The Ineffectiveness of Preaching

Reading a little about the Servant of God Cardinal Merry del Val, I was led on to some details about the pontificate of Benedict XV ("he was a saint, but he didn't know it", as the wry Roman joke runs – or, as it says in full, "Pius X was a saint, and he knew it; Benedict XV was a saint, but didn't know it; Pius XI wasn't a saint, and he knew it; Pius XII wasn't a saint, but he didn't know it!" - not that I don't dispute the last verdict).

All this introduced me to the extraordinary encyclical Humani Generis Redemptionem of 1917, which was concerned with the ineffectiveness of preaching!  Yes, even ninety-five years ago, the Pope candidly declared that, despite the great numbers of preachers, their preaching was largely in vain, given the evils daily increasing everywhere, whereas the Apostles by their preaching had converted the Roman Empire and beyond: hence the preaching of the latter was efficacious, rather than useless as so much modern preaching is.

Here then, Venerable Brethren, is a burden added to the other misfortunes of these times, with which, more than any one else, We are tried. For if We look around us and count those who are engaged in preaching the Word of God, We shall find them more numerous perhaps than they have ever been before. If on the other hand We examine the state of public and private morals, the constitutions and laws of nations, We shall find that there is a general disregard and forgetfulness of the supernatural, a gradual falling away from the strict standard of Christian virtue, and that men are slipping back more and more into the shameful practices of paganism.

The causes of these evils are varied and manifold: no one, however, will gainsay the deplorable fact that the ministers of the Word do not apply thereto an adequate remedy. Has the Word of God then ceased to be what it was described by the Apostle, living and effectual and more piercing than any two-edged sword? Has long-continued use blunted the edge of that sword? If that weapon does not everywhere produce its effect, the blame certainly must be laid on those ministers of the Gospel who do not handle it as they should. For no one can maintain that the Apostles were living in better times than ours, that they found minds more readily disposed towards the Gospel or that they met with less opposition to the law of God.

— Benedict XV, Humani Generis Redemptionem, 2-3.

I recommend reading the whole short encyclical; but the serious declarations he makes about the solemn duty of bishops to permit only those possessing the gratia prædicationis to preach, and the sinfulness of neglecting this, certainly deserve to be given wholehearted assent. True preaching must advance the kingdom of God, by bearing fruit in souls unto everlasting life. Spreading error, or even merely entertaining without converting the listeners, is worse than useless. Certainly Benedict XV did not mince words about true and false preaching, and the dreadful decline engendered by the latter. Homilies and sermons should be powerful instruments, not pointless exercises in futility. "He who has ears to hear, let him hear."

Of Sermons and Doxologies

I've been privileged to meet up with a friend, a young Dominican priest, Fr Paul, who has been here this week-end in order to say Mass for the Carmelite nuns; in response to a question of mine (I having noted this at each of his Masses, Friday, Saturday and Sunday), he confirmed that he concludes all his sermons with a doxology, that is, an ascription of praise to God (very good that: the Fathers did so), having heeded the suggestion of Fr Joseph, another Dominican, to do so.

He tells me that it influences him to turn his sermons toward the goal of eternal life and heaven: if so, Amen!  What else should a sermon turn toward?  I recall Fr Rowe telling me that he basically preached but one theme, and that is to win through to eternal life; I think yet another Friar Preacher, Fr Bernard, said the same; and if only all priests had such a right orientation toward the one thing necessary, we might be spared much foolish nonsense.  "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness..." – so may we ever give glory to the Trinity!

Just now, while searching for something else, I came across the ending of a homily of St John Chrysostom (Homily 6 on Hebrews) that indeed ends aright:

For if when we go out into a plain, and there see the soldiers' tents fixed with curtains, and the spears, and helmets, and bosses of the bucklers glittering, we are lifted up with wonder; but if we also chance to see the king himself running in the midst or even riding with golden armor, we think we have everything; what do you think [it will be] when you see the everlasting tabernacles of the saints pitched in heaven? – for it is said, They shall receive you into their everlasting tabernacles (Luke 16:9) – when you see each one of them beaming with light above the rays of the sun, not from brass and steel, but from that glory whose gleamings the eye of man cannot look upon? And this indeed with respect to the men. But what, if one were to speak of the thousands of Angels, of Archangels, of Cherubim, of Seraphim, of thrones, of dominions, of principalities, of powers, whose beauty is inimitable, passing all understanding?

But how far shall I go in pursuing what cannot be overtaken? For eye has not seen, it is said, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for them that love Him. (1 Corinthians 2:9) Therefore nothing is more pitiable than those who miss, nor anything more blessed than those who attain. Let us then be of the blessed, that we may attain to the everlasting good things that are in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Ghost be glory, might, honor, now and for ever and world without end. Amen.

Sacred Somniloquence and Sacred Somniloquy

Some amusing extracts from Robert Macnish's The Philosophy of Sleep (Glasgow: W.R. McPhun, 1834, 2nd ed.), pages 168f. and 182:

A case is related of an English clergyman who used to get up in the night, light his candle, write sermons, correct them with interlineations, and retire to bed again; being all the time asleep. The Archbishop of Bourdeaux mentions a similar case of a student, who got up to compose a sermon while asleep, wrote it correctly, read it over from one end to the other, or at least appeared to read it, made corrections on it, scratched out lines, and substituted others, put in its place a word which had been omitted, composed music, wrote it accurately down, and performed other things equally surprising. 

…

From what has been said of somnambulism, the reader will be prepared for phenomena equally curious as regards sleep-talking. Persons have been known, for instance, who delivered sermons and prayers during sleep; among others, Dr. Haycock, Professor of Medicine in Oxford. He would give out a text in his sleep, and deliver a good sermon upon it; nor could all the pinching and pulling of his friends prevent him. 

I am sure my friends the Dormitionists strive to out-do these performances.  I wonder if some of my Dominican friends do the same?

Should there be a Sermon at Mass?

Whether there should be a sermon at Mass?

1. It would seem that there ought not be a sermon at Mass.  For at Mass the most holy Eucharist is consecrated, offered and received, as both Sacrament and Sacrifice; yet a sermon appertaineth neither to a sacrament, which worketh ex opere operato, nor to a sacrifice, which requireth but a priest to offer it and a victim to be offered.  Therefore there ought not be a sermon at Mass.

2. Furthermore, Our Lord Himself is the Eternal Word made incarnate, and it would seem superfluous and blasphemous to supplement the Sacrament and Sacrifice of the Word with a merely human word (sermo). 

3. Again, Our Lord at His last supper first consecrated the Eucharist and administered it to His disciples, and then gave His discourse by example and word afterward (cf. S. John xiii-xvii), “when supper was done” (S. John xiii, 2), and for the most part after saying, Rise, let us go hence (S. John xiv, 31), which doth answer to the dismissal at Mass, Ite missa est.  Therefore the sermon should only be preached after Communion, or, better still and more evangelically, after all of Mass is ended, and, moreover, after the priest has first washed the feet of all present, and, still further, only once a year on Maundy Thursday, and only in the Upper Room in Jerusalem, following this mandate of Our Lord in all particulars.

4. Moreover, at Mass the dispositive instruction is given in the first part, when the very words of the inspired Scriptures are read, God’s own revelation to His people: whether the Old Testament is read or not as a preface to what follows, first some writing of the Apostles or their Acts is read, and finally the Gospel as the pinnacle, being the very teaching of the Lord Himself.  It would therefore be wicked presumption for the priest to think to preach next, as if he were more important and his doctrine more clear than that of Christ, just as some Friars Minor think only to speak of Christ in passing ere they talk long of St Francis.  Rather, therefore, if any sermon be given, it ought be before all the readings, since the celebrant is neither the Christ, nor an Apostle, nor a Prophet, but only a mere man such as were the Gentiles before they received any revelation from God at all.  By extension, the sermon ought not be at Mass, but even before Mass.

To the contrary, Through many tribulations we must enter into the kingdom of God, as the Apostle says (Acts xiv, 21).

I respond, saying: many times the words of the preacher trouble his hearers, and it is in this manner that we pass through many tribulations before we enter upon the heavenly mysteries, which in this mortal life are the greatest foretaste and concealed presence of the kingdom of God.  Most wisely, then, Holy Church doth permit sermons to be preached.  Yet even in her practice it may be seen that she doth not favour them without limit or end.  It was attested by Sozomen in the fifth century that no one preacheth in Rome, let alone priests, and we should always look to the example of the Holy Roman Church, Mother of all the churches.  Moreover, of old only bishops were permitted to preach, which could not be unless preaching were not an unmitigated blessing.  St Augustine, when as yet but a priest, only preached because his bishop knew not Latin sufficiently to try the patience of his people.

1.  In reply to the first objection, while neither a sacrament nor a sacrifice necessarily requireth a sermon, neither absolutely excludeth being accompanied by one, if the sermon render those present more in need of the sacrament and more like unto innocent victims about to be slain.  Indeed, Our Lord came not to minister to the healthy but to the sick, and so it is providential that we be rendered sick of hearing the preacher’s words ere we receive the healing remedy in the sacrament; just as for those fainting by reason of lack of food, after hearing Our Lord’s sermon, He thereupon fed them miraculously, which was a type of the Eucharist.  Furthermore, we are told to offer ourselves up as a living sacrifice (Rom. xii, 1), as Christ offered Himself as a sweet savour and oblation unto God (Eph. v, 2), and to have the priest preach at one is to be made to feel a victim, which helps one unite oneself to the sacrifice about to be consummated.  This the Apostle exemplified when he preached so long that Eutychus fell out of the window and died (Acts xx, 9), before the breaking of bread (verse 10).  (For Eutychus is patron of those who hear sermons, as all men know.)

2.  To increase our desire to receive the Word Which alone can save us, we are made to wait for this by listening in the meantime to the word (sermo) of men, just as the despairing pagans of old groaned for thousands of years, listening to the inane babble of their pretended oracles and seers, before finally hearing of the Revelation of God in Christ; and this sufficeth to meet the second objection.

3.  The third objection is confuted as follows: the Last Supper occurred before the Crucifixion, whereas all Masses occur after the Crucifixion; hence Our Lord preached after Communion but before His Sacrifice on Calvary, whereas by symmetry a sermon at Mass would therefore be given after the Consecration but before the Communion.  Nonetheless, as this is the practice of the dissident Armenians (for their Patriarch preached at that part of the liturgy when he visited Melbourne), the Church Catholic and universal doth do otherwise, just as she rejecteth their peculiar use of wine unmixed with water.  Also, if the priest preached after Mass, no one would remain to hear him, which would frustrate the purpose of preaching as outlined in the reply to the first objection.

4.  As to the fourth objection, what was said at the end of the reply to the third objection doth also hold: for if the priest preached before Mass, no one would bother to come early, even if ever they did ordinarily.  This sufficeth to prove what was said in the response above.

— from the Summa Triviæ.

No Love for Heaven

"If in [or for] this life only we have hoped in Christ,
we are of all men most miserable." 

— I Cor. xv, 19.

The worst feature of dying Western Christianity – amongst Catholics too, alas – is that we have no hope, no appetite for heaven.  All we prate about are vague do-good platitudes.  Yet St Paul explicitly warns us, we are of all most to be pitied – to be esteemed, in fact, as miserable and wretched – if we trust in Christ for and in this present life only.

Augustine says (De Verbis Domini, Sermone 100,2): “The East,” that is Christ, “calleth thee, and thou turnest to the West,” namely mortal and fallible man.  

— St Thomas Aquinas, S.T.,IIaIIæ,189,10, resp.

It never ceases to amaze me how we turn from Christ and embrace the world.  (Well, I backslide as much as any man, but I also confess my sins and turn back to the Lord.)  Christ's glorious Ascension being the feast celebrated, you'd think we might have preaching about the glorious hope we have in Him, our Head, having gone ahead of us, that where He is, we might soon follow.  But no, all we creatures care for is that He is with us still – true enough, but not enough.  

It is a great thing, a very great thing, that Christ is with us in the Sacraments, that He is active in us, that when we do good to the least and lowliest, we do good to Him in His poor.  But if we have no sure hope for heaven, we have lost our orientation to ta Eschata, the Last Things, and "are of all men most miserable".

Since I left Fr Rowe's pastoral care in Perth, W.A., I don't think I've heard a sermon about heaven and our necessary focus on living lives aiming at getting there!  You'd think Christianity was just about bourgeois niceness, going on too much of what passes for preaching.  No wonder no one wants to be a Christian anymore.

I was suddenly struck, when about to go up to communicate at Mass, how the evident focus of the words of the Liturgy – both the Ordinary and the Proper – seemed to have been neglected so foolishly and dangerously in the preaching I heard.

Christianity does seem a religion fit only for wimps and old women, when it is portrayed, especially by its would-be leaders, both lay and clerical, as just a way of "being nice".  We shy away from suggesting some salutary "salvation anxiety", or indeed any focus on salvation at all!

Do people presume we will all just "go to heaven" and be saved by a God too nice to do otherwise (as the Scriptures don't say)?  I fear that, given the half-joking, half-ashamed words of too many when people die, to the effect that "Uncle Jack's drinking beer with God in heaven" or somesuch nonsense, that people really have no clear idea of nor belief in the immortality of the soul, let alone the future resurrection.

That is why I fear that preaching about the Ascension without mentioning our hope for heaven is completely topsy-turvy.

Precisely what we need is a strong lecture about heaven, and its reality, and the truth that all our hope for heaven is in Our Lord, Who now reigns there in His Sacred Humanity, so that the substance of our humanity is now already at God's Right.  In this is our hope!

Universalism is a type of indifferentism – and declines into disbelief into any future state.  This process has already taken place, I see it in fellow Christians.  As that appalling ditty has it, "Not in some heaven light-years away..."

Preaching ought not confirm us just in little ideas we already have, but open our eyes to what we have not considered, and strengthen our wavering belief in doctrines we don't grasp.  We need sermons about heaven, and striving for heaven – not just about living nice safe lives on earth.

Turning religion into an excuse for "being nice" alone – now that's real sin, howsoever it is dressed up.  It vitiates religion of what is its real aim – to come nigh unto God, firstly in this world, then forever in the next.  And it only attracts the rightful and well-deserved derision of non-believers.

"If in [or for] this life only we have hoped in Christ,
we are of all men most miserable."

Three Sermons

Fr Greg, the visiting Dominican at our local Carmel, has continued his masterly sermon series.  I cannot do them justice in extenso, but can summarize the burthen of his words.  

At the Easter Vigil, he impressed upon us what oft we neglect to note in the Gospel account: that the myrrhbearing women at the Tomb were amazed and terrified, not just by the Angel, but by the news of the Resurrection of Christ - for Easter, while joyous, should also amaze and alarm us.  After all, now that One has risen from the dead, our lives take on a totally different meaning: with eternal life now in prospect, we must needs reorder our affairs to take cognizance of this fact, and this will be no simple or painless task (as the lives of the Apostles, Martyrs, and all Christian Saints illustrates).  

On Easter morning, Fr's homily concerned the deepest truth of this Feast of feasts: that the Resurrection signifies the Father's Yes to Christ, His Yes to His Son's trust in Him, and therefore His Yes to all human hopes for deliverance, for life, for salvation.  Having had such an answer, what sure-founded joy is ours!

To-day, commenting on the Novus Ordo Gospel appointed, about the holy women seeing Our Lord, falling down before Him and clasping His sacred Feet, our preacher pointed out what he had once years before told me in pithy form: that the cure for all doubt and fear is worship and prayer.  (As he had put it, and as I ever remember it and repeat to others and pay heed to it, "If you lose your faith, the last thing you do is stop saying your prayers and stop going to Mass" - for that is precisely when you most need to pray and go to Mass!  True.)  

How do we have hope and trust and faith in Jesus Christ, in His salvation, in Him saving even us?  For we can feel unworthy of God's love - "As if that had anything to do with it," Fr commented forcefully: leaving unsaid what we ought ever recall,  that God's love is gratuitous and unmerited!  Or we may feel - in our Pelagian age - that we have no need of His salvation, which our goodness will deserve of itself, thank you very much, God perforce granting it, as too many suppose.  (O wretched deception and presumptuous heresy!  Salvation is unmeritable!)

We strengthen our faith and win against doubt and fear when we come to worship God at Mass, when we pray, when we contemplate Divine things.  The contemplative life is essential for our souls.  (I suspect the nuns well know the force of this: that's why they are in Carmel, for God's love and to save their souls, yea, and by intercession and example to help save men.)

As always, Fr Greg's homilies are deserving of praise, and I do wish he will one day publish them.  In the meanwhile, I will continue to note what I comprehend of them: but be mindful that "everything is received according to the mode of the receiver" - I do note them do with my emphases, in my language, with my editing, comments, revisions and excisions!  Poor Father...

Christmas Masses at Carmel

Well, all that's done and sorted: serving the Dawn Mass, that is!  I even had to play with the dreaded thurible; Mum charitably said afterward, I noticed you've got better at it (in the past I was hopeless as thurifer, and normally avoid the task whenever possible).

After the predictability of serving the Latin Mass, serving at the Novus Ordo is confusing - so many prudential judgements to be made, so little direction as to what to do...  and the sanctuary at the Carmel, in its chapel of the Immaculate Heart, is rather oddly shaped, since the altar faces the nuns' choir (separated off by the grille), while the people sit to the left of the nuns' choir (or if you prefer, the nuns are to their right) in a separate transept, the whole chapel making a V-shape.  As a result of this, the sanctuary isn't rectangular, but extends out toward the layfolk a triangular wing; and the credence is far over on the Gospel side, so to speak, while the sedilia is against the wall on the Epistle side; and the stand for the thurible (when used) is thoughtfully put next to the tabernacle on the wall behind the altar.  I have over time worked out or tried to work out ways of operating in this space, but I wish for some definite instruction.

In any case, for the record, regarding the music, the dear sisters sing hymns as always at the start and end of Mass, and also sing together a Gelineau setting of the Responsorial Psalm.  Since Fr has been using the Confiteor, they have had the chance to sing the Kyrie in chant (a simple one), and now of course the Gloria from Mass XV, and the Sanctus and Agnus Dei from Mass IX.  They have their own simple and rather mournful tone for the Alleluia and verse - ditto for the Amen at the end of the Canon (Fr's used the Roman Canon for these two Christmas Masses, including all the saints).  The Memorial Acclamation (unexpectedly bearable) has been "Lord, by your cross and resurrection..." in the chant-like setting from the Missal.  The last item the nuns sang, after they made their communion, was a meditative repetition of Gloria in excelsis Deo (à la Taize).  While not singing the orations or the Preface this morning as he did last night, Fr did lead us in singing the Lord's Prayer and following items as per usual.

Fr of course preached two good sermons; at Midnight, mentioning amongst other things the tenderness of God in becoming a little child, and the significance of night: negatively, it stands for man's sundering from God; positively, for rest, refreshment and repose after the model of God's resting - Our Saviour comes in the night to scatter the darkness of sin and lead us into everlasting rest.  This morn, he spoke on many rich themes, that are fast fading in my tired brain!  But two stand out... First, he quoted to us the second of the Christmas Prefaces, and explained how Our Lord came in human flesh to show us the great love of God for us, to restore the unity of Creation with the Divine, and to teach us true humility, which is primarily founded on the stupefying condescension of the Deity toward us in love, and only secondarily on a realization of our finitude and sinfulness.  Second, he quoted the Byzantine sticheron that follows -

O Christ, what shall we offer You for your coming on earth as a Man for our sake? Every creature that has its being from You gives thanks to You: the angels offer hymns of praise, the heavens give a star; wise man present their gifts and the shepherds, their wonder; the earth provides a cave and the desert a manger. As for us, we offer You a Mother, a Virgin Mother. O God who are from all eternity, have mercy on us!

- and pointed out how Our Lady in her love, care, charity, selfless giving and contemplation stood as exemplar of the ideal response to the human race, and posed the question, What in return will we give God this Christmas?  "Love so amazing, so divine, / Demands my soul, my life, my all" (quoting Isaac Watts rather than our priest, but the sentiment is the same).

Why is Catholic Preaching So Bad?

A challenge to all, especially to any former or present non-Catholics: why is the present state of Catholic preaching so bad?  

With honourable exceptions (various priests known to me spring to mind), the preaching done by priests at Mass in Australia (they never preach otherwise, which is in itself a damning inditement) is mind-numbingly boring - even leaving aside whatever ideological viewpoint is being expressed!

Contrariwise, on the rare occasions I've heard an Anglican or Lutheran preach, disregarding their particular viewpoint, they are far better at preaching.

Now, this is paradoxical: the Catholics have the grace of state imparted at ordination, the others, not; but, as "grace builds on nature", if no real learning about homiletics has been undertaken (I am aware of the very limited and very ideologically slanted courses available at Catholic institutions here in Oz), then there is very little for the Holy Ghost to work with - albeit He had no problem with a bunch of rough fisherman who'd been instructed by Our Blessed Lord, He did particularly succeed in imparting the gratia prædicationis to that learned erstwhile Pharisee, St Paul.

Since "faith comes through hearing" (Rom. x, 17), we have here a profound problem, at least partially responsible for the indifference, that is, the practical apostasy we see around us, and the fact that "my people are destroyed through lack of knowledge" (Hosea 4:6, in the Hebrew):

For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord, shall be saved.  How then shall they call on him, in whom they have not believed? Or how shall they believe him, of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear, without a preacher?  

(Rom. x, 13f)

I myself feel that the overdone emphasis on preaching, not sermons, but homilies (as if the former were somehow wicked), that is, on preaching on the readings of the day exclusively, turns "proclaiming the word of God" (I gnash my teeth at even repeating such jargon...) into an exercise in amateurish exegesis, regurgitating a sanitized version of the readings (in most cases, at the OF people find the first reading from the Old Testament obscure and irrelevant, the second from the Apostle too confusing, and the Gospel wearisome from long repetition), predictably ending in an bourgeois exhortation to "be nice" or indulge in a spot of social justice.  Such a homily has no content; it would be better to be silent!

The pressing need to-day is precisely to preach sermons, homiletical if you will, that actually set out to illumine our intellects and inspire our wills, that we may depth (!) our understanding of our most holy Faith, and match our actions to its precepts.  What is particularly lacking is any motive for believing and practising - that is, to have a dose of "salvation anxiety" as Fr Dom Murphy would say, to point out that we have before us the Two Ways, the way of life or the way of death, and that we must work to win heaven and avoid hell.  Since most contemporary Catholics, priests and people, are indifferent Universalists in fact, they see no threat of hell and have an assurance of heaven only mitigated by their very minimal belief in the afterlife: so why bother saying or doing anything?  The peculiarly Australian anti-intellectualism that afflicts our Church also militates against trying to impart doctrine; and since 1968 few dare to challenge a congregation to strive for anything against their inclinations, sacrifice being a dirty word.  (This attitude also explains why for most men Confession is a forgotten sacrament, since it is utterly against the Zeitgeist.)

David and Terra, et al., as my fellow Aussie Catholic bloggers I call upon you to contribute to this discussion!

After an Afternoon Nap

Woke up after a long snooze in a warm room.  Turkey is quite soporific; so must have been the punch and the sherry and the sparkling wine and the dessert wine and the brandy cream with the Christmas pudding...  Roast potatoes and pumpkin, zucchini with tomato, broad beans with peas, cauliflower cheese; turkey with gravy; apricot, pork, and water chestnut stuffing; prune stuffing; glazed ham.  Oh, and some cashews to nibble on.  Did I mention stuffing?

We'll gather soon for the last part of the family Christmas rituals: watching The Queen's Christmas Message – Long may she reign.

We had our usual exchange of presents before our Christmas dinner.  There was time to catch some of the Pope's Midnight Mass on TV just before we had to sit down and feast.  (I've just read his masterful homily, which I half-heard before.)  

Thank God I'm on holiday away from Perth!  Here it has been about 20˚C; over there, 40˚C, the hottest since 1915; and Midnight Mass, tho' beautified in Perth with polyphony, chant and incense, must have been stiflingly hot.

I served Mass this morning at the Carmel; by special privilege at Christmas they have Mass at 8.30am, not 7.30.  Since Midnight Mass at Carmel finished just after 1am, I managed to get maybe 5 hours sleep...  at least, since I wasn't needed to serve (an older fellow, one of the lay sacristans did; he's better with a thurible), which meant I could have my Trad. Missal with me and pray along (the readings and prayers are almost the same at Christmas, old rite and new).  

The nuns, as ever, sang a hymn or carol as a processional and recessional; they sing the Kyrie, Gloria, Sanctus and Agnus Dei in Gregorian chant; in English, they sing the Responsorial Psalm, Alleluia and Communion verses, the Memorial Acclamation, and, in Latin or English, a meditative Taize-style piece after their communion.  Two of the sisters read the Old and New Testament lessons from a lectern within their chapel, behind their screen, and one read the petitions of the Prayer of the Faithful.  At Midnight Mass, we had incense, as is their custom, and the image of the Holy Child was carried in by the priest, and censed upon being laid in the manger, during the singing of O come, all ye faithful.

The visiting priest, a Dominican, has used the Roman Canon at all Masses, and sung the Preface and sundry prayers; and he preaches well.

Here's my own half-remembered precis of his words.

Last night, he bade us consider the contrast between Octavian, at whose birth a runner brought the news to the Roman Senate that the future ruler of the world had been born, and Our Lord, born, not in a palace, but to humble folk in an obscure corner of the Empire.  By age 33, having defeated his rivals, Octavian had become the first Roman Emperor, and the Senate voted him the title Augustus; Our Lord at age 33 went to the Cross.  Yet it was by coming into our world, in true flesh and blood, and dying on the Cross, that our salvation was accomplished.  [It was not Augustus on his throne, robed in purple, who saved us.  The latter is dead and buried; the former is alive, living for ever and ever.]  The pagan world yearned for what it knew not, and its philosophers admitted their final inability to achieve contentment.  Experience shews that every human heart, whether poor or rich, is empty, yearning for something to fill it.  Down the ages, people have lamented this, and tried every expedient to fill it: riches, pleasure, etc.  But only God can fill the human heart.  As he pointed out, the Muslim call to prayer, Allahu akhbar, signifies "God is great" – but our Faith has it that God is so great, He can come as a tiny Child, humbly, in humility.

This morning, he preached on that fear many feel, consciously or unconsciously, that God is as it were an invader, coming to take away our human independence and way of life.  Perhaps since the Enlightenment, certainly since the rise of modern atheism, Existentialism, and so forth, God has been considered unwelcome because too many hearts fear Him, would not want Him, wish to deny and shut Him out – yet God comes not to destroy (or rather, to destroy only what is diminishing our humanity), but to raise up what is fallen.  Human nature is capable of bearing divinity [capax Dei].  The Incarnation proves this.  Every man and woman, then, is capable of becoming a partaker of the divine nature.  "This is the work of a lifetime – as you know, sisters" he said, "– but also the gift of a moment."

Christmas is indeed all about gifts: that holy and wondrous exchange of gifts: sacrum commercium.  As we sang at the end of Midnight Mass, in the words of O little town of Bethlehem: "How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given / So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heaven."