such is my ignorance...

Fr Marshall not having brought an altar missal, he was luckily able to borrow the latest Vatican reprint of the 1962 Missale Romanum from the choir master (!), who just happened to have brought one along with him... However, as I learnt during Mass, it doesn't lie open on the missal stand as well as one would hope, and some of the page turns during the Canon were inconvenient. It was good to have a celebrant who knows the censing prayers by heart, having said them at many a Mass, rather than having to have them read out of the Missal, which is inconvenient and slows matters down rather during what is already a rather complicated action.

Our usual celebrant being a sworn teetotaller, he takes the ablutions in water only, so it occasioned some surprise to the servers to have the M.C. direct them to pour first wine, then wine again, then water... Fr Marshall mentioned that here in Australia (he is a Scotsman who trained for the priesthood in Germany) he often has to tell the server to pour more water at the second ablutions; as a server for many years, I assured him that Australian priests often tell the overeager server to stop pouring so much! De gustibus...

Attendance at the Mass was good – I would say forty or more – though some regulars were absent (given it was not the usual first Sunday), despite notice being given at the last first Sunday Mass. I was happy to relax with friends afterward (including our visitor), having come down to Hobart the afternoon before, and overnighted at a nice b&b. Heading back home at about half four, I arrived at my house in Launceston a little before half seven. I do wish we sometimes had a Latin Mass in the North!

Many thanks once more to Fr Marshall for such a devout and dignified Mass, and for his kindness and support to us Tassie Traddies – and due respect to His Grace, for permitting this public Mass, of course.

Sub umbra alarum Altissimi

I like Invocabit Sunday - the first Sunday of Lent, when "we solemnly immolate the sacrifice of the beginning of Lent" as the priest prays in the Secret.  I like it because all the chants of this day are from the same Psalm: Psalm 90, Qui habitat in adjutorio Altissimi – for we indeed can hope and trust in victory in our Christian combat against the unholy Trinity of our threefold enemy, since we abide in the shelter of the Most High.

Mass at St Canice went well, I thought - despite my singing in the choir!  There were seven of us, including a visitor from overseas; Fr Quinn at the altar was assisted by six servers; and in the nave there were about forty or more (perhaps in absolute terms not so very many, but considering that this Mass is only celebrated once a month, and very late in the morning - we began late, at a quarter to twelve - quite a good showing relatively speaking, especially given the set against the Latin Mass that this archdiocese persists in, the Archbishop having repeatedly made clear to clergy and laity that he will not tolerate any more Latin Masses nor any more celebrants thereof, whatever that silly old Pope may say).  Speaking of the Arch., I hear he's sick of trying to run the place, and may retire early... oh well.

We sang all the Propers to the full chant, even including the supremely long Tract, which took 12 minutes to execute.  Add to that Mass XVII, Credo I, and Attende Domine (twice through) at the Offertory, and we were all quite pleased: the Mass took just an hour and a quarter, which is quick for Fr (who doesn't get much practice of course).

I await now an unbiassed opinion of how our choir performed in our duties.

More on the Proper Chants of the First Sunday of Lent

The chants of the Proper of the first Sunday of Lent are all taken from Psalm 90 - above all, the day's great Tract uses all but three verses of it (why they're omitted, I'm unsure).  I mentioned in an earlier post that two supplements to the Proper are available for optional use: the Offertory Scapulis suis may have its ancient melismatic verses sung with it (the first of these for the first Sunday of Lent being Dicet Domino: susceptor meus es, non timebo a timore nocturno, a sagitta volante per diem. * Scuto..., where the last word indicates the last part of the Offertory antiphon which is thereupon to be repeated), while the Communion Scapulis suis may be repeated after every one or two verses from Psalm 90 (verses 1-3 and 11-16, to be precise).

However, there is another fine item worthy of chanting at Mass if time permit: the last Responsory of Matins, also taken from Psalm 90:

R/. Angelis suis Deus mandávit de te, ut custódiant te in ómnibus viis tuis: * In mánibus portábunt te, ne umquam offéndas ad lápidem pedem tuum.

V/. Super áspidem et basilíscum ambulábis, et conculcábis leónem et dracónem. * In mánibus portábunt te, ne umquam offéndas ad lápidem pedem tuum.

Glória Patri, et Fílio, et Spirítui Sancto. * In mánibus portábunt te, ne umquam offéndas ad lápidem pedem tuum.

There and Back Again

I made very good time on my way back from Hobart: despite a number of delaying factors, I did the 200 km trip in just over 2½ hours, and was home in time for dinner a little after six.

Earlier in the day, after Mass, my mate Justin rather embarrassed himself: he'd had me drive him round Hobart a bit, to see where Cascade Brewery was, and to look in at the Anglican All Saints church in South Hobart (which he'd been advised was worth seeing); we were about to have lunch at the bakery in Battery Point, but I parked nearby next to another architectural site of interest, St George's: as we traipsed up to its door to do as tourists do, he said something along the lines of, "Not another ... Anglican church!" - just as the vicar walked up behind him.  Our visit was therefore curtailed.  I think we were both mortified; luckily, lunch put us back in good spirits (it was then after 2 pm).

Having come down from Launceston, it was good to get to Mass with time to spare that morning.  The numbers in church were a bit less than I'd expected (about 65), but perhaps the very late notice of the change of venue had occasioned this: it was good to see a real spread of ages, from the old through to the young of families.  Mass, I must say, did drag on a bit: the Missa cantata lasted over 80 minutes, despite a homily of only 3.  It's shameful to say, but I got a bit bored at the length of the silences.  However, the choir did very well, singing the full chant for all the Proper - including a fine rendition of the long Tract (with a Byzantinesque ison) that took 12 minutes, but which was worth it - and using Mass XVII and Credo I (as we knew these last items well, Justin and I joined in; I think botched a few bits).  Fr Quinn did a good job, considering that he only says the old Mass once a month at most; understandably, as he doesn't have the practice, he monotoned the lessons and other chants.  It was perhaps a pity that the choir didn't sing something extra at the offertory and communion (the offertory verses from the Offertoriale? more verses from Psalm 90 at communion?), but it is Lent and they had put a great deal of effort into that great Tract (the longest of the year).

After Mass, I felt a bit like the local vicar - all the people seemed to be coming up to me and shaking my hand, saying how they hadn't seen me for a while and all manner of nice things!   (I also learnt a highly amusing and gratifying tale about a certain bishop, and the justifiably low opinion of him - actually expressed to his face - held by various clergy and prelates, but it wouldn't be fit to repeat the details.)   My longtime friends Ben and Jane likewise said hello; I'll be seeing more of them on my next trip down South in April.  What a pity I'll be in Melbourne next week, as I'll miss Simon's birthday bash!  As well, an anonymous person came up, let me know that they, and spouse likewise, are daily readers of my blog, solicitously enquired about how I was finding my relocation here, and invited me to dinner - an invitation I hope to take up soon: thanks, you quite embarrassed me with your kindly words.

Invocabit me, & Our Lady of Lourdes

Work has been a real killer...

The Sunday "at the head of the forty days" was intituled of old Invocabit (me), from the opening of its Introit. (Curiously, while even among Traddies this has died the death, Lutherans still do so!) And how great it is that the Introit (Ps 90:15-16a, 1), the Gradual (Ps 90:11-12a), above all, the Tract (Ps 90:1-7,11-16), the Offertory (Ps 90:4-5a) and the Communion (ditto; and with which we sang further verses of the Psalm again) - every one of the variable chants of the Mass - should all come from that wonderful Compline Psalm, Qui habitat in adjutorio Altissimi, echoing the last words of the Gospel reading: "and behold Angels came and ministered to Him" (St Matthew iv, 11).

Psalm 90 Qui habitat.

1 He that dwelleth in the aid of the most High,
shall abide under the protection of the God of Jacob.
2 He shall say to the Lord: Thou art my protector, and my refuge:
my God, in him will I trust.
3 For he hath delivered me from the snare of the hunters:
and from the sharp word.
4 He will overshadow thee with his shoulders:
and under his wings thou shalt trust.
5 His truth shall compass thee with a shield:
thou shalt not be afraid of the terror of the night.
6 Of the arrow that flieth in the day, of the business that walketh about in the dark:
of invasion, or of the noonday devil.
7 A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand:
but it shall not come nigh thee.
8 But thou shalt consider with thy eyes:
and shalt see the reward of the wicked.
9 Because thou, O Lord, art my hope:
thou hast made the most High thy refuge.
10 There shall no evil come to thee:
nor shall the scourge come near thy dwelling.
11 For he hath given his angels charge over thee;
to keep thee in all thy ways.
12 In their hands they shall bear thee up:
lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.
13 Thou shalt walk upon the asp and the basilisk:
and thou shalt trample under foot the lion and the dragon.
14 Because he hoped in me I will deliver him:
I will protect him because he hath known my name.
15 He shall cry to me, and I will hear him:
I am with him in tribulation, I will deliver him, and I will glorify him.
16 I will fill him with length of days;
and I will show him my salvation.

This Psalm is indeed a word of hope, and I must recommend the great 17 sermons of St Bernard upon it: they are available in Latin here.

Since the people's Kyriales at the Pro don't contain Mass XVII, we sang the ferial Mass XVIII instead, so they could join in with the Ordinary, while we executed the Propers (lest we all die of oversinging, or of the M.C.'s wrath, we psalm-toned the Gradual and Tract). Curiously, it was decided to sing Psalm 129, the De Profundis, with the Offertory as antiphon... while at Mass's end, in anticipation of the next day, we sang the Lourdes Hymn, before Mass and the Asperges we led the congregation in James McAuley's "May this Lenten discipline", one of the last decent productions of Australian Catholic hymnwriters.

Fr Rowe gave us a sobering sermon on the three sources of temptation: "the lust of the flesh" (impurity), "the lust of the eyes"(avarice), "and the pride of life" (ambition) - I St John ii, 16 - and their respective contraries and cures: fasting, almsgiving, and prayer. He especially and forcefully counselled guarding oneself from the deluge of impurity now abroad, that vice and crime more answerable for the damnation of souls than any other, warning us of the awful truth that St Paul reminds us of: "Neither fornicators,... nor adulterers, nor the effeminate,... shall inherit the Kingdom of God" (I Cor. vi, 10-11).

And then, on Monday evening, we were able to sing a Missa Cantata for the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes. Again, the propers of the Mass are most beautiful and apposite. While it would have been nice to sing Alme Pater, we went with Cum jubilo instead (that is, Mass IX, not Mass X), since again the people's Kyriales only have the latter. For the Offertory Motet, we rendered the Vespers hymn of the feast, and at Communion we sang the Magnificat interleaved with the Communion itself, finishing off after Mass with the Lourdes Hymn, of course. Fr Rowe being away preaching an Ignatian retreat somewhere in Sydney, Fr Holmes, a fine old Irish priest - a Camillan, who says Mass with effortless grace and devotion - stepped in, and gave us a gentle homily recounting his own pilgrimage to Lourdes, back in 1965.