God bless the Trappists

God bless the Trappists of the Abbey of Our Lady of Scourmont – better known as the producers of that most holy refreshment, Chimay beer.

I was careful, ere I partook, to pray the prayer for the blessing of beer, that this beverage may aid me "in body and in soul"; here is the original Latin (which I adapt for lay use):


V/. Adjutorium nostrum in nomine Domini.
R/. Qui fecit cælum et terram.
V/. Dominus vobiscum.
R/. Et cum spiritu tuo.


Oremus.


Benedic, Domine, creaturam istam cerevisiæ, quam ex adipe frumenti producere dignatus es: ut sit remedium salutare humano generi, et præsta per invocationem nominis tui sancti; ut, quicumque ex ea biberint, sanitatem corpus et animæ tutelam percipiant. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. R/. Amen.

Given the great time I had on the recent Christus Rex Pilgrimage, I have stored up the courage to attempt the Paris to Chartres Pilgimage next year, and have applied for the necessary time off work in order to do so.

How good it is that that pilgrimage is from Notre-Dame de Paris to Notre-Dame de Chartres; how good it is to have at hand the blessings of Notre-Dame de Scourmont.  Ut in omnibus glorificetur Deus!

P.S.  The good monks make cheese as well as beer; this inspired me to cut some brie to nibble with my drink, ne potus noceat.

Raise your glasses

...to Andrew and Melissa, friends and fellow-pilgrims I met at WYD just over a year ago: though I'd lost contact with them for ages, by pure coincidence, I received a message from Andrew just before dinner, and thus just learnt that these two Americans were married (in the Traditional Rite) on the 2nd of May this year, and now make their home together in Arizona. Many congratulations! May Christ and His Mother, who graced the wedding at Cana, bless them also.

In belated honour of their nuptials, I had a glass of Chimay Blue with my goulash for dinner: very nice.

Here, unlike in roastingly hot Arizona, the weather remains cold and very wet - you'd think it had rained on St Swithun's day (the 15th of July), and indeed it did (though July wasn't very wet), for the rain has just kept on coming all August, which is our rainiest month: 101 mm so far, 18 days of rain out of 24. Just this evening after work I drove home over the bridges that link Launceston over her rivers, and both the North and South Esks were in flood (as are other northern rivers): the water has crept up and up, even onto the riverside boardwalks around King's Park, as the Tamar rises higher. The Cataract Gorge still foams (literally) with the roiling waters descending its rapids...

******

The saints in heaven all rejoice together in the happiness of one communion with the Lord and with each other in Him: so, as St Swithun would say, happy St Bartholomew's day for this feast of an admired Apostle:

Omnipotens sempiterne Deus, qui hujus diei venerandam sanctamque lætitiam in beati Apostoli tui Bartholomæi festivitate tribuisti: da Ecclesiæ tuæ, quæsumus; et amare quod credidit, et prædicare quod docuit. Per...

(Almighty everlasting God, Who hast granted a venerable and holy joy to this day in the festival of Thy blessed Apostle Bartholomew: give unto Thy Church, we beseech, both to love what he believed, and to preach what he taught. Through...)

Misericordias Domini

On our way into town for Mass this afternoon (giving him a lift in my car again), I had Mike read None, which involved the really fatiguingly long Psalm 88, which all too-aptly begins Misericordias Domini in æternum cantabo...

After he finished, I teased him about what it says in the Imitatio about being "So drowsy at sacred vigils, so alert for idle gossip" or somesuch - but no sooner was I in church for the liturgy than I was just about prostrated with tiredness, and barely got through Low Mass, kneeling bowed forward, hanging over the pew in front!  Rather than fight to keep awake for the ensuing Holy Hour with Stations of the Infant Jesus (a Redemptorist devotion), I staggered back to the car, put the seat back and tried to rest - the hour went by very fast, and though I returned to the Pro. I was too late even for Benediction; at least I read Vespers.

We then all went for dinner at Fr's place, which was again a grand affair - Belgian beer (Orval), plus good fish and chips.  Before the food materialized, we had a chance to check out some curious books on the shelves or otherwise in the house, such as Ellard's The Mass of the Future (1948), and a Premonstratensian Breviary (with its  interesting peculiar texts at Prime and Compline)...

Mass, BTW, had been of Our Lady of Guadalupe - taken wholly from the Common of Marian Feasts, except for the Gospel of the Annunciation.  (Last year, I posted about Our Lady of Guadalupe, her Traditional Proper Mass, and her rather unfortunate modern Collect.)  Unusually, Fr Rowe preached a sermon - just a short one.  To commemorate this day (which in the Breviary is a feria) I have just put on a favourite CD: Chanticleer singing Matins for the Virgin of Guadalupe, by Ignacio de Jerusalem (1764).  Apparently in New Spain, it was all the rage to attend, not opera, but Matins... how nice to imagine the Viceroy at the Cathedral in Mexico City tapping his foot to the tunes as the service progressed.  If you like Baroque sacred music, well, the CD is Teldec 0630-19340-2.

This CD includes the three following historical lessons narrating the apparition of Our Lady of Guadalupe, apparently from her proper Office:

Mexici, in colle Tepeyancensi, anno millesimo quingentesimo trigesimo primo Dei para Virgo Maria Ioanni Didaco neophyto, uti pie traditur, sese videndam præbuit, eique ad antisititem Joannem de Zumárraga mandatum dedit, quod et instanter iteravit, de æde sibmet inibi construenda.

Episcopus vero signum expetiit.  Mox neophytum patruo morituro sacramenta longinquius ab apparitionis loco quærentem, tertio visu dignatur alma Mater, de patrui sanitate serenat, rosasque extra tempus obortas, in ejus pallio compositas, ad episcopum deferri jubet.

Cujus in conspectu rosis effusus, Mariæ imago, ipsi pallio impressa, uti traditur, mirum in modum præsentibus apparuit.  Quæ in sacello episcopali primum asservata, dein ad exstructam ædem in colle Tepeyacensi translata, denique in magnifico templo excepta est, quo turmatim plebes Mexicanæ magis magisque convenire cœperunt, venerationis gratia et frequentiæ miraculorum.

All Hallows' Eve

While that detestable modern aberration of inciting children to play the vulgar imitative pseudo-American pastime of "trick or treat" seems lamentably to be on the increase even here, while Christians live heedless of God and His saints, at least the Pro. proved a sure refuge from madness: we had a proper Low Mass (with two servers) of the Vigil of All Saints, with second collect of the Holy Ghost and third for the Pope, at 5.30pm.

Having been busy earlier, I at last had the chance to start the day's Office about 20 minutes before Mass, and got up to the 1st lesson of Matins by the end of the prayers at the altarfoot.  Now, I always attend to the Mass texts from the Introit to the Offertory antiphon, but I consider (though as I do keep an ear to it that I may in a manner join myself in sentiment thereto) the preparatory prayers of Mass as more properly for the priest and his ministers, especially as at High Mass they are for them alone, since the choir sings during them and the people ought surely to hearken unto and think upon the Introit, which is after all in nearly all cases from Holy Writ.  By a similar argument, I consider myself at liberty to pray how I may at the Offertory, so I used that short space to finish off Matins; and then to read over the secret before uniting myself to the words and themes of the Canon, and to make my poor adoration of God-made-flesh at the Elevation.  (More on how I try and pray the Canon later...)

Similarly, of course I attend to the Lord's Prayer, but say a prayer of my own preference (the Mozarabic Embolism) at the Libera nos, which is the secret prayer of the priest; likewise, having attended to and responded to the ecphonesis and Pax Domini, I struck my breast at the Agnus Dei and then repeated to myself the Domine Jesu Christe Fili Dei vivi and Perceptio Corporis tui, before advancing with the vanguard of the congregation to the altar rails, there to join in the servers' Confiteor &c., there to receive Our Lord, and praying Ave in æternum sanctissima Caro Christi, mihi ante omnia et super omnia summa dulcedo.

Immediately upon communicating I took up the Breviary again to read Lauds in thanksgiving, interrupting this for the Communion antiphon through to the end of the Last Gospel and the responses to the Leonine Prayers, plus the Angelus then rung (it being six of the clock): but then (mindful of the great length of Office still left) I persevered in finishing off Lauds, then Prime, Terce, Sext and None; which took another 20-odd minutes.  (Because of daylight saving, it was still quite sunny outside, so I postponed Vespers till later - I'll say it and Compline soon.  Lately I've been finding it very hard to fit praying the Office into my day, so I had to force my slothful will to accept the ascesis of it as it were in a penitential manner, kneeling.)

We then sorted out outside what to do for dinner: Fr invited Michael, Michael, Chris and I round for fish and chips, which went down very well with some Belgian beer I contributed - Hoegaarden Forbidden Fruit (to which Fr Rowe gave the blessing of beer) and some Tripel Moine.  

To get some inspiration, Fr let me read out what Dom Alban Butler had to say about All Saints' Day: such as that God created the world and directs it in view of the salvation of His saints, whose justification is greater miracle than the Creation; that this day, in memory of the continual feast our Lord celebrates with all the saved in heaven, we may make amends for our slackness in not properly venerating God's hallowed chosen ones on their feasts throughout the year; and that there is no middle way between becoming a saint by the royal road of the Holy Cross and winning heaven, or losing heaven by living after the pattern of the wicked, but that we must essay to break our proud and vain habits of pride, anger, and all vices.  

(As I read recently in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, n. 2031, to offer up the holocaust of ourselves by living the moral life is to worship God in the continual liturgy of a living, spiritual sacrifice: "The moral life is spiritual worship. We 'present [our] bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God,' (Rom. xii, 1) within the Body of Christ that we form and in communion with the offering of his Eucharist.")

A good evening was had by all... and we look forward to All Saints to-morrow, when Fr will celebrate two Low Masses (at 8am and 9.15am), plus a sung Mass at 11am.

Oh, and most unfortunately this day is so-called Reformation Day; to which I say, how appropriate then that men allude to Hell, its votaries and denizens in all antics of morbid costume and behaviour on this Hallowe'en; but let us raise our minds to Heaven for the great feast of All-Hallowmas, and then pray for all the Holy Souls in Purgatory on All Souls' Day, on Monday.

Beer and Soup on Ember Wednesday

I'm enjoying, more or less, a rather strong beer (8.1%) as I type, and am about to go in search of nibbles to have with it... a Tripel Karmeliet, Belgian of course, brewed with not just water, hops, yeast and (barley) malt, but, oats and wheat as well. [I scrounged and found some almonds.]

So as to keep in the spirit (Spirit?) of this Ember Wednesday in Whitsuntide, I prayed Lauds before work, and after work, in between getting the car washed, doing some shopping, having afternoon tea while reading the paper, etc., I managed to say the Little Hours. Soon I will attempt Vespers. I know Matins is thus bizarrely out of order, but realistically thought it best to say what parts I had the time for when I could, rather than start Matins and then have to finish it much much later on, without any other Hours said at all.

Having got home, and had some leftovers for dinner (a simple pearl barley soup, with some vegetables for flavour), I then got on with making some more soup of a tasty sort, according to a half-remembered and very primitive receipt, as follows:

Leek and Ham Hock Soup

Two leeks, chopped
Two ham hocks, whole
Two onions, chopped
Half a dozen or more stalks celery with leaves, chopped
Two potatoes, chopped [these were left over from last night!]
Black peppercorns to taste [maybe a teaspoon or more]

Method:

1. Put all ingredients in large pot(s) with water to cover, bring to boil, simmer until meat falls from bones.
2. Remove bones, remove meat and chop up if necessary, return all meat to pot.
3. Cool and skim off fat if necessary.
4. Serve.

I have bought some button mushrooms, and am undecided as to whether or not to add some or all to the soup as a garnish toward the end of the cooking.

[Update: I left out the mushrooms, but the soup tastes good! I may have been a bit heavy handed with the peppercorns though...]

Ideas, advice, tips, contributions, revulsion?

Blessing of Beer

From the Roman Ritual, in translation:

V/. Our help is in the name of the Lord.
R/. Who made heaven and earth.
V/. The Lord be with you.
R/. And with thy spirit.

Let us pray.

Lord, bless + this creature, beer, which by your kindness and power has been produced from kernels of grain, and let it be a healthful drink for mankind. Grant that whoever drinks it with thanksgiving to your holy name may find it a help in body and in soul; through Christ our Lord. R/. Amen.

(The beer is then sprinkled with holy water.)

I have essayed to adapt this prayer for lay use, by changing "The Lord be with you..." to "O Lord hear my prayer. / And let my cry come unto thee", and omitting the sign of the cross over the beer, but sprinkling it still with some holy water I have at hand - producing a sanctified Hoegaarden Witbier, in this case...

Cookery and Drink-ery

A sample of what I've whipped up and partaken of:

1. Yestereven: some stew - and a bottle of Chimay White - for Rob my guest, Steve and myself, before a screening of my DVD of "Kundun" (very apposite, no?); the stew, my own concoction, contained beef mince, bacon, ham, and turkey leg meat (would have been better with some stewing steak and chorizos, but I was making do with leftovers), with chickpeas and butter beans, in tomato puree, with onions, garlic, salt, pepper, paprika, olive oil, chicken stock (there being no beef stock to hand) and some extra seasoning as for a goulash - all served on mashed potatoes. (I wished I'd bought some sour cream.) For dessert, pears cooked in red wine with sugar, cinnamon and cloves, served with custard. (This desert is better with the pears standing upright, robed in Chantilly cream - cream whipped with castor sugar and vanilla - in which case it is called Pears Cardinal.) A cup of tea washed it all down nicely.

2. Tonight, home alone, a "scratch tea", after my walk: bottle of Chimay Blue (why not treat myself?), with leftover stew, some cashews to nibble on, and the last of the custard. Not bad at all.

Oculi mei Sunday, Mihi autem Monday

I've just finished off my solitary portion of the fish curry I cooked up; who knows where the housemates have got to!

Earlier this evening I served Fr Rowe's Low Mass for the Feast of St Matthias. It was hot again [over 35° C], and so I was boiling in my cassock and surplice, but to serve at God's altar and see the consecration so close by is an inestimable honour and delight. I had offered to sing the Proper so we could have a Missa Cantata, as he often likes for feasts when Mass is in the evening, but he was tired from his trip to Bunbury yesterday arvo and today on Mass supply, and has my friend Justin's mum still to visit in hospital: oremus pro ea.

Since I'm back to saying and hopefully praying the modern Office, it was a startlement to have Mass of the Apostle, since I won't meet him in the Liturgy of the Hours till the 14th of May; also, his feast only falls on this day (instead of the 24th) in a bissextile or leap year.

I like how the classical Roman Liturgy fêtes the apostles, with Psalm 138:17 - Mihi autem nimis honorati sunt amici tui Deus: nimis confortatus est principatus eorum ("Yet to me exceedingly honourable are made Thy friends, O God: exceedingly strengthened is their princedom") - appointed for the Introit and Gradual, Psalm 44:17f - Constitues eos principes super omnem terram... ("Thou shalt constitute them princes over all the earth...") - for the Offertory, and St Matthew xix, 28 - Vos, qui secuti estis me, sedebitis super sedes, judicantes duodecim tribus Israël ("Ye who have followed Me shall be seated upon seats, judging the twelve tribes of Israel")- for the Communion. It emphasises how the Apostles are constituted rulers over all the lands, as princes in Christ's new and eternal Kingdom; and while we customarily style SS Peter and Paul as Princes of the Apostles, even the replacement Twelfth, St Matthias, in stead of evil Judas, ranks with them as royalty.


(Excuse me while I pour a beer; I've just laid in a small supply of Orval Trappist ale, complete with the appropriate glass... Ad sanctum Matthiam! Yes, this one has the distinctive old socks smell...)


[I trust the monks will excuse me copying a picture not dissimilar to the one in front of me! After all, I am buying their holy product, doing my bit for the upkeep of monasticism in Holy Church.]


I went over the texts of the Mass while kneeling in the pew before togging up, since it is better to serve unencumbered by a book, and was struck by the curious phraseology of the Collect:

Deus, qui beatum Matthiam Apostolorum tuorum collegio sociasti: tribue, quæsumus; ut ejus interventione, tuæ circa nos pietatis semper viscera sentiamus. Per...

This must surely literally be rendered as - ! -

O God, Who didst join blessed Matthias to the college of Thine Apostles: grant, we beseech, that by his intervention, we may ever feel about us the bowels of Thy piety. Through...

While I rather like archaic turns of phrase, as should be obvious (I resolved from the start of this blog to post just what I pleased, even if it appear odd: if the cap fits, wear it), still I would usually baulk at saying something such as "I conjure thee by the bowels of Christ's compassion"!

As for Oculi... (I just love calling the Sundays by their Introits; a lovely medieval habit still kept up by our dear misguided brethren the Lutherans!) Yesterday, Fr Rowe, taking as his foundation the Gospel of the Sunday (St Luke xi, 14-28), preached on the attacks of the devils, and how the saints - as the Cure of Ars, and Padre Pio - were assaulted by them, and yet rather rejoiced in this, for it proved that they were not among those who, enthralled still by the world and the flesh, are not troubled by Satan, since he wickedly considers them bound over to him already. We must oppose the Satanic Non serviam with Servio (as appropriately is the motto of the adjacent Royal Perth Hospital), yea, with Our Lady's enduring Fiat: Fiat voluntas tua, Deus meus. The Epistle too (Ephesians v, 1-9) stands as a stark warning against giving in to the false standards of the present age, as to bad behaviour.

I did enjoy singing the Propers, even though they were hard, even after we'd practiced, and as regards their inspired texts especially perhaps worth noting is the Communion (Ps 83:4-5) - Passer invenit - besides the Tract (Psalm 122:1-3) and indeed all the rest of the service. I relish sung Mass, and hate to miss it on Sundays. Best of all, Fr Rowe, always waiting in the tribunal of penance before Mass, is a kindly confessor, and received my humble admission of guilt.

Te Deum laudamus

Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo da gloriam!

My laptop's working again, and the Internet connexion at home is on, so at last I can blog in comfort.

To celebrate, I've just had a glass of Lindemans Pecheresse, a lambic beer, flavoured with peaches, from the parts of Belgium round Brussels: just what the doctor ordered. And it's mid-afternoon here in Perth, and I don't even need the airconditioner on - what could be better than this?