A Prayer after Communion from the 1599 Primer

This prayer, appearing in the post-Tridentine 1571 Officium B. M. V. nuper reformatum, and put into English by Richard Verstegen in the 1599 Primer or Office of the Blessed Virgin Marie that was printed at Antwerp and smuggled into England for the use of recusant Catholics, is a very fine summary of what the Blessed Sacrament is and ought be for us; I have modernized the spelling and made a few minor punctuation changes, but have retained both “reduce”, in its old meaning of ‘bring back’, as the rendering of reducat, and the old word “costage”, meaning ‘expense or provision for a journey’, as the rendering of viaticum:

Alia Oratio post communionem.

Ineffabilem misericordiam tuam, Domine Jesu Christe, humiliter exoro, ut hoc sacramentum corporis et sanguinis tui, quod indignus suscepi, sit mihi purgatio scelerum, sit fortitudo fragilium, sit contra mundi pericula firmamentum, sit impetratio veniæ, sit stabilimentum gratiæ, sit medicina vitæ, sit memoria tuæ passionis, sit contra debilitatem fomentum, sit viaticum meæ peregrinationis. Euntem me conducat, errantem me reducat, revertentem me suscipiat, titubantem me teneat, cadentem me erigat, et perseverantem me in gloriam introducat. O altissime Deus, beatissima præsentia corporis et sanguinis tui sic immutet palatum cordis mei, ut præter te nullam unquam sentiat dulcedinem, nullam amet pulchritudinem, nullum quærat illicitum amorem, nullam desideret consolationem, nullam admittat unquam delectationem, nullum curet honorem, nullam timeat crudelitatem. Qui vivis et regnas cum Deo Patre in unitate Spiritus Sancti, Deus, per omnia sæcula sæculorum. Amen.

Another prayer after receiving the Blessed Sacrament.

O Lord Jesu Christ, I humbly beseech thy unspeakable mercy, that this sacrament of thy body and blood, which I unworthy have received, may be to me a purging of offences, a fortitude against frailties, a fortress against the perils of the world, an obtaining of pardon, an establishment of grace, a medicine of life, a memory of thy passion, a nourishment against weakness, a costage of my pilgrimage. Let it guide me going, reduce me wandering, receive me returning again, uphold me stumbling, lift me up falling, and persevering bring me into glory. O highest God, let the most blessed presence of thy body and blood so alter the taste of my heart, that besides thee at any time it feel no sweetness, it love no fairness, it seek no unlawful love, it desire no consolation, it admit no delectation at any time, it care for no honour, it fear no cruelty. Who livest and reignest, God, with God the Father, in the unity of the Holy Ghost, world without end. Amen.

Consider what is said about the Eucharist in this prayer. 

May it be for the pray-er: 

1. a purging of offences, 
2. a fortitude against frailties, 
3. a fortress against the perils of the world, 
4. an obtaining of pardon, 
5. an establishment of grace, 
6. a medicine of life, 
7. a memory of thy [i.e. Christ’s] passion, 
8. a nourishment against weakness, 
9. a costage of my pilgrimage.

And then let it: 

1. guide me going, 
2. reduce me wandering, 
3. receive me returning again, 
4. uphold me stumbling, 
5. lift me up falling, and 
6. persevering bring me into glory.

Moreover, may it so change the tastes of the human heart that: 

1. besides thee [i.e. Christ] at any time it feel no sweetness, 
2. it love no fairness, 
3. it seek no unlawful love, 
4. it desire no consolation, 
5. it admit no delectation at any time, 
6. it care for no honour, 
7. it fear no cruelty. 

How surprising that this fine prayer seems to have fallen out of common use.

Vampiric Christians?

I am most amused to note that recent visits to this humble blog have been increased by references from a site to me hitherto unknown, yclept vampirestat.com (I hope it's legit, I haven't actually looked at it); doubtless my tangential reference to a penny dreadful in my last post somehow drew the attention thereof.

This has reminded me, moreover, of comments a friend made about the views of a mutual acquaintance from my days in Western Australia: he commented on the struggles some have in living in obedience to the commandments, who through their frailty and temptations fall oft into sin – these, said he, are as it were vampiric Christians! – who need frequent lavings in Christ's Blood, as it were, through the administration to them of the Sacrament of Penance, in addition to frequent suppings of that real Blood when receiving the Most Blessed Eucharist.

I am not at all sure I like the sound of this. Such a strange way of describing affairs may well be offensive to pious ears. As to what it appears meant to signify, speaking only of myself, I find frequent confession and frequent Communion to be the two pillars of the Christian life; I hope that is not too vampiric.

Some indeed lapse and relapse into sin, and must struggle to keep their head above water, as it were, by "spitting the poison out" (as the Imitation of Christ advises) and hieing themselves to the confessional, ere they may partake of the saving Banquet. For while the Eucharist burns away venial sin, and fortifies the soul against sinning, only priestly absolution sacramentally remits mortal sin (though of course an act of perfect contrition, with the resolve to confess in due time, achieves the same, yet it has not the same certainty as sacerdotal absolution, so to speak).

However, backsliders, those chained to sinful habits, and those "bound in sin's own blindness", too unwary of the dangers posed by proximate occasions of sin – for "death cometh up through the windows" and "he who loves the danger will perish in it" are surely not to be considered "vampires",  irreversibly damned through no fault of their own by the attack of another, who thereafter can only maintain the semblance of life by the further commission of murder! That sort of nonsense is clearly opposed to the true doctrines of Christianity. We all of us have free will, and if we sin we can always repent and seek forgiveness, "seventy times seven", for even "the just man falls seven times a day", yet with every temptation the Lord always provides the grace necessary to escape it.

I suspect that the person who described matters in this way was being tempted to despair. It also sounds like he was deluded by the supposed glamour of evil: how falsely "comforting" to fondly regard oneself as a tragic antihero, rather than as a sinner just like anyone else. Please pray for him, and for all in like difficulties, that, even if they feel a heavy burden on their conscience, and feel trapped by their circumstances, they may find the remedy for every distress in humble confession and grateful reception of the Blessed Sacrament, knowing that "In His will is our peace".

Hybrid Mass

For various reasons I was late to Mass (OF, at Carmel, being the usual sung Votive of Our Lady of Mt Carmel) this morning. Foreseeing this, I had earlier read over the Mass of the day (EF, Our Lady on Saturday, Vultum tuum) down to the Gospel. It struck me how much better prepared I was, by the prayers of the EF, for the OF (at which I eventually arrived just in time for the Gospel, as it happened). Now that’s a “hybrid Mass” – EF first half, and OF second half! – indeed, the reverse of the awful “hybrid Mass” ordered by some bishops in recent decades, who mandated the OF Liturgy of the Word at the EF Mass (having attended it, I can assure readers it just doesn’t work).

I was struck by the beginning of the (EF) Gospel, being the account of the Adoration of the Shepherds (St Luke ii, 15b-20) from the Dawn Mass of Christmas:

In illo tempore: Pastores loquebantur ad invicem: Transeamus usque Bethlehem, et videamus hoc verbum quod factum est, quod Dominus ostendit nobis.

 

(At that time: The shepherds said to each other: Let us go over to Bethlehem, and let us behold this word that “has been made”, which the Lord hath shewn unto us.)

For in truth at that time I was running (festinans) to get to church, that is, to the mystic Bethlehem, “the House of Bread”, there to behold the “Verbum quod factum est” beneath the Sacramental veil, as the Lord hath shewn us (when He said, “Do this in commemoration of Me”), and indeed yet more marvellously to find and receive Him, before, like those shepherds, to the world I “returned, glorifying and praising God”.

******

This afternoon I fly to Melbourne, there to stay for a few days, before work resumes...

Fr Blake on Our Lady as Model Communicant

Fr Ray Blake has a most devout and thought-provoking post about Our Lady, the perfect model of all communicants, truly a Spiritual Vessel uniquely fit for the Lord.  Indeed, were we not commanded to communicate, who could imagine himself worthy to receive Christ?  But Truth Himself saith, Take, eat.  With the Centurion, Holy Church bids us pray, "Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed."  And thus we too are graced, healed, hallowed by His Presence.  "Come to my heart, Lord Jesus: there is room there enough for Thee."

Mucking Out

I now know how Hercules felt about the Augean stables – I had to get up on a teetering ladder, itself atop a balcony about two storeys in the air, in order to clear out the spouting, full of stinky foul leaves and twigs from the adjacent jacaranda tree.  The down pipe itself was blocked up, and so the spouting had a most putrid odour, no doubt produced by a slimy microbial slurry infesting the watery mess.  There were even two full-grown weeds growing hydroponically!

After scooping out three buckets' worth of slops, I managed at last to get a hose up from the garden below, and blast out the remaining direful detritus, unblocking the downpipe.  All that remained to do was to go down to the drain underneath, unblock that too (providing the garden bed with rich fertiliser indeed, not dissimilar from ordure by smell at least), and then have a good shower and scrub, leaving my clothes in the laundry for a thorough washing.  Only after scrubbing my hands with several different solutions did the appalling whiff of horse-dung finally seem to depart.

This was the sort of unlovely job that Dad always did, but he's far too far gone to do anything anymore.

Earlier to-day, the extended family had all gone out to visit my aged father for his 84th birthday at the nursing home.  Poor Dad! he was hardly able to speak, smile, eat, drink, or even just keep awake.  Parkinsons disease is vile.  Please pray for him in his misery.

For tea to-night I consoled myself with a pot of paté spread on bread.  I think I'll now go grab a beer too...

Much earlier, this morning, I had been at Mass at the Church of the Apostles, and then went to Confession afterwards as is my Saturday custom.  It was nice to hear Mass in honour of Our Lady on Saturday; the celebrant was notably pious, and even used the Roman Canon.  I feel so much better for having also been to Mass yester-day (when I brought along my old Missal, and read the prayers of the Mass of the Stigmata of St Francis).  

Receiving Holy Communion daily is an inestimable blessing, even the greatest benefit I reckon.  I recall one convert explaining that he had read in the Acts of the Apostles that the first Christians met daily for "the breaking of bread", and that he therefore sought out whatsoever church still did so – hence his becoming a Catholic.

Just some random thoughts.

Ante-Communion and the Holy Communion

It's really OK to miss the first half of Mass... on weekdays!

That's my understanding, anyway; while - of course - one prefers to arrive on time and even earlier (so as to prepare and pray), if one doesn't get to church on time, as weekday Masses are entirely voluntary anyway, then one shouldn't think that one cannot turn up late, nor should one think that, if one is late, one shouldn't receive Holy Communion (as long as one doesn't arrive so late that it would appear scandalous).

After all, Canon Law provides that, even outside of Mass, a priest ought give Communion to those of the faithful who ask for It:

Canon 918 — It is most strongly recommended that the faithful receive holy communion in the course of a eucharistic celebration. If, however, for good reason they ask for it apart from the Mass, it is to be administered to them, observing the liturgical rites.

Through laziness, these days even priests too often palm off onto lay volunteers the task of bringing Holy Communion to the sick, and to them alone, perhaps only once a week or less; yet here it seems to suggest that a worker, for instance, who cannot get to a weekday Mass, but would have wished to, may ask his priest to communicate him.

An interesting canon! I suspect that it applied more in days of yore, when Mass could only be celebrated in the morning (from an hour before sunrise to an hour after noon).

Recall that in the old Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico, such was the continuous press of humble pilgrims that the clergy were wont to distribute Holy Communion at the altar of the Blessed Sacrament every quarter hour.

I say it's alright to miss the first half, for the obvious reason that - as I perforce did to-day - if you miss the first half, you can later "catch up" by reading over the relevant parts from your missal (presumably skipping the Dominus vobiscum's).

It is just as obvious that missing the second half of Mass, the sacred Action, means missing out on the Sacrifice and Communion, which one cannot supply at home!

Remember, dear reader, Chesterton's saying: If something is worth doing, it's worth doing badly.

This certainly applies to the Novus Ordo, as exemplified in the liturgical practice of the Church at large; and it applies to the individual Western Christian in due proportion also. (I trust my sense of humour is evident here.)

While of course one cannot "make Eucharist" at home (apologies for the rather modern jargon), one can at least read the first half of Mass, as a sort of paraliturgy (that dreadful term so often used in my youth for funny made-up Catholic "rituals", loosely based on the first half of Mass).

Anglicans of course will denominate the first half of the Mass the Ante-Communion, a good term, since it points out how the preparatory rites and Scriptural lessons are all ordained and oriented toward the second half of the service, what Catholics call the Liturgy of the Eucharist, and what Anglicans call the Holy Communion or the Communion Office.

Just as Exposition and Benediction is meant to be not merely a service of worship of Our Lord in His Sacrament, but an expression of our yearning to receive Him worthily, since the Eucharist was instituted ut sumatur (that It be consumed); so the fore-Mass (as Pius Parsch called it) is fundamentally ordered toward the second half of the Mass, the more important part, the sacramental service.

Everyone knows, after all, that the two parts of Mass derive from two different sources: the Synagogue service of prayers and readings; and the Last Supper. Very early in Apostolic times the two were brought together and united; but there are isolated examples until quite late of the Supper of the Lord being celebrated separately - apparently my favourite example of liturgically-minded Separated Brethren, the Scottish Episcopalians, sometimes did this in the eighteenth century...

Four Ends of Holy Communion

If the incoming Anglicans (Anglicani ingressuri) bring to the communion of all Catholics a legitimate and worthy Patrimony - as obviously they must, since whatsoever goods, truths and beauties which uphold them and impel them to Catholic unity must be of value to all - then it behooves us to estimate and appreciate these worthy gifts.

I have thought on this with reference to their liturgical forms, as a help to better appreciating the ineffable benefits of Holy Communion.

I find in classical Anglican liturgies, and especially in the already-approved Book of Divine Worship Anglican Use of the Roman Rite, these following extracts relative to the hoped-for blessings brought us by receiving Christ's Body and Blood:

1. From the Prayer of Oblation, in the 1662 tradition misplaced till after communion, but in the Scottish (which I quote from their 1929 B.C.P.) and American tradition returned to after the Prayer of Consecration:

…beseeching thee that all we who shall be partakers of this Holy Communion may worthily receive the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son Jesus Christ, and be fulfilled with thy grace and heavenly benediction, and made one body with him, that he may dwell in us and we in him.

This petition for communicants, while coming from prayers not included in the B.D.W., may - if an Anglican Canon or Eucharistic Prayer be allowed in future - be found acceptable. It is evident that this petition derives from the Supplices te rogamus of the Roman Canon, which the B.D.W. renders as: "...that all we who at this partaking of the altar shall receive the most sacred Body and Blood of thy Son, may be fulfilled with all heavenly benediction and grace." (Regarding mutual indwelling, see what is said of this next below, since the collect for humble access to the holy communion repeats this phrase.)

2. From the Prayer of Humble Access:

… Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, [ that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his most sacred Body, and our souls washed through his most precious Blood, and ] that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen.

(The portion in square brackets is not included in the Book of Divine Worship, but was in most older B.C.P.'s, indeed, is original; only the Scottish B.C.P. adds the words "most sacred", for symmetry with the words "most precious" that derive from I Peter i, 19.)

The petition concerning washing and cleansing of body and soul seems to allude to several passages of Holy Writ such as, relative to washing, "Jesus Christ... washed us from our sins in our own blood" (Apoc. i, 5b, d), yea, "Blessed are they that wash their robes in the blood of the Lamb" (Apoc. xxii, 14a) - "robes" seeming to refer to bodies - and relative to cleansing, "the blood of Christ... cleanse our conscience" - where conscience denotes a faculty of the mind or soul (Hebrews ix, 14; and cf. verse 22, recalling that under the Law, well-nigh everything was cleansed with blood), for "the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin" (I John i, 7b).

The last portion of this prayer is manifestly derived from St John vi, 57 - "He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, abideth in me, and I in him" - as is borne out by the fact that in the original 1548 version of this prayer, the petitions were reversed, and it read "so to eat the Flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his Blood, in these holy Mysteries, that we may continually dwell in him, and he in us".

3. From the words of administration:

The Body /Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, [ which was given / shed for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto ] everlasting life.

(Again, the portion in square brackets, though common, is not that in the B.D.W., which instead has "keep you in" - which seems equivalent.)

These formulæ are self-evidently derived from the Latin forms Corpus / Sanguis Domini nostri Jesu Christi custodiat animam tuam in vitam æternam, as the Roman Rite has it, or ...custodiat te in vitam æternam, as the Dominican Rite reads. Fairly obviously, it was thought good to refer back to the words of consecration by adding "given for thee", "shed for thee", and to add mention of the body to that of the soul, since we are each a complex unity of body and soul in a marvellous composite, the immortal soul being the form of the mortal body.

4. From the Prayer of Thanksgiving after Holy Communion:

Almighty and everliving God, we most heartily thank thee, for that thou dost feed us, in these holy mysteries, with the spiritual food of the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son our Saviour Jesus Christ; and dost assure us thereby of thy favour and goodness towards us; and that we are very members incorporate in the mystical body of thy Son, the blessed company of all faithful people; and are also heirs through hope of thy everlasting kingdom. …

(I give the B.D.W. version.)

From these four extracts, a simple enumeration of the gains prayed for from Holy Communion, our spiritual food and drink, our ghostly nourishment, may be made:

1. to be filled with grace and heavenly blessing, to be assured of God’s favour and goodness towards us;
2. to be made one body with Christ, that He continually dwell in us and we in Him, as true members of His mystical Body;
3. for our sinful bodies to be made clean and our souls washed;
4. for our bodies and souls to be preserved unto everlasting life, to be heirs of the everlasting Kingdom.

These are the glorious ends these Anglican liturgical forms propose for special mention and ardent petition.

The first desire is to be filled with grace and blessing, which is a logical consequence of God's complacent regard for us as well-pleasing to Him and therefore to be favoured by His goodness: thus we see that our reception (we beg it may be worthy) of Holy Communion is both the pledge and guarantee of God loving us with so puissant a love that He makes us to be good - for God does not passively love, but rather His active love makes His beloved good.

The second desire is for entire incorporation into Christ, that He live in us, "we living no longer for ourselves but for Him, Who died and rose again for us", so that "I live no longer, but rather, not I, it is Christ that lives in me": for as He lives being given life by the Father, so all who eat and drink Him live because of Him. May this be lasting, and be everlasting! This union with Christ has the corollary that in Him we are all united as "the blessed company of all faithful people": as the Church, in fact, in heaven above as on earth below (and in the Intermediate State of purification). Communion is so-called for this very reason: it is the sign and the efficacious producer of union with Christ, and, in Him, of union among all Christians in Holy Church united.

The third desire, consequent upon the first two, and subordinate to them - for the Sacrament of the Eucharist is for the living, not for those dead in mortal sin - is for all our sins and stains to be washed away in the Blood of the Lamb, for the flaming Coal of the Flesh of Christ to burn away every imperfection within us. The Eucharist, not principally but coherent with its essential power of uniting us with He Whom we receive, burns away all dross.

The fourth desire is for our bodies and our souls, made temples of God, of His Spirit, and of His Christ, to be preserved unto everlasting life, that we be heirs of the Kingdom. While our bodies will die and decay, we look forward in hope to the General Resurrection, when, rather than rising again only to be thrown into the lake of fire, we pray to rise to the life immortal, our bodies even now having received the medicine of immortality; and the same may be said of the soul, which, though unbreakable and deathless by nature, will either rejoice with the angels, or be tormented with the devils, once this short life is past - the soul, too, must be preserved a Christian, gracefilled soul, for in no other manner may it enter upon everlasting life. If our bodies and our souls, made Christ's in baptism, are not kept safe in everlasting life, they will indubitably perish in eternal death.

Indeed, to end on a positive note, if we abide in Christ as we worthily receive Him, even here and now we are already "in life", a life that, please God, will never cease, but prove everlasting.

(I have not here considered the doctrine of the Exhortations in the Anglican Communion Offices, as these need careful consideration and correction in some points.)

Amare Cælestia

I have deliberately intituled this post with the above phrase, rather than the (in)famous words  terrena despicere, because the whole point of the Postcommunion of this, the second Sunday of Advent, which will be repeated all week, even at Mass of the Immaculate Conception, is that we must "love what is heavenly".  Now, if to do so we must "despise terrene things", well, fine!  As that golden book, the Imitatio Christi, reminds us, For transient and earthly things, men will labour without rest, yet for eternal and celestial reward, we scarce lift a foot from the ground.  O woe to such blindness, of which I am a chief example!

To-day's noble Postcommunion reminds us that Communion is not an end in Itself.  So often at (ordinary) Mass, it seems as if those present only bother to remain till they can get "It", and then chafe to be away - there seems perhaps a lack of recollection about What they have just encountered, and what it ought effect: as I once saw, when a dear old lady in hospital, being brought Holy Communion, turned off her bedside radio, received the Host very rapidly administered, and just as quickly popped the radio back on!

No, being not merely a most intimate entertainment of our Sovereign Guest, Communion has a purpose - to transform us into Christ, for in no other way will we ever leave this earth fitted for heaven.  

After all, let us reverse the sentiment of this prayer: who would wish us to love earthly concerns, and despise heavenly matters?  Satan, of course: that he may have us for his prisoners both on earth and eternally in hell, in torment without end.  No thank you!

It seems fair to say that the Crucified despised earthly things, having not where to lay His head, and ending up on the infamous gibbet; and most certainly He loved heavenly things, and not for Himself alone, but yearned that we too, poor sinners, might have the taste of them.  So as to wean us from the ultimately fruitless pleasures of earth, which would else drag us down to the Pit, He gave us the chiefest delight of heaven: Himself, in form of bread.  Awesome Mystery!  Sacrament unbelievable, were it not for the warrant of His Word!  Just as bread is the staff of life, so His Flesh is in truth what we pray it may subjectively appear to us - as the sum of all delights, the foretaste on earth of the ineffable ecstasy of the Vision of the Trinity above.

Ave in æternum, sanctissima caro Christi, 

mihi ante omnia et super omnia summa dulcedo!

Therefore we pray the Postcommunion:

Repleti cibo spiritualis alimoniæ, supplices te, Domine, deprecamur: ut hujus participatione mysterii, doceas nos terrena despicere et amare cælestia.  Per...

(Replenished by the food of spiritual nourishment, bending low Thee, Lord, we entreat: that by sharing in this Mystery, Thou mayst teach us to despise the earthly and to love the heavenly.  Through...)

Sacraments out of Sync

It's never out of order to receive the Blessed Sacrament.

To-day, arriving just in the nick of time for our Missa cantata, I was able to be of some help to the ladies' choir by reminding them when to sing certain items, as Fr and they had asked me to do.  Our sermon was on the value of the liturgical year, whereby the Church sanctifies time and seeks thereby to sanctify our souls, that we may at length attain to the everlasting feast which God celebrates with His saints and angels in heaven.

One arresting thought: the Church has never established a separate feast for God the Father, since He, unlike the other Two Persons, has not appeared in a visible form; but in another sense all of Advent is devoted to Him, as it demonstrates the truth that "God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that those who believe in Him may not perish, but may have life everlasting."  (St John iii, 16)

(This comment must be understood in the light of the ministry of another Perth priest, whose lengthy true surname is abbreviated to Rowe, and who is a great partisan of devotion, some would say unusual devotion, to God the Father.  While he was operating at St Joachim's, the temporary Pro-Cathedral - as opposed to our own St John's Pro-Cathedral - the joke was, "Don't go to the false Rowe at the false Pro.!")

Another insight that I firmly share, and which I feel has been neglected in the reform of the liturgy to the general detriment: originally the Church celebrated the anniversaries of the triumphs of her martyrs, and later added to these the days of the birth into life eternal of her other saints; and from this came the celebration nearly every day of the feasts of saints, to the end that we may be moved to imitate their examples, venerate them for their fidelity to the Lord, and implore their glorious merits and mediation.  The modern atrophy in the cult of the saints, and the turning of weekday Masses into a most boring exercise in obscure lectio continua, is I feel a misreading of the established basis for daily Mass and acts to diminish what has down the ages proved to be the inspiration and training of Christians in virtue, by presenting to us the saints who have saved their souls by firm adherence to the grace of God.

I remembered one aspect of this after making a spiritual communion (feeling myself unworthy of the sacramental): the postcommunion of this Sunday, the 27th after Pentecost, being taken from the Mass of the 6th after Epiphany which went unused this year owing to an early Easter, is as follows:

Cælestibus, Domine, pasti deliciis: quæsumus; ut* semper eadem, per quæ veraciter vivimus, appetamus. Per...

(Having been fed, Lord, with celestial delicacies, we beseech, that* ever for the same, by which we truly live, we may hunger.  Through...)

with the addition at * of the words beati Philippi Confessoris tui meritis et imitatione (through the merits and imitation of blessed Philip Thy Confessor), it is the postcommunion of St Philip Neri, one of my favourite saints, who had a legendary love and desire for the Most Holy Eucharist.  Since I was not receiving, I read it instead as an act of desire for the Sacrament: Domine, quæsumus: ut semper eadem, per quæ veraciter vivimus, appetamus.  Per... (Lord, we beseech, that ever for these, by which we truly live, we may hunger.  Through...)

After Mass, I went up to the hospital as we do, and there grabbed a coffee, which took ages as there was quite a queue.  Looking at the time (just after 11 am), I turned round and popped into church again, where Fr Rowe was hearing confessions before the late Mass; and I made my humble confession, then said my penance.

Soon after, stopping to buy a salad wrap for lunch, I went for a walk around the CBD, and bought some books: a Latin dictionary; an account of a  Shackleton's Forgotten Men; and Acts and Precepts: The Aristotelian Logical Structure of Thomas Aquinas's Moral Theory, by Kevin Flannery.

An hour passed, and coming back to my car, I noticed the Pro. still unlocked, and resolved to go inside and say my Office, as yet unstarted.  I got through Lauds and Prime and into Terce; Fr Rowe still being present (he'd been busy in the sacristy), I asked him if he would administer Holy Communion to me, which he did: Confiteor... Misereatur... Indulgentiam... Ecce Agnus Dei... Domine, non sum dignus... Corpus Domini nostri... O sacrum convivium... Panem de cælo... Dominus vobiscum... Oremus.  Deus, qui nobis... Benedictio Dei omnipotentis...

It seemed to me, after a time in prayer, that the best thanksgiving would be to finish off the Little Hours; which I did.

On my way home, I walked round Heirisson Island (about 40 minutes), and now it's mid-afternoon; to-night, dinner with friends in honour of my upcoming birthday.

Kneeling on the Tongue, or Standing on the Hand?

I've always thought that, provided no scandal is given, each person should receive Holy Communion in a manner that is both approved (of course) and most conducive to one's own devotion (implying that it be least conducive to one's own anxiety), since clearly the more fervently one communicates the better.

Of course, charity requires that one also consider the good of others when receiving: is what one does more likely to edify others, or to amaze, upset, even disturb them? Here prudence comes in: what would be fine in one context may not be in another. I am speaking here of legitimate modes of reception of course: to stand on one's head to receive would be madness!

Consider: if attending the Byzantine Rite of the Divine Liturgy, there is only one proper manner of reception: standing, one opens one's mouth and tilts one's head back, so the priest can use the liturgical spoon to place in one's mouth a piece of the consecrated Lamb (the leavened Host) which has been placed in the chalice and soaked up some of the Precious Blood, warmed, in this Rite, by the addition of hot water to the chalice - to signify that the Blood is truly living and Spirit-filled. To try to kneel down would be as inappropriate as to put one's hands out in this case.

So, for example, if (in the Ordinary Form of the Roman Rite) one were very nervous that one might spill the chalice - if one's hands were unsteady, say - then one would refrain from receiving from it when it is offered: this is commonsensical. Or, if one were in a place where kneeling down for communion would cause real scandal, since it is never done there, and people would think one peculiar - if not Pharisaical or even schismatical - for doing so, one would be advised to refrain from doing so, despite it being still allowable: obviously, one's prudential judgement would come into play in this case. Something similar obtains in the obvious cases of ill-health, frailty, etc., when one cannot kneel down (as is the norm in the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite) - then one receives standing, as everyone accepts.

But to put it all into perspective, I like to refer to the two main options at Mass as:

Kneeling on the Tongue,
or
Standing on the Hand

- try these today!

Ave in Æternum

Well, I've survived my first Novus Ordo Sunday Mass for six months or so!

(I say Sunday Mass, because weekday Masses are much more bearable; since being able to attend the Latin Mass in Perth, I've averaged about 2/3 extraordinary form, and 1/3 ordinary, making it to Mass about 5 days a week.  But Sundays have been all Trad. – except once while travelling on holiday, when I couldn't get to Mass at all, and once when my parents visited and Mum wanted to go to the local parish.)

Lest I appear a pharisaical grouch, I must say I appreciate that the beauty of holiness is substantially present at all Masses, insofar as Christ himself is present.  It is just that suburban mediocrity does tend to sadden one when it makes what should be so thrilling and sublime appear stilted and uncomprehended.  

Tonight's well-meant music got me down.  Instead of lovely Advent hymns and some reasonable Mass setting, we had very generic musak, overly hyped up with a plethora of instruments, and a strangely folksy Mass setting that I noticed few sang along with.  Gresham's Law applies to Church music as well as to money: the bad drives out the good.  That said, the sermon was quite good for the priest – known to me – who does try his best; he even talked in praise of the new encyclical Spe salvi.  Little things, like poor reading, annoying wreath-lighting, etc. get me down, but at least now I am much more philosophical about it and no longer get so angry – going to the Traditional Mass has given me a safe anchorage, so that I don't get steamed up about liturgy as much any more.

But of course the sacred mysteries were truly confected, so only in some accidents was the Holy Mass less than entirely enthralling.  Indeed, one thing I very much like in the ordinary form of Mass is the chance – be shocked, ye traditionalists! – to receive Our Lord under both species.   Unfortunately, as a reaction to irreverences connected with the proffering of the chalice to communicants, many Latin Mass types react as if to drink therefrom were somehow sinful, which is the sort of nonsense that rightly offends other Catholics.  

FWIW, I have been given communion from the chalice in the Dominican Rite: I was serving a private Mass, and greatly to my surprise, after being fed with the Bread of Life, the priest turned back to the altar only to come to me again, bearing this time the chalice, which he administered to me that I might receive Christ's Holy Blood.  Afterwards, I asked him about this, and he replied that, though he mainly said the old Mass, he knew that the giving of communion under both kinds was orthodox and called for by Vatican II, and so had proceeded to do so.  Some Traddies might consider it mortally sinful so to do, but I think I disagree.

Anyhow, it was good to return to the pew, kneel and make the sign of the cross, saying the words from the Dominican Rite: Corpus et Sanguis Domini nostri Jesu Christi custodiant me in vitam æternam.  To this, as an aspiration, I always add (from the Sarum Rite, as Bishop Jarrett once mentioned it to me as his sometime practice; he was once my parish priest):

Ave, ave, ave in æternum, sanctissima, sanctissima, sanctissima Caro Christi, mihi ante omnia et super omnia summa, summa, summa dulcedo.

Ave in æternum, sanctissime Sanguis Christ, mihi ante omnia et super omnia summa dulcedo.

(My threefold repetitions as in the first sentence are for devotion's sake.)

Hail for ever most holy Flesh of Christ, to me before all things and above all things the sum of all delights!  Hail for ever, most holy Blood of Christ, to me before all things and above all things the sum of all delights!

Here's a fine setting of the first Ave in æternum by Nicholas Wilton.

Would that love for Christ would ever grow stronger, love for this world grow ever lesser.  In hope we are saved (Rom. viii, 24); now I must fight the good fight, run the great race, finish the course, keep the faith (cf. II Tim. iv, 7), that I may gain the immarcescible crown (I Pet. v, 4).