Pentecost Missa Cantata

To-day, for our Latin Mass in Hobart, we were back where it all began, at Sacred Heart, New Town, where Fr (now Bp) Jarrett began the monthly Missæ cantatæ in the nineties. It was my parish at the time, and I have fond memories of my time there.

I remember "catching the bug" of the Traditional Latin Mass at Sacred Heart, when on the first Sunday of November in 1994 he celebrated the first "Extraordinary Form" Mass, with the choir singing Byrd's Mass for three voices; and when, exactly a year later, he sang High Mass (with Frs Oppenheimer and Parsons assisting), the choir rendering Victoria's Mass O quam gloriosum.

In February 1996, this time with yours truly in the choir, singing a far more modest all-Gregorian repertoire, Fr Jarrett began regular first Sunday sung Masses. He continued for five years, until he was promoted to Bishop of Lismore; I sang with the choir until I moved to Melbourne in 1999.

Fr John Wall, then based at St Canice in Lower Sandy Bay, took over the celebration of the first Sunday sung Masses until his untimely death; since then, for the last decade, the much-loved Fr Gerard Quinn, CP (easily the hardest working, humblest and holiest priest of the Archdiocese), has done so.

I returned to Tasmania five years ago, first resuming singing in the choir, and then promoting myself (completely untrained) to M.C., as it seemed to help expedite matters. And since February this year – with all thanks going to His Grace for blessing our endeavours – we have had Latin Mass at least twice a month, including the full Easter Triduum for the first time.  I have grown used to forever driving to and from Hobart!

Repairs to the roof at St Canice made us decide to move some of the June and July Masses to New Town. To-day, we had a visiting priest as celebrant: Fr Suresh from Tamworth. His visit we pray will prove fruitful; he certainly sings Mass with great care and attention (during the chanting of the Alleluia verses I suddenly realised he was singing along from memory), and is a great preacher, too.

Just as in the nineties, we had a community "pot-luck" lunch afterwards – I kept on expecting Fr Jarrett to walk into the parish centre and chat happily with us all, beneath the great painting of the Sacred Heart that hangs in pride of place. It was a marvellous occasion and made me realise how well set out Sacred Heart is for our needs: the church is a good size, very well appointed and cared for, with room outdoors for children to play afterwards and a place for all to meet and eat in the parish centre.

It was great to chat with the sacristan, too, whom I hadn't seen for years. It always was a most welcoming and Catholic parish, and evidently maintains that spirit, even if now part of the Cathedral parish; again, how kind of His Grace to allow us to use the church and facilities.

Winter remains curiously warm and sunny; it was lovely driving home this afternoon.

Next Sunday, Trinity Sunday the 15th of June, a sung Traditional Latin Mass will again be celebrated at 10:30 am at Sacred Heart, New Town. (I will be in Melbourne; I daresay all will go well.)

The next Mass after that, the "traditional" first Sunday Missa cantata, will be at St Canice at 11:30 am as usual; but on the following two Sundays, the 13th and 20th of July, Latin Mass will again be sung at Sacred Heart at 10:30 am.

With all this shuttling to and fro for Mass, I must admit to feeling relief at the prospect of the last two Sundays in June at home without having to drive three hours each way...

Pugin Bicentennial Mass

While in Hobart we made do without incense at our Missa cantata last Sunday (making my duties as M.C. a bit easier, be it noted), over at Colebrook they had a bishop to sing Mass, a choir to chant the chant and sing polyphony, and - our thurifer!  The church there was packed, thanks be to God.

The Pugin Foundation website provides many useful details about their glorious bicentennial celebrations, centred on a holy Mass celebrated in honour of, and not least to pray for the repose of the soul of Pugin, that great church architect; and Bishop Jarrett's sterling homily may be read there also.

Apparently the solemn service was filmed, and will be broadcast in September.

(It was a pity to miss my former parish priest, now Bishop of Lismore and Apostolic Administrator of Brisbane, but every man must do his duty, and sometimes important events do clash.)

Congratulations

Pleasing news from Rome: the Holy Father has given the nod to His Lordship Geoffrey Jarrett, Bishop of Lismore, to pop over the border and take the reins as Apostolic Administrator of the Archdiocese of Brisbane.  Behind the Banana Curtain, in partibus infidelium (or at least hæreticorum) he will find Augean Stables to purge and cleanse – God strengthen him for this great labour, so necessary for the salvation of souls.

Oremus pro Antistite Godefrido.

Stet et pascat in fortitudine tua, Domine, in sublimitate nominis tui.


(Let us pray for Bishop Geoffrey.


May he stand and feed [them] in Thy strength, O Lord, in the sublimity of Thy Name.)

— cf. Micheas v, 4a.

The verse alluded to goes on "and they shall be converted"; indeed may those who were as sheep going all astray turn back to the shepherd and bishop of their souls (cf. I Peter ii, 25).  God knows Brisbane has a reputation for being a city full of errant Catholics!

Further details available from Australia Incognita and Vexilla Regis, not to mention English Catholic...

9th Anniversary

Congratulations as always to the Most Reverend Geoffrey Jarrett, my former parish priest, now Lord Bishop of Lismore in N.S.W., on his having reached the ninth anniversary of his episcopal consecration on the Feast of the Chair of St Peter (yesterday).  I well recall his words, quoting Newman, at the end of that ordination Mass: "Those who are on the side of the Apostles are on the winning side."  As Cardinal Pell said at the time, "Now the northern frontier is secure."  Ad multos annos!

Dedication of St John Lateran

To think I was in the Lateran Basilica only a few months ago... I must say, I wasn't that taken with it (!), but probably that's because I was rushing through on my way helter-skelter to a number of important shrines that day: from St Peter's, I'd walked to St Mary Major's, then - after swiftly passing through St John Lateran - I did the Holy Stairs, and then hurried on to veneratethe relics of the Passion at Santa Croce, before walking yet further...

What struck me about the Lateran was the nave with its huge statues of the Apostles.

However, the significance of the Lateran is that it - not St Peter's - is the Cathedral of Rome: hence it is the Mother and Head of all churches in the City and throughout the wide world; there the Pope has his chair, his cathedra, his throne, and from there he teaches the nations. And it is the Papal Archbasilica of Our Saviour, for all stems from Christ, Who is our King, and King of all; and the Pope, Father of Christendom, is His Vicar, granted full ordinary power to bind and loose, till He come again.

What strikes me, now I think about it, is that this day marks an important anniversary for a priest and prelate who's been a great influence on me: on this day in 1965, the future Bp Jarrett of Lismore was received into the Church, after he had been for some years an Anglican minister. Hence his episcopal motto: Supra firmam petram - Upon solid rock. It was the antiphon at None on that day.

Happy Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel

Flos Carmeli,

vitis florigera,

splendor cæli,

Virgo puerpera,

singularis.

Mater mitis,

sed viri nescia,

Carmelitis

da privilegia,

stella maris.

A year ago today I was serving Pontifical Mass for the feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel, a feast dear to me because of the wonderful life and witness of her spiritual daughters, the Discalced Carmelite Nuns of her Carmel here in Launceston.

Here is Bishop Jarrett's homily for the occasion.

Sunday Latin Masses at the Carmel of Lismore

When I was based in Hobart in the nineties, my then P.P., Fr Jarrett, had a monthly Traditional Latin Mass, at which I sang (I also began my serving of the old Mass there too); this is the same one that, mutatis mutandis has continued - despite all the ill-will of the crotchety establishment in this unhappy Archdiocese: I recall someone at St Mary's Cathedral even took time, stupidly, to preach against it, whereupon some Cathedral parishioners decided to desert their angry pastor and come along to the Mass of the ages at Sacred Heart, glad to learn of its existence! - albeit now at the church of St Canice, ever since his departure in 2001 to become Bishop of Lismore in N.S.W.

I learn that the good Bishop, a true pastor (free of the tired seventies liberal straitjacket) has been again helping fulfil the just aspirations of some of his flock: a monthly Traditional Mass has begun at the Carmelite Monastery at Goonellabah (a southern suburb of Lismore), indeed has been held there for some time now, and will become a Missa cantata come Pentecost; already, numbers are up to seventy, with three dedicated servers. (Grafton, seat of the local Anglican bishopric, also has a Latin Mass from time to time with up to a hundred devotees, but a shortage of available dedicated clergy has so far prevented it becoming a regular fixture; like me in Tasmania, some of the Graftonians drive for an hour and more to go to Lismore for the Traditional Mass instead.)

When in Lismore for His Lordship's episcopal consecration, I visited the Carmel, being edified of course by the holy enclosure so strictly observed: they are of one mind and heart with their southern sisters here at the Launceston Carmel, having avoided the slipshod banalities that have seduced even some Carmels (such as that of Adelaide, which observes neither enclosure nor silence, and - surprise, surprise - has no vocations: when will the liberals learn? probably at death!).  They remain firm in adhering to what is tried and true, the primitive charism of St Teresa and St John of the Cross, rejecting the novelties of a transient age.

Since I was there, the sanctuary has been paved with marble, and a fitting predella installed upon which the altar has been raised as is right.  Of course, aside from the monthly Latin Mass, the nuns have daily Mass at 7am, plus a parish Mass on Sundays for the convenience of local residents. I recall the former Bishop of Lismore customarily said the daily Mass there himself, and it seems that the nuns have cultivated similarly good relations with his successor! After all, a convent of cloistered religious, praying and sacrificing for the world in general and priests in particular, is such a powerful supernatural aid in the spiritual warfare that any Bishop would rejoice to have a Carmel intercede with the Divine Majesty for the sanctification of himself, his priests, his seminarians, and all his people.

If you seek for salvation - I am all serious - solicit the prayers of Carmelite nuns.  

Their prayers work.

Chrism Mass

While I haven't attended the Chrism Mass this year, I have acquired a copy, not of the holy oils, but of a sermon preached at this Mass, not here but in northern New South Wales, by the Bishop of Lismore, His Lordship Geoffrey Jarrett.  As it is a public document, and worthy of reportage, I feel it fitting to post it here:

Mass of the Chrism

St Carthage’s Cathedral, 6th April, 2009

Dear brother Priests, Deacons, Religious Brothers and Sisters, Seminarians, and Catholic people of our Church of the Diocese of Lismore:

Once more we are back in the Mother Church of the Diocese for this annual Mass, and I welcome you all most warmly, especially those of you who have travelled some distance from your home parishes to be here. This Mass is a very special manifestation of the unity of our Church, the priests gathered around the high priesthood of the bishop, and all of you, Christ’s faithful, in all your variety and gifts gathered together with your shepherds, a people of one faith, one Lord, one baptism. How intimately we are related by that one baptism, most particularly by our sharing, each in accordance with our part in the Church, in the one Priesthood of Jesus Christ.

Especially since the impetus of the teachings of the Second Vatican Council on the sharing of all the baptised in the priestly office of Christ, we have come to appreciate better, and more effectively encourage, the Christian people in their own degree of priesthood conferred by baptism and confirmation. This teaching appears from the beginning, it is of apostolic origin, but at times it has been obscured by a much stronger emphasis on the distinction of the priestly character of those ordained in the Sacrament of Order. In modern times, the priestly character of all the lay faithful was brought to the fore by Pope Pius XII in his encyclical on the Mystical Body of Christ, in the hey-day of the movements of Catholic Action. Even earlier, in 1937, an Australian bishop, Justin Simonds, Archbishop of Hobart and later of Melbourne, had written a Pastoral Letter On our Incorporation into the Priesthood of Christ. At the time it was misunderstood and criticized in some quarters as giving rise to confusion regarding the uniqueness of the ordained Priesthood, but it still remains a beautiful teaching later vindicated and expounded upon by Popes and an Ecumenical Council, as the foundation of the mission of every member of the Church to bear witness to the Gospel.

The doctrine of the Priesthood of the Laity is not under challenge today, even if it is not fully appreciated, but questions do surround some aspects of the practical application of lay ministry within the Church as it relates to an appreciation of the unique nature of the ministerial priesthood, without which there would be neither the Eucharist, nor even the mission of the Church herself.

It is within this context that there is significance in the recent announcement by Pope Benedict of a Year for Priests, to commence in nine weeks time, on the Feast of the Sacred Heart. While the Holy Father does express concern at a trend to dilute the priestly rôle in some places — perhaps having in mind such developments as entrusting to lay people more regular liturgical functions than are envisaged for Extraordinary Ministers — the principal objective in establishing the Year for Priests is to encourage priests to strive for the spiritual and moral perfection which is the hallmark of an authentically priestly heart, and on which above all, he says, the priestly ministry depends.

On this occasion I wish to commend to everyone of us, priests and laity alike, this initiative of Pope Benedict for the encouragement of our priests. Day in and day out they labour to encourage you in your Christian life and build up the Church in the parish. They bear the brunt of the effects of the increasing secularisation of our society, with its indifference to religion and reluctance to engage in any binding commitment that compromises the pursuit of material and pleasurable goals. They often receive more criticism and complaint from people with unrealistic expectations, than they do compliment and gratitude for their generous spiritual service, their devotion to prayer and liturgy, and to the teaching of the faith of the Church. As men who have given the totality of their lives to the service of Christ and His Church, including the sacrifice of a home and family of their own, it is not loneliness simply to be without the physical presence of a wife and family. The loneliness that can most crucify a priest, that nails him to the cross like his Master, that can pierces to the soul, is a loneliness that comes from the indifferent crowd and the mockers who whisper, ‘Come down from the cross.’ It is the loneliness that comes when a priest must live face to face with practical unbelief, with diminished numbers of men and women whose hearts are fired by faith, by love for Christ and the Church; when he cannot lean on the support of those who share the great ideals of the common tradition and are committed to the same loyalties. This is the loneliness of the modern Gethsemane. How this Holy Week of the Lord’s suffering and death goes to the heart of the priestly vocation, when only Mary and John and those few good women stood with Him against the darkness.

But then, as God had planned, comes the triumph of the Resurrection. As it is with the Church, so it is with the priest. If we have an eye for them, green shoots of new life are also breaking out, signs of spring appear. The new family that moves into the parish, the success of new initiatives in the parish school, the response to a crisis that brings things to a successful outcome, the appearance of young people at Mass and the sacraments, furtively and timidly perhaps for fear of their peers, the young people who follow their heart to seek direction and power from a source that will not fail them. God does have his ways, the unseen ways of grace. And our diocese: we went those seven years to 2008 without an ordination. But look at the young faces in the sanctuary tonight, and pray for these seminarians, the future of our presbyterium. And more are set to join them. For those studying at Vianney College, the coming Year of Priests has an added significance: it marks the sesquicentenary of the death of the saintly Curé d’Ars, St John Vianney. After having been dismissed by some as an unrealistic model, he is being rediscovered in the idealism of the young. Inscribed on the base of his statue in the grounds of a new house of formation I visited in England last year I read the following prayer: “Holy Curé of Ars, you have become an outstanding model for the priests of the whole world. Give our priests a love of the Church, apostolic zeal and steadfastness in faith. Awaken in the hearts of young people an awareness of the splendour of the priesthood, and the joy of responding to the call of the Good Shepherd. St John Vianney, intercede for us to God. Through you, humble and faithful pastor, may we be granted an abundance of priestly vocations to serve the people of our diocese.” 

There is another sesquicentenary occurring at this time which I believe is also significant for priests. It is just past the 150th anniversary of the birth in Dublin of Joseph Aloysius Marmion. During his studies in Dublin and then in Rome at the College of the propagation of the Faith his ambition was to become a missionary priest in Australia. But on a visit to the famous abbey of Maredsous in Belgium he discovered the call of the cloister. Strongly dissuaded by his bishop he nonetheless persevered, and eventually was permitted to enter Maredsous where, to honour the place of his birth, he took the religious name, Columba. Older priests will know the rest of his story. He later became the Abbot of Maredsous and one of the greatest teachers of the Christian spiritual life in the 20th century, far beyond his death in 1923. His teaching is recognisable in a number of the documents of the Second Vatican Council. That’s not surprising, because the records show that after the Bible, the Catechism of the Council of Trent and the 1917 Code of Canon Law, the spiritual books of Dom Columba Marmion were the most universally read by the bishops of the Council. Christ in His Mysteries, Christ the Life of the Soul, and Christ the Ideal of the Priest sold some 1.5 million copies in many languages. “I owe more to Columba Marmion for initiating me into things spiritual than to any other spiritual writer” is the testimony of Pope John Paul II. The same Pope beatified him in the year 2000.

In the last four years modern translations and reprints of Blessed Columba Marmion have appeared and are popular again among young Catholics rediscovering the Faith, and among a new generation of seminarians and priests.

I speak of Marmion as an early influence on my own life in bringing together, in a simplicity that one could understand, all the aspects of the Gospel - as a life to be interiorized, and as a life to be lived. I’ve no doubt Pope Benedict would commend a rediscovery of Marmion as a very profitable project for all of us priests during the coming year. The book which I sent to each of you recently, Reclaiming our Priestly Character, prompted me to dust off my original editions of Christ in His Mysteries and Christ the Ideal of the Priest, and once again to add the reflection of a few pages of Marmion to my daily prayer. It is still as fresh and beautiful, but I have to say I find it a challenging reminder of how one can slip backwards, without even realizing it, and why we need this annual occasion in which to renew the Promises of our Ordination.

Now in this Mass of the Holy Oils, Christ in His Mysteries will reveal Himself in all his sacramental beauty and power, and take us up with Him, and those whom these Oils will anoint in the coming year, closer to the Kingdom of the Father. Mary, Mother of the Church and Mother of priests, pray that it may be so.

WYD Memoirs: Wednesday 16th July 2008

On Wednesday morning Daniel (the other pilgrim staying) and I got ready and headed off to catch the bus from Drummoyne to Balmain. At my suggestion, rather than change buses to get to the church, we walked - a good 20 minutes, in good sunny tho' cool weather! Balmain looks a nice place, and certainly one wouldn't starve if one could afford the prices at the many eateries we passed!

My old parish priest, now Bishop of Lismore, was our catechist and celebrant this morning: His Lordship Bishop Jarrett.

He spoke well, and after the catechesis we all prepared for Mass of Our Lady of Mt Carmel. It was a great privilege to be chosen as a torchbearer, since it gave me a seat with an excellent view of proceedings (on the Epistle side) without having to do much except kneel and hold a torch from the Sanctus until the Ablutions. His Lordship preached on the many interventions of Our Lady in history, whether to give the Scapular to St Simon Stock, or to otherwise manifest her maternal care for all God's children in more recent times.



(In this photograph I am the server sitting closest to the altar behind the clergy in choir. The sacred ministers are wearing the vestments made for Fr Rowe's first Mass.)

Communion took a long time, and I took the opportunity to say a very quiet Rosary, counting on my fingers. The chant at Mass was very good, and the polyphonic motets also - I recognized Victoria's Ave Maria at the Offertory.

After Pontifical Mass, Fr Rowe wanted to say a Low Mass, so I served his as well.

Then came a BBQ lunch (two sausages and sauce in a bread roll, plus some chips - 'crisps', not 'fries', for any international readers! - and a can of soft drink). That proved insufficient, the drink, I mean, so I joined my old pals John, Tony, &c. at the pub on the corner for two pints of some good beer.

The liquid lunch made me late for the Gregorian Chant workshop with the inestimable and very dapper Scott Turkington, but I got a lot out of it: it's great to be taught by someone who knows so much and is able to impart his knowledge kindly and effortlessly.

After that, more chant! We all had to practice for Vespers.

His Eminence George Cardinal Pell arrived, at 4pm, in choir dress (sans cappa, alas), and was met at the door by the clergy, who then escorted him to his throne, while the choir sang a magnificent Ecce sacerdos magnus. A large part of Pontifical Vespers involves dressing and redressing the celebrant: as the choir sang, H.E. was vested for the service. Vespers ensued: it was a Votive Vespers of Our Lady of Mt Carmel, and sung very well, IMHO. His Eminence preached after Vespers, congratulating us on the occasion, and promising to tell His Holiness, with whom he was to dine, about our love for the Traditional Liturgy and our loyalty to the Pope. After sermon, he gave Pontifical Benediction, which was sublime, and included at its end the roof-liftingly loud singing by one and all of the Laudes Regiæ. As the Cardinal departed the church, we all knelt in waves to receive his blessing as he passed, then we all filed out to genuflect on the left knee and kiss his ring. Magnificent! Two hours had passed sublimely.

After these proceedings, I ventured back into church at the sound of a bell, to find that the French pilgrims were about to have Low Mass. This I attended; and just after the Prayers at the Foot of the Altar, a second priest and server came out to the Sacred Heart altar - it transpired that it was the Mass of a newly ordained American priest, celebrating a Novus Ordo 'without congregation', ad orientem (tho' in English, sotto voce so as not to disturb the other priest at the high altar).

Alas, the evening pilgrim meal was only available in the city, so we had to make do, after all the liturgical wonders, with a poor meal of cold leftover sausages and bread rolls.

I could not describe the look on the faces of the French pilgrims as they realized the full horror of what little food awaited them for dinner: it must have confirmed all their fears about cuisine des Anglo-Saxonnes.

One last event - 20 decades of the Rosary, kneeling, in Latin, with Cardinal George of Chicago... Now it was great, but rather tiring I must admit. Attendance was a good deal sparser, and I suspect many were put off by having to say 200 Hail Mary's instead of just the usual 50.

So today I heard 4 Masses and said 5 Rosaries.

I finally got back to my homestay at about half past ten.

A Firm Hand at the Rudder

When I lived in Hobart, I was fortunate to have as parish priest Fr Geoffrey Jarrett, now Bishop of Lismore in northern N.S.W. I see from his diocese's website that he's announced a Review of his Diocese to take place in 2009, and am gladdened as always by his firm grasp of the issues at hand, and his faithful indication of the right direction to take - always towards greater fidelity to Christ and His Church.

While it is only a subsidiary point, from my perspective I would like to highlight his warm commendation of the Liturgy of the Hours as the prayer for all the Church:

We should also be promoting among all members of the Church the prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours, the liturgy of the whole Church prayed with the whole Church and [able to be] led by lay people whether Mass can be celebrated or not. It would be a wonderful thing and a fulfilment of the serious encouragement of the Church if, at a stated time every day in each parish, priest and people came together in the church to celebrate morning and evening prayer (Lauds and Vespers).