The Manner of Hearing Mass

For some years, I have found the most convenient way to hear Mass, since there is only a monthly Latin Mass here, is to split the difference between hearing Sunday Mass at my nearby parish church (which is quite orthodox, and even features the use of incense) and having to drive for hours to go to the Mass in the Extraordinary Form. The way I do this is by attending my local parish Mass, and bringing my layfolk’s hand missal with me, from which I read the Mass propers of the day, while joining in the responses made by all, and sitting, standing or kneeling in conformity with the usual congregational postures.

Before Mass

A few minutes or more before Mass begins, I recite to myself the prayers at the foot of the altar: In nomine Patris... Introibo ad altare Dei... Judica me Deus... Introibo... Adjutorium... Confiteor... Misereatur... Indulgentiam... (changing the last three to their forms for use at Compline when no priest is present) Deus tu conversus... Ostende nobis Domine... Domine exaudi orationem... (omitting the Dominus vobiscum...) Oremus... Aufer a nobis... Oramus te Domine... (changing the last prayer to the first person plural and adding Per Christum Dominum nostrum). 

To these prayers, I adjoin the following statement of intention (from a brief formula of preparation for Mass, adding the phrase per manus sacerdotis tui – “by the hands of thy priest”): Domine Jesu Christe, in unione illius divinæ intentionis, qua ipse in ultima cœna, et in ara crucis, sacrificium corporis et sanguinis tui Deo Patri obtulisti, hoc idem sacrificium ei offerre intendo, per manus sacerdotis tui. Complaceat sibi, o Jesu, in te; et per te propitius nobis sit in vitam æternam. Amen.

Then, I read the Introit of the day from my old missal – my preference is to “triple” the Introit, by reading the Introit antiphon between its psalm verse and the doxology, as well as before and after as usual. 

The Outset of Mass

All that done, I can then, if I choose, join in singing the processional hymn, before making the sign of the Cross, replying to the priest’s salutation, participating in the penitential act, and singing along with the Kyrie (and Gloria in excelsis). But while the priest reads the Collect (to which I respond Amen), I read the traditional Collect from my missal – to which I often add, for reasons of devotion, other Collects also (which fills up the time taken for the Old Testament reading to be read). 

Typically, after the Collect of the Day (say, that of the 22nd Sunday after Pentecost), I will add the Collect of the Saint of the Day, if any, followed by the Votive Collect in honour of Our Lady and All the Saints, the Votive Collect for the Living and the Dead, the Collect from the Mass in Time of War, the Collect from the Mass in Time of Pestilence, and the Collect from the Mass for the Sick – all of these extra collects being read together with only one concluding formula at the very end. While I do not follow the exact rules about the particular collects to be read at Mass, I try to employ an odd number of Collects, not exceeding seven; I do likewise for the Secret and Postcommunion.

To prevent appearing too singular, I still make the correct response after the first reading, and join in the response to the Responsorial Psalm (which is a good way to check my short-term memory). Then I read the Epistle and following chants from my missal (repeating the respond of the Gradual after its verse), join in singing the Alleluia if the tune is one I know, respond to the priest as he introduces the Gospel – and read the traditional pericope while he reads the one prescribed in the modern Lectionary. (Often at the end of the reading I will pray inwardly, Per Evangelica dicta, deleantur nostra delicta.) All that done, I can settle back and relax while the sermon is preached.

After the Sermon

I join in the Creed – if unfortunately the Apostles’ Creed is read, during the Prayers of the Faithful I read the Nicene Creed in Latin sotto voce, but making the correct response to each petition and the final prayer thereof. As I am used to the gracious English custom of inserting a “Hail Mary...” before the concluding prayer of the general intercessions, if one isn't said, I’ll inwardly say one anyway. Once all those prayers are over, I read the Offertory from my missal (to which I would ideally add the Offertory verses as well), and follow it with Domine exaudi... (as substitute for the priestly Dominus vobiscum...), Oremus and the Secret (plus other Secrets corresponding to whichever additional Collects I may have read earlier). 

That done, I can join in the Offertory hymn if I choose; I make the usual replies to the priest’s prayers, up to and including the Sursum corda dialogue, but I read the appropriate traditional Preface in Latin while the celebrant reads the modern Preface, then join in singing the Sanctus. Note that I do not read to myself any of the traditional Offertory prayers, as they are proper to the priest alone, apart from saying to myself when censed, “The Lord enkindle in us the fire of his love, and the flame of everlasting charity” – in Latin, Accendat in nobis Dominus ignem sui amoris, et flammam æternæ caritatis. Amen.

During the Canon

It is too difficult to attempt to read the Roman Canon in Latin to yourself during the Eucharistic Prayer (especially if it is E.P. II), so simply attend to the actual words being prayed. Sometimes my parish priest uses the Roman Canon, which is the best; but I don’t mind his use of E.P. III or IV either.

As the Canon is recited silently by the priest in the Traditional Mass, ne impediatur populus orare (lest the people be impeded from praying), as Lyndwood, a noted mediæval English canonist stated, in other words, each layman ought pray as he can during the Eucharistic Prayer – while for years I used to read silently the Roman Canon, initially in English, and latterly in Latin, while the priest prayed it, for a long time now I have instead quietly recited the five decades of the Chaplet of Divine Mercy (in Latin) and its concluding triple Trinitarian petition; but when perforce at the Novus Ordo, this is not possible, so instead I listen to what the priest prays aloud, and add my own short silent invocations throughout.

At the consecratory Epiclesis, addressing the Three Divine Persons, I pray, Jube, Domine, benedicere, and Veni, Sancte Spiritus, and Veni, Domine Jesu, and, at the end thereof Amen, Amen, Amen.

At the Words of Consecration, I inwardly pray an Amen after every phrase, adding the Mozarabic formula Sic credimus, Domine Jesu, after the last Amen, the ancient Irish or Gallican phrase pro sæcula vita after the words of the Consecration of the Host, and the traditional Roman phrase mysterium fidei in its position amongst the words of the Consecration of the Chalice.

At each Elevation, I adore Our Lord, truly, really and substantially present in his Body and Blood, saying inwardly Omnis gloria tibi, Domine Altissime, then Dominus meus et Deus meus and Salva nos, plus In te, Domine, speravi, non confundar in æternum, followed by Tu nobis, victor Rex, miserere, and a final Amen, Alleluja (or a triple Amen when Alleluja is not said).

After the Memorial Acclamation (or in place of it), I recite the stanza O salutaris Hostia..., as was the old French practice.

At the communion Epiclesis, I make the sign of the Cross at the mention of the coming reception of Christ’s Body and Blood, and the consequent infusion of the Holy Spirit; at the memorial of the faithful departed, I say Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem thrice, adding sempiternam and Amen after the last invocation.

During the Canon’s magnificent concluding doxology Per ipsum, marked as it is by the Little Elevation of Host and Chalice, I bow my head (as was the Dominican custom) at omnis honor et gloria.

From the Lord’s Prayer until Communion Time

Ideally I should silently say Oremus before the priest exhorts all to join in the Lord’s Prayer, and then I join with all in singing or saying it. But while he then reads the modern version of the Embolism, I instead recite the traditional Libera nos quæsumus, pausing to give the reply – how crazy, though, to make a doxology into the people’s response! – to its modern form, then complete the Libera and its proper doxology while the priest says the prayer for peace, so I am in time to reply to the Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum.

Thankfully, the pandemic has reduced the exchange of the sign of peace from an irreverent melee heedless of the worship due to the divine Lamb upon the altar (but instead more reminiscent of the wanton rioting of the children of Israel in honour of the Golden Calf) into a more restrained and dignified silent nod of the head to those nearby.

Next, I join in singing the Agnus Dei, and once the priest has led the congregation in the Ecce Agnus Dei, I recite the Domine non sum dignus once aloud in the vernacular in union with all, then twice more in Latin. As there probably would not have been sufficient time to recite the third Confiteor before that point, instead I pray quietly the Confiteor, Misereatur and Indulgentiam in the time remaining before receiving Communion.

During and after Holy Communion

Not always, but sometimes, I say some short prayers to myself as I go forward to communicate, such as the three following chants:

(a) a version of the Mozarabic communion chant Gustate, et videte quam suavis est Dominus, * Alleluja, alleluja, alleluja. Benedicam Dominum in omni tempore; semper laus ejus in ore meo. * Alleluja... In Domino laudabitur anima mea: audiant mansueti, et lætentur. * Alleluja... Magnificate Dominum mecum, et exaltemus nomen ejus in idipsum. * Alleluja... Accedite ad eum, et illuminamini; et facies vestræ non confundentur. * Alleluja... Beatus vir qui sperat in eo. * Alleluja... (Ps. 33, 9. 2-4. 6. 9)

(b) a Latin translation of the Cherubic Hymn at the Great Entrance of the Presanctified Liturgy of the Byzantine Rite: Nunc virtutes cælorum cum nobis invisibiliter adorant: ecce Rex gloriæ introit. Ecce mysticum et perfectum sacrificium hic deduxerant: appropinquemus cum fidelitate et desiderio, ut facti simus participes vitæ æternæ, alleluja.

(c) the Gallican communion chant Venite, populi, ad sacrum et immortale mysterium, et libamen agendum: cum timore et fide accedamus, manibus mundis: pœnitentiæ munus communicemus: quoniam Agnus Dei propter nos Patri sacrificium propositum est. Ipsum solum adoremus: ipsum glorificemus cum Angelis clamantes: Alleluja.

Ideally, if circumstances permit, I receive Communion “kneeling on the tongue – not standing on the hand” (and as there is an altar rail at which to kneel in my parish church, doing so is my usual practice there), but I always remember that there is no sin in either approved method, and wish to avoid giving scandal to others, whether clergy or layfolk, who are so fixed in their ways as to be ignorant of this.

Having returned to my pew, I say to myself Corpus Domini nostri Jesu Christi custodiat me in vitam æternam. Amen. – note I do not use the Roman phrase animam meam, but the more direct Dominican me – while making the sign of the Cross. Then I pray the Sarum Ave in æternum sanctissima Caro Christi, mihi ante omnia et super omnia summa dulcedo, which I follow with the Ave verum... and the modified Mozarabic chant Refecti Christi Corpore, te laudamus, Domine, alleluja, alleluja, alleluja. Gloria et honor Patri et Filio et Spiritui Sancto in sæcula sæculorum. Amen. Alleluja, alleluja, alleluja. Refecti Christi Corpore, te laudamus, Domine, alleluja, alleluja, alleluja. Sometimes I may add the antiphon O sacrum convivium... and the Gospel canticle Nunc dimittis... Of course, sometimes the Communion hymn is quite decent, and I will join in singing some or all of it.

In the time remaining before the priest says the Prayer after Communion (to which I of course respond Amen), I read the Communion antiphon of the day from my old missal, and follow that with Domine exaudi... (again substituting for the priestly Dominus vobiscum...), Oremus and the relevant Postcommunion(s). Then I make the usual replies to the priest’s final words, receive his blessing, and may sing the recessional hymn, or not, while also reciting the Marian Anthem of the season – though I don’t tend to read the Last Gospel to myself, though I could and indeed sometimes do so.

When kneeling down after Mass has ended, I often say the following prayer, taken from of all places the 1954 South African Book of Common Prayer, which is evidently an English version of the Placeat tibi, rendered suitable for lay use: 

LOOK with favour, most Holy Trinity, on this our act of worship and service; and may this sacrifice set forth before thine eyes be acceptable to thy Divine Majesty, and avail for us and all for whom we have offered it; who livest and reignest, [ever] one God, [blessed for ever,] world without end. Amen.

Banal Insipid Prayers

I was initially delighted that at long last the lawful authorities in Holy Mother Church had noticed a glaring omission in the modern  Roman Missal – the absence of any Votive Mass in Time of Mortality (that is, by Pestilence and Plague) – and had issued a new Mass in Time of Pandemic, for the professed purpose of "implor[ing] God to bring an end to this pandemic" (A peste perambulante, Decree of the Congregation for Divine Worship, 30th March 2020).

This Mass proper may be used on all days not solemnities or of equivalent rank, so it may replace even Feasts of Our Lord, his Mother, his Apostles, and the Saints, as well as Sundays of Ordinary Time (no great loss, that), and both Sundays of Christmastide and Days within the Octave of Christmas! 

There are only 47 days of the year when it may not be used! These are the Sundays of Advent, Lent and Eastertide (including Pentecost Sunday of course); Ash Wednesday, all the days of Holy Week, the Easter Triduum, the Easter Octave, the Ascension of Our Lord, and Trinity Sunday; and also the Solemnities of Corpus Christi, the Sacred Heart, and Christ the King – all these being "movable feasts", amounting to 36 days – and moreover 11 solemnities that occur on fixed dates: those of Christmas, Mary the Mother of God, the Epiphany, St Joseph, the Annunciation, the Nativity of St John Baptist, Saints Peter & Paul, the Assumption, All Saints, All Souls, and the Immaculate Conception.

However, and most unfortunately, the prayers of this new formulary are disappointingly banal, insipid and uninspiring. I trust the good Lord will bear with such limp and timid effusions, for he knows mankind all too well; but we must acknowledge that this is a jejune and feeble production of the CDW, unworthy of the sacred liturgy. Compare this to the EF Votive Mass in Time of Mortality, drawn up by Clement VI in 1348 at the onrush of the Black Death! The comparison is extremely telling.

To begin with, in the Novus Ordo the readings are usually taken from those of the ferial day, but if desired, a selection (itself extracted from those For Any Necessity) is proposed for use with these appointed prayers – yet none of these readings actually mentions plague, disease, pestilence or illness! 

To be fair, the suggested Epistle is the magnificent ending of Romans chapter 8 (verses 31b-39), but while a most uplifting passage, it is not explicitly ad rem. The alternative Lesson (Lamentations 3:17-26) is also pleasant enough, but not directly concerned with epidemics or universal contagion. The same can be said of the two alternative responsorial psalms – abbreviated from Psalms 79(80) and 122(123) – and the Gospel Acclamation (2 Cor. 1: 3b-4a): they are by their very nature as inspired Scripture written for our edification, but they do not directly address the matter at hand. The Gospel pericope, even more peculiarly, is not one of the many in which Our Lord heals the sick, but rather concerns him stilling the wind and the waves (Mark 4:35-41), when the disciples cry out in fear.

What of the EF Mass from the days of the Black Death? Its Lesson speaks of the Davidic Plague and its averting by God's mercy, when he relented at the prayer of the repentant King, and restrained the destroying angel he had sent, in his wrath at David's sin, to inflict the punishment of pestilence. The Gradual recalls that the Lord sent his word, and he healed and saved men from death. The Gospel relates how Christ in his days on earth healed the sick and drove out demons. The Offertory refers to Aaron's propitiatory offering of incense (cf. Numbers 16:46-48), which appeased the anger of God and stilled the plague he had sent to punish rebellious Israel. But such themes are evidently strong meat, despite being truths taught explicitly in the Bible, and would be too, too much for effete, delicate moderns who can bear only the milk of a milk-and-water religion.

To return to this new OF proper Mass, the appointed Entrance and Communion Antiphons are well-known, indeed beloved texts offering consolation (Is 53:4; Mt 11:28), but have no direct reference to a pandemic. By contrast, the Introit and Communion of the EF Mass pro vitanda mortalitate (to use its older title) are much more relevant: the former refers directly to the Davidic Plague (as does the Lesson), while the latter refers to Our Lord's healing of the sick.

Now, to the prayers of the just-published Mass in Time of Pandemic, which include the special Lenten feature of a Prayer over the People after the Prayer after Communion:

Omnípotens sempitérne Deus, in omni perículo singuláre præsídium, qui fílios tuos in tribulatióne fide supplicántes exáudis, nobis propitiáre benígnus, et præsta, quǽsumus, defúnctis réquiem ætérnam, solámen plorántibus, salútem infírmis, moriéntibus pacem, operántibus pro fratrum sanitáte robur, spíritum sapiéntiæ illis qui nos in potestáte moderántur, et ánimum ad omnes benévole accedéndi ut cuncti nomen sanctum tuum glorificáre valeámus. Per Dóminum. 

Súscipe, Dómine, múnera quæ, in hodiérnis perículis, tibi offérimus, et fac, quǽsumus, ut, omnipoténtia tua, in fontem sanitátis pacísque convertántur. Per Christum. 

Deus, a quo recépimus vitæ ætérnæ medicínam, concéde, quǽsumus, ut, per hoc sacramentum de cæléstis remédii plenitúdine gloriémur. Per Christum. 

Protéctor in te sperántium, Deus, bénedic pópulum tuum, salva, tuére, dispóne, ut, a peccátis liber, ab hoste secúrus, in tuo semper amóre persevéret. Per Christum.

What can be said of the immensely long, almost wearisome Collect? If divided up, as I am about to demonstrate using its official English version, it would be better as a series of petitions in the Universal Prayer:

Almighty and eternal God, our refuge in every danger, to whom we turn in our distress; in faith we pray[:]
(1) look with compassion on the afflicted,
grant
(2) eternal rest to the dead,
(3) comfort to mourners,
(4) healing to the sick,
(5) peace to the dying,
(6) strength to healthcare workers,
(7) wisdom to our leaders and
(8) [to us] the courage to reach out to all in love,
so that together we may give glory to your holy name. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, for ever and ever.

Note carefully: petitions 1 and 2 ask for what cannot be seen (God's compassionate eye cast upon the afflicted, and eternal rest granted to the dead); petitions 3, 5, 6, 7 and 8 ask for good emotional and intellectual states of mind; and petition 4 alone actually asks for a visible benefit (healing for the sick) that, frankly, will come to most anyway (since only a small percentage die of this disease). Certainly God is our refuge in danger and distress; certainly we ought pray for all these benefits; but where is the prayer that this pandemic cease? Isn't that the professed purpose of this whole Mass? So why does it nowhere ask for it?

Do the author(s) and those who have promulgated this formulary perhaps not believe that God can bring this pandemic to an end, whensoever and howsoever he has decided in his all-wise providence?

The new Orationes super oblata, post communionem and super populum are reasonable, but could be used generally as they contain hardly anything more than vague references – the first refers to "the perils of these days" ("this time of peril" in the official translation), and prays that the offered bread and wine become a source of healing, but nothing more than that, which many such offertory prayers express in similar terms; the second is even more general, even as regards its allusions to Holy Communion as medicine and a heavenly remedy (which expressions are again commonly used in such prayers); the third of these is much the best, as it asks God, the Protector of those who hope in him, to bless, save, protect and dispose them to persevere, but I don't think that we generally regard this present pandemic as an "enemy", and the prayer – of course – has to end with an embarrassingly glib reference to "love".

Those prayers of the almost-seven-centuries-old Missa in tempore mortalitatis, on the other hand, are most explicit in their insistence that pestilence is the just punishment due on account of our sins, and so we must repent and cry to God for mercy:

Deus, qui non mortem, sed pænitentiam desideras peccatorum: populum tuum ad te revertentem propitius respice; ut, dum tibi devotus exsistit, iracundiæ tuæ flagella ab eo clementer amoveas. Per. 

Subveniat nobis, quæsumus, Domine, sacrificii præsentis oblatio: quæ nos et ab erroribus universis potenter absolvat, et a totius eripiat perditionis incursu. Per. 

Exaudi nos, Deus salutaris noster: et populum tuum ab iracundiæ tuæ terroribus liberum, et misericordiæ tuæ fac largitate securum. Per.

In the Collect, the first oration above, God is confessed as desiring not the death, but the repentance of sinners, such that he is implored graciously to regard his people turning back to him, that he may mercifully remove from us the scourges of his wrath.

Likewise, in the Secret of this traditional formulary, we beg the Lord that the offering of this present sacrifice may both powerfully absolve us from all errors, and deliver us from every incursion of perdition; and in the Postcommunion, God our health and salvation is asked to hear us, that his people be freed from the terrors of his wrath, and made secure in the gracious gift of his mercy.

How much more concise and to the point these prayers are.

Luckily, given that worldwide Masses are more and more said only in private, and less and less in public – how annoying to proud modern liturgists! – it is more and more the case that priests, unfettered by any de facto constraints on their free choice, are able to offer Mass according to the Vetus Ordo, and thus may sensibly choose the older of these two opposed propers, for "the old is better" (Luke 5:39).

Same Collect, Different Collect

Having read the Collect of Advent Sunday quite a number of times in the Breviary this week, I was intrigued to hear it read in English at morning Mass at Carmel today, Friday the 6th (since sadly St Nicholas was not commemorated, his being but an optional celebration in the modern West):

Stir up your power, we pray, O Lord, and come, that with you to protect us, we may find rescue from the pressing dangers of our sins, and with you to set us free, we may be found worthy of salvation. Who live and reign…

This struck me as a very able rendering of the Latin:

Excita, quæsumus, Domine, potentiam tuam, et veni: ut ab imminentibus peccatorum periculis, te mereamur protegente eripi, te liberante salvari: Qui vivis et regnas…

However, the traditional Collect of St Nicholas – not reproduced in the Novus Ordo – was evidently a little too strongly worded for sensitive moderns, despite the great need the sinners of this age have of it:

Deus, qui beatum Nicolaum Pontificem innumeris decorasti miraculis: tribue, quæsumus; ut, ejus meritis et precibus, a gehennæ incendiis liberemur. Per…

That is, 

O God, Who didst adorn the blessed pontiff Nicholas with miracles uncountable, grant, we beg, that, by his merits and prayers, we may be delivered from the fires of hell. Through…

It saddens me to find that what our wicked and sinful age stands most in need of – above all, to be spared Hell, and at the intercession of the saints to be saved through Christ at the last – to have been by overly contented "experts" judged too controversial, when, given the slaughters and every vile crime of the past century, one would think there to be abundant motivation to utter such a plea daily.

As usual, Vetus melius est, "The old is better" – and we have the authority of Pope Francis for calling the traditional Roman Rite the Vetus Ordo, and hence my referring this text of the Gospels to the same.

May I extend to the Russian Catholic parish of Holy Trinity – St Nicholas in Melbourne, every good wish for their patronal feast: though, of course, as they keep to the Julian calendar, they will not serve the Divine Liturgy in his honour until the 19th of December according to the Gregorian.

I note that their services contains a similar prayer to St Nicholas (the 2nd troparion after the heirmos of the 2nd Canon of the 4th Ode at Matins):

Standing before the throne of God, cease thou never to make earnest supplication in behalf of all of us, thy faithful servants, O wise and wondrous Nicholas, that we may be delivered from everlasting fire, from the enemy, from the wicked tongue, and from affliction.

May St Nicholas intercede for us with Christ God, that He save our souls.

Mass in Hebrew, Greek, Latin – and English

The Roman Mass is of course always offered in the three sacred languages (cf. St John xix, 20) of Hebrew, Greek and Latin, at least in the Extraordinary Form thereof – for Amen, Alleluia, Sabaoth and Hosanna are of course Hebrew words, as Kyrie and Christe eleison are Greek, and the rest is Latin.

In my own parish, the weekday Mass, in the Ordinary Form, is offered in these tongues together with English: for daily the Kyrie is chanted in Greek, and the Sanctus and Agnus Dei in Latin, while of course those four Hebrew words Amen, Alleluia, Sabaoth and Hosanna occur during the liturgy, the latter two within the Sanctus, while the Alleluia is sung, and many times we say Amen.

Since to-day is a public holiday here in northern Tasmania ("Recreation Day", whatever that means), I attended the 9am parish Mass.  Our priest likes music, and, seeing as to-day is a feria, he offered a Mass for the dead in purple vestments: "The Lord's my shepherd" was the opening hymn, while a version of the commendation said at funerals, set to a hymn-tune, was used as the closing hymn.  As is done always, the Kyrie, Sanctus and Agnus Dei were chanted, as was the Alleluia (bearing in mind that this is sung even at Requiems in the modern Mass, as is done in the Byzantine Rite also).  [I cannot now recall if he sang the doxology to the Eucharistic Prayer, but he usually does so.]

For this Requiem Mass, the 1st Preface of the Dead was used, together with Eucharistic Prayer III and its specially enlarged intercessions for  the departed as may be used at Masses for the dead; the orations were those "For Several Deceased Persons or for All the Dead", as follows:

Collect 

O God, who willed that your only Begotten Son, 

having conquered death, 

should pass over into the realm of heaven, 

grant, we pray, to your departed servants (N. and N.) 

that, with the mortality of this life overcome, 

they may gaze eternally on you, 

their Creator and Redeemer. 

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, 

who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, 

one God, for ever and ever.

Prayer over the Offerings 

Look with favour, we pray, O Lord, 

on the sacrificial offerings 

we present to you for the souls of your servants 

and, just as you bestowed on them 

the dignity of the Christian faith, 

grant them also its reward. 

Through Christ our Lord. 

Preface I for the Dead

It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, 
always and everywhere to give you thanks, 

Lord, holy Father, almighty and eternal God, 

through Christ our Lord. 

In him the hope of blessed resurrection has dawned, 

that those saddened by the certainty of dying 

might be consoled by the promise of immortality to come. 

Indeed for your faithful, Lord, 

life is changed not ended, 

and, when this earthly dwelling turns to dust, 

an eternal dwelling is made ready for them in heaven. 

And so, with Angels and Archangels, 

with Thrones and Dominions, 

and with all the hosts and Powers of heaven, 

we sing the hymn of your glory, 

as without end we acclaim: 

Eucharistic Prayer III, in Masses for the Dead

...

Remember your servant[s] N. 

whom you have called (today) 

from this world to yourself. 

Grant that he (she) [they] who was [were] united with your Son in a death like his, 

may also be one with him in his Resurrection, 

when from the earth 

he will raise up in the flesh those who have died, 

and transform our lowly body 

after the pattern of his own glorious body. 

To our departed brothers and sisters, too, 

and to all who were pleasing to you 

at their passing from this life, 

give kind admittance to your kingdom. 

There we hope to enjoy for ever the fullness of your glory, 

when you will wipe away every tear from our eyes. 

For seeing you, our God, as you are, 

we shall be like you for all the ages 
through Christ our Lord, 

through whom you bestow on the world all that is good.

Through him...

Prayer after Communion 

Through these sacrificial gifts, 

which we have received, O Lord, 

bestow on your departed servants your great mercy, 

and, to those you have endowed with the grace of Baptism, 

grant also the fullness of eternal joy. 

Through Christ our Lord. 

Note especially the mention of offering the Sacrifice for the souls of the departed in the Prayer over the Offerings – reference to the "souls" of the departed was often dropped in the reform of the Missal, but survives in certain of the prayers for use at Masses for the Dead.

For the Prayer of the Faithful or General Intercessions, Father took the intercessions from Lauds in the Office for the Dead, as also may be done.

After Mass and thanksgiving, I had a chat with Fr Allan, and he mentioned something sad that several priests have told of: a parishioner, quite devout, has just died – but the children, doubtless unchurched, didn't even want a Mass for her funeral, just some inoffensive private ceremony not even at the church; thus their shame and embarrassment at not being churchgoers, their rejection through laziness or sin of the practice of the Faith, deprives their Catholic mother of a proper Requiem, a terrible injustice.  Father of course indicated that, like those other priests I've heard the like from, he would be offering a Mass for the repose of her soul, lest she be deprived of the suffrages of Holy Church through the fault of her children.

(I of course do not quote kindly Father in referring to the unchurched persons in such a manner, but I think it quite true to do so.  Even an unbeliever ought have respect to the wishes of the departed, methinks.  It reminds me of the dreadful crime of Simone de Beauvoir in not letting her dying mother be told of her terminal illness, and refusing to allow her a priest when her mother would have surely wanted one.)

Elizabethan Prayers I and II

From the time of Elizabeth I comes "The Order Of Prayer upon Wednesdays and Fridays, to avert and turn God's wrath from us threatened by the late terrible earthquake, to be used in all Parish Churches" (Liturgical Services of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth, 562-566) – a service appointed in consequence of the great earthquake that shook England and sundry lands around on the 6th of April 1580.  

I spare readers the immensely lengthy and rather over-enthusiastic prayer, but I do like the choice for the First Lesson of either Joel i or ii (or Isaias lviii), and in particular find the choice of proper psalms very apt: Psalms 30 (Vulg. 29), 46 (45), and 91 (90), which I append in the Prayerbook version (which is approved for Catholic use):

Psalm 30. Exaltabo te, Domine

I WILL magnify thee, O Lord, for thou hast set me up : and not made my foes to triumph over me.

2. O Lord my God, I cried unto thee : and thou hast healed me.

3. Thou, Lord, hast brought my soul out of hell : thou hast kept my life from them that go down to the pit.

4. Sing praises unto the Lord, O ye saints of his : and give thanks unto him for a remembrance of his holiness.

5. For his wrath endureth but the twinkling of an eye, and in his pleasure is life : heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.

6. And in my prosperity I said, I shall never be removed : thou, Lord, of thy goodness hast made my hill so strong.

7. Thou didst turn thy face from me : and I was troubled.

8. Then cried I unto thee, O Lord : and gat me to my Lord right humbly.

9. What profit is there in my blood : when I go down to the pit?

10. Shall the dust give thanks unto thee : or shall it declare thy truth?

11. Hear, O Lord, and have mercy upon me : Lord, be thou my helper.

12. Thou hast turned my heaviness into joy : thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness.

13. Therefore shall every good man sing of thy praise without ceasing : O my God, I will give thanks unto thee for ever.

Psalm 46. Deus noster refugium

GOD is our hope and strength : a very present help in trouble.

2. Therefore will we not fear, though the earth be moved : and though the hills be carried into the midst of the sea;

3. Though the waters thereof rage and swell : and though the mountains shake at the tempest of the same.

4. The rivers of the flood thereof shall make glad the city of God : the holy place of the tabernacle of the most Highest.

5. God is in the midst of her, therefore shall she not be removed : God shall help her, and that right early.

6. The heathen make much ado, and the kingdoms are moved : but God hath shewed his voice, and the earth shall melt away.

7. The Lord of hosts is with us : the God of Jacob is our refuge.

8. O come hither, and behold the works of the Lord : what destruction he hath brought upon the earth.

9. He maketh wars to cease in all the world : he breaketh the bow, and knappeth the spear in sunder, and burneth the chariots in the fire.

10. Be still then, and know that I am God : I will be exalted among the heathen, and I will be exalted in the earth.

11. The Lord of hosts is with us : the God of Jacob is our refuge.

Psalm 91. Qui habitat

WHOSO dwelleth under the defence of the most High : shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

2. I will say unto the Lord, Thou art my hope, and my strong hold : my God, in him will I trust.

3. For he shall deliver thee from the snare of the hunter : and from the noisome pestilence.

4. He shall defend thee under his wings, and thou shalt be safe under his feathers : his faithfulness and truth shall be thy shield and buckler.

5. Thou shalt not be afraid for any terror by night : nor for the arrow that flieth by day;

6. For the pestilence that walketh in darkness : nor for the sickness that destroyeth in the noon-day.

7. A thousand shall fall beside thee, and ten thousand at thy right hand : but it shall not come nigh thee.

8. Yea, with thine eyes shalt thou behold : and see the reward of the ungodly.

9. For thou, Lord, art my hope : thou hast set thine house of defence very high.

10. There shall no evil happen unto thee : neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.

11. For he shall give his angels charge over thee : to keep thee in all thy ways.

12. They shall bear thee in their hands : that thou hurt not thy foot against a stone.

13. Thou shalt go upon the lion and adder : the young lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy feet.

14. Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him : I will set him up, because he hath known my Name.

15. He shall call upon me, and I will hear him : yea, I am with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and bring him to honour.

16. With long life will I satisfy him : and shew him my salvation.

From the reign of Elizabeth II, albeit from Italian sources, comes the following Collect in the modern Roman Missal, evidently a conflation of the old Collect and Secret for use in time of earthquake, with some additions made that supply the last two phrases:

Deus, qui fundásti terram super stabilitátem suam, parce metuéntibus, propitiáre supplícibus, ut, treméntis terrae perículis pénitus amótis, cleméntiam tuam iúgiter sentiámus, et, tua protectióne secúri, tibi serviámus gratánter. Per...

My unofficial translation:

O God, “Who didst establish the earth on firm foundations” (Ps 103:5a), spare those who are afraid, show Thy mercy to those who implore Thee, that, by wholly removing the perils of earthquake, we may evermore enjoy Thy mercy, and, kept safe by Thy protection, may we serve Thee with joy.  Through...

Unfortunately any mention of God's wrath was judged unacceptable to "modern man" (whoever he is) by the relevant cœtus, so they snipped and pasted the bits they liked to compile this pastiche prayer. At least it is vastly shorter than the Elizabethan prayer alluded to above.

Ordinary Mass in Wellington Cathedral

This morning I went along to Mass in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel of the Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, Wellington, at 8.30am on Wednesday 12th January.

The chapel after Mass, the candles &c. having been packed away.

Mass, being in the Ordinary Form, was for Wednesday of the 1st week in Ordinary Time [sic].

The liturgy, a simple said service, was basically normal for a weekday celebration in the Ordinary Form in Australasia (no server, a layperson coming up to read the first reading and later to act as Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion, a short boring homily), excepting:

1. The celebrant said “In the name of the Father…” in Maori:

Ki te ingoa o te Matua, o te Tamaiti, o te Wairua Tapu.

2. In N.Z., the new words and responses for the Ordinary of the Mass are being introduced already; there were booklets provided, endorsed by the local episcopate, which many were using; it was good to say “And with your spirit” (though I noticed some didn’t, I forgot later on, and the priest himself got confused between the old and new words at points, such as during the formulæ of offering up the bread and wine at the Preparation of the Gifts, and in the Embolism – switching over to the new version takes practice).

3. Instead of the responsorial psalm, a portion of Psalm 105 was read chorus contra chorum: I don’t know if this is the correct psalm for today; I do recall that the psalm can be read in this manner, but what of the response? and furthermore, the version was the Grail version, but “inclusified” by replacing references to God as “he/him” with “God” – the manic avoidance of pronouns is very clunky, not to mention illicit – yet this curious translation is in a book printed for the Cathedral!

4. There were, thankfully, no prayers of the faithful: I say so because too often, if the priest asks the congregation to add their own prayers, and as too often all remain seated on their behind rather than standing, the whole thing degenerates into a Quaker prayer meeting rather than integrates into the larger liturgical act.

5. A wooden paten was used – surely Redemptionis Sacramentum reprobates this?  Maybe it was gilded on the inside…

6. To my surprise, no one stood at the Orate fratres, but followed the former practice of standing only for the Prayer over the Gifts – hasn’t N.Z. implemented this yet?  Even in the booklet with the new words there is no mention of this, but it says to stand at the old point instead.  I noticed the same in Italy – even at Mass in St Peter's!

7. Greatly to my shock and scandal (I think I may have gasped), the priest didn’t genuflect or even bow afte elevating the Host, and only bowed, not genuflected, after elevating the Chalice – it is a foolish abuse to only “reverence” the Sacrament once, just perhaps betraying a distorted idea of the consecration of the Host as not complete until the Chalice is also consecrated, or more likely out of misguidedly overzealous liturgical minimalism; at the end of Mass he only bowed (I didn’t notice what he did at the start).  He may have a health problem meaning he cannot genuflect, but otherwise it was a sorry example of gross irreverence that certainly scandalized me and set a bad example for the faithful.  "Irreverence can scarce be separated from impiety" (Council of Trent, Decretum de observandis et evitandis in celebratione missæ, l7th September 1562).

8. The priest elevated, not the paten and chalice, but the Host over the chalice at the Doxology at the end of the Eucharistic Prayer (which was the “Swiss” one, using the variant referring to Christ as Mediator and including “joys and sorrows”, quoting Gaudium et spes).  How amusing that he thus did something Tridentine!

9. The annoying N.Z. modern version of the “Our Father” was used – I cannot bring myself to do so, so I said the traditional one under my breath (their booklet contains both).  Where exactly does permission for this N.Z. peculiarity come from?  Won't it ipso facto be done away with by the new translation, seeing as there will be one English-language Missal?

I shouldn't gripe too much, as I suspect Mass in the vernacular is usually done in a pretty slapdash manner in most places: I joked years ago with a friend that when at Mass in a new place, one tends now to classify the liturgical abuses (and oddities) present as "normal" or "unusual".

And they wonder why – even without any other motive – I prefer the Extraordinary Form...

Newman Sunday

According to my trusty companion to the altar (Juergens, My Daily Missal, 1963), this is the 17th Sunday after Pentecost, ... apparently the parish was keeping, not so much the relevant Sunday in Ordinary Time (I don't know what number, I remain wisely ignorant of that), as the Beatification of John Henry Newman: hooray!

The processional hymn, therefore, was "Firmly I believe and truly", and the recessional, "Praise to the Holiest in the height" – both penned by the Beatus-elect, as part of his great poem The Dream of Gerontius, wherein these stanzas, amongst others, express the faith and trust and hope of the dying "old man" of the title: surely a figure of Everyman.  Likewise, the latter part of the sermon, as also more than a page of the parish bulletin, was all about about-to-be-Blessed John Henry.

Regarding that great poem, it is surely a very deep expression of Newman's profoundly Godward outlook, rightly Oriented toward the true East (as Donne said) – for this was a saint who daily, as well as praying the prayers of preparation for and thanksgiving after Mass in the Breviary or Missal, also recited the prayers for the dying, the Ordo commendationis animæ, which he prayed for his own and all mortal souls: 

• the brief Litanies for the dying – quoted in Newman's Dream of Gerontius;
• the prayer Proficiscere, anima christiana ("Go forth, Christian soul") – versified in Newman's Dream of Gerontius ("Go forth upon thy journey, Christian soul");
• the prayer Deus misericors ("Merciful God");
• the prayer Commendo te omnipotenti Deo ("I commend thee to almighty God");
• the prayer Suscipe, Domine, servum tuum ("Receive, Lord, Thy servant"), set out as versicles and responses – versified in Newman's Dream of Gerontius ("Rescue him, O Lord, in this his evil hour");
• the prayer Commendamus tibi ("We commend unto Thee");
• the prayer Delicta juventutis... ne memineris ("Remember not the sins of his youth");
• the prayer Clementissima Virgo ("Most clement Virgin");
• the prayer Ad te confugio sancte Joseph ("To thee I fly, Saint Joseph");
• and also, perhaps, the suggested aspirations in expiratione, at the time of expiring: Jesu, Jesu, Jesu... In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum... Jesu, Maria, Joseph...

The eight long prayers in particular are most worthy meditations for all, the Cardinal evidently believed, as he taught by his own example.

Did he nightly say even the responsory Subvenite, with preces and collect, for his own soul?  A worthy devotion.

How many of us will have the chance of a deathbed as was the ideal of old, with priest and family gathered to pray as we pass on?  Perhaps our best chance is to pray these prayers now.

In particular, I recall the most saluary prayer, the Hail Mary: every time we say it, we supplicate her to "pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death".  A great consolation!

As for "Firmly I believe and truly", here are the seldom-sung first and last, Latin, verses thereof:

Sanctus fortis, Sanctus Deus,

De profundis oro te,

Miserere, Judex meus,

Parce mihi, Domine.

Sanctus fortis, Sanctus Deus,

De profundis oro te,

Miserere, Judex meus,

Mortis in discrimine.

******

For those curious, I like to read in my Trad. Missal as much of the Proper and Ordinary as possible, while still attending to the Mass going on – so for instance, singing the English paraphrase of the Gloria while reading the Latin, and ditto while saying the Creed.  Some prayers, such as the Domine non sum dignus, I always say in Latin, albeit softly enough for those around not to notice this singularity, I trust.  Using my hand-missal in this way helps me to deal with having perforce to attend the Novus Ordo, when I would far rather go to the Traditional Mass always, but cannot since it is not available here.

Listening to Bruckner in the car to and from Mass also helps – "Locus iste", "Ecce sacerdos magnus", and "Christus factus est", as sung just yester-day at the Pope's Mass in London.

The key to the modern Mass, I find, is attending one offered by a devout priest – some priests by their antics can make it a torture.  Yet, as a friend of mine put it, and he lives in a parish with a vile misbeliever, "Jesus has to come to Mass – so why don't you?".  Too true!  Offering oneself up as a victim soul helps in such circumstances; but when I've had to be at a service that was a congeries of liturgical abuses, I did become horribly upset – I suppose it gives me some tiny inkling of what people suffer when they are the innocent helpless targets of evildoers.

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.

Doctor Who and the Novus Ordo

Thank God for Doctor Who: the episode (this year's series final) that I've just watched was as engrossing and enjoyable to this sci-fi nut as the Novus Ordo I unwillingly attended earlier was craptacular, to use the word of a friend of mine...

Doctor Who was worth it if only for one line: in an alternative universe in which there are no stars at all, the concerned mother of a daughter who thinks that stars might exist is heard to say that she is worried her little girl might join a star cult - "I don't trust that Richard Dawkins" (evidently in that world as barking as he is in this).  Professor Bonkers indeed!

As for bonkers, well, I was lazy, having felt off yester-day, and not at all oriented properly this morning; I did visit several people this after-noon, however, including a poor old priest I know who kindly hears my confessions from time to time.  That done, and after an early dinner (nothing fancy, just truffled chicken roast; we gave the leftovers to the cats), I perforce dragged myself to the banalities of Mass at a certain parish.  As Mother Teresa famously said, I met Jesus to-day in a most distressing disguise.

How about this for unpleasant: the Gospel was not read to us, but instead the kiddies acted it out - of course, the man fallen among thieves was turned into a girl, the priest and levite became businesswomen (at least they shewed both sides of femininity), and the Samaritan a homeless man.  The priest made the usual P.C. modifications to the favourite-because-shortest Eucharistic Prayer II.  As a final indignity, I somehow ended up in the communion line that took me to one of the female altar servers handing out Hosts... and after Communion, the 2nd reading (mysteriously omitted earlier) was read in a saccharine voice while musak was played on a keyboard.  Yetch.  You really couldn't dream this stuff up.

(In fairness, I doubt anyone else there realizes how incorrect and indeed vitiating all this sad mucking about is.)

In order to make Mass bearable, I brought alone my Diurnal, and, having found a quiet side pew right down the back, I filled in the time by reading Terce through to Compline.  If Mass is to be vile and alienating, I can't see why I can't be completely eccentric and odd.

To think how much I valued Mass over in Perth, as this blog in its first year records: how I felt such a part of things, how I sang at Mass, and served Mass, and knew the priest, and looked forward to catching up with my friends afterwards, and all that.  Now, if I didn't know it was my duty to go to Mass on Sundays, frankly I'd not darken the door again.  Thank you, Bugnini, son of the Evil One, and thank you, Paul VI, Pope of stuff-ups!

Thank God for Doctor Who.  He battles monsters and makes the universe safe for children everywhere.  I do wish he would go back in time and tinker a little so that these forty years and more of liturgical and doctrinal confusion never happened.  Ah, as the wit said, Reality is for those who can't stand science fiction.  What a punishment!

Offertories Old and New

The essential difference between the Offertory Rite in the Extraordinary Form of the Mass, and that ("the Preparation of the Gifts")  in the Ordinary Form, is the degree of prolepsis.

Prolepsis - strange word!  What does it mean?  It means a "foreshadowing", a "foretelling", an anticipation (deriving from the Greek verb προλέγω).

We know – as Bishop Elliott reminded us in one of his liturgical handbooks – that the Mass is not a cereal sacrifice.  Furthermore, there is no oblation of bread and wine as such, since clearly such offerings cannot placate the Almighty.  Only insofar as the bread and wine will become the Body and Blood of the One Priest and Victim, Christ Jesus, the Lamb once slain Who lives for ever, do they have value: thus, anticipating their transformation into His Flesh and Blood Most Precious, already at the Offertory they are offered up.

This explains the language used in the Traditional Offertory prayers over the bread and wine and both together – in the Suscipe sancte Pater, the Offerimus tibi Domine, and the Suscipe sancta Trinitas.  The bread and wine are spoken of as already: the "spotless host" offered for all Christians, living and dead, that it profit unto salvation; the "chalice of salvation" whose sweet savour may ascend unto the Lord to avail for the salvation of the whole world; as "this oblation" offered to the Trinity in memory of Christ's saving works, honouring the saints and availing unto our salvation.  It would make no sense to speak of the bread and wine, before the consecration, in such terms except precisely proleptically.

Whence comes this language of prolepsis?  From the language of the Roman Canon itself: at its outset, long before the consecration of the elements by the very Words of the Lord (Verba Domini), the bread and wine are spoken of as hæc dona, hæc munera, hæc sancta sacrificia illibata ("these gifts, these presents, these holy unsullied sacrifices") and as hanc... oblationem, "this oblation".

The Offertory Rite, as the mediævals perceived, is thus already an anticipated doublet of the Canon of the Mass – which is why it was known then as the Canon minor.

The modern Mass, on the other hand, shies away from such full-blooded words.  This reflects the "problem" that theologians of the fifties and sixties had with prolepsis – despite it having been the norm in the Church for many centuries, in the Eastern Rites no less than in the Western.  (Indeed, the Mozarabic Rite is if anything the most proleptic of all, since its elaborate intercessions are offered up, speaking of the sacrifice of the Mass, long before the Preface and Consecration is reached.)

What to substitute for the old prayers?  Bugnini reports in his long apologia for the reform of the liturgy that at one stage, various Scriptural passages were suggested as possible for praying while the bread and wine were readied, such as "Wisdom hath built herself a house, she hath hewn her out seven pillars.  She hath slain her victims, mingled her wine, and set forth her table." (Wisdom ix, 1-2) Then someone had the bright idea of adapting the Jewish table blessings of bread and wine, much as, just perhaps (who can say?), Our Lord did at the Last Supper.  We therefore bless the Lord God of all things for the bread and wine we have to offer (that controversial word "offer" was retained), the produce of plants and of human effort (how didactic!), which will become – what?

It was decided that, unlike in the Ambrosian Rite, to pray directly and in anticipation of the epiclesis that the elements be transsubstantiated would be to anticipate too much (that dratted prolepsis again!), so instead, two poetic phrases were used: "bread of life" and "spiritual drink".  ("Spiritual drink" sounds very meagre, almost risible, in English: whisky is a spirit that we drink, for instance!)  Many commentators have noted that unfortunately (or ecumenically!) these phrases are rather equivocal, neither affirming nor denying the total change of the substance of bread and wine into the Body and Blood.

What has been lost?  There is now, in the Ordinary Form, no prayer in the Preparation of the Gifts offering them for such determinate ends, anticipating the offering up of the Divine Victim to compass our salvation and deliverance from our sins and all other blessings.  What remains?  The Orate fratres and its response, the Suscipiat.  This is a very important prayer: the priest asks the people to pray that the sacrifice that he offers, and that they offer up in union with him, may be acceptable to the Lord, that it may indeed be a true and saving satisfaction and impetration.  The people's response, to the effect that they beg God accept the offered sacrifice, to His praise and glory, and to benefit them and all the holy Church, does teach the truth of the Sacrifice.

The Novus Ordo also, it must be remembered, still retains the In spiritu humilatis, quoting from Daniel iii, 39-40, wherein the priest prays that (as new ICEL puts it), "With humble spirit and contrite heart may we be accepted by you, O Lord, and may our sacrifice in your sight this day be pleasing to you, Lord God."  It is important that sacrificium nostrum... placeat tibi, Domine Deus be read in the strongest sense, as praying that the sacrifice offered – which is Christ – please the Lord, placate Him, appease Him, be a propitiation availing for us men and for our salvation.  Undeniably, however, this is doctrine is deëmphasised in the modern Liturgy relative to the old.

A secondary difference is the degree of what might be called (by moderns) "uncomfortable words", relating to sinfulness and unworthiness.  In the Old Mass, the priest offers the host as a propitiation "for my innumerable sins and offences and negligences" – such a prayer is well-nigh unimaginable in the sunny New Mass!  Yet, strange to say, events of recent times have revealed that priests might well need to beseech forgiveness "for innumerable sins and offences and negligences" - can anyone dispute this, after so many scandals, "so much filth in the Church" as the Pope himself said, yea, as he has just said during his visit to Fatima, the greatest enemies of the Church are the sins of her members!

The Supreme Pontiff formerly known as Cardinal Ratzinger mentioned, while yet in that rank, that Gaudium et spes has passages that sound almost semi-Pelagian in their overconfident view of "modern man".  It is evident that this hubristic spirit is not absent from the liturgy drawn up by those too-optimistic men of the sixties...

Let us be clear, it is worse than foolishness, it is wilful blindness, to speak not of the need to offer God sacrifices in reparation "for... sins and offences and negligences" – are we to continue the pretence that "all is calm, all is bright" and still smile pathetically at Mass, "fiddling while Rome burns"?

Again, though, I must be fair, and note that the priest in the Ordinary Form, while washing his hands, prays the Lava me – "Wash me, Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin" (Psalm 50:4) – so the sense of sin is not entirely lacking in the modern Mass.

Note well: throughout this post I have left the Secret or Prayer over the Gifts out of the discussion!  I well know that this ancient prayer is the very soul of the offertory, since it existed before any other offertory prayers at all were developed and added.  But as to whether the emphasis of the doctrine it conveys has changed in the development of the modern Missal, that is a more complex topic, requiring much careful analysis...

A Few Restorations to the Mass

The Mass of the modern Roman Rite could do with some enrichment from its Traditional forerunner.

Most of the suggestions I am about to make simply give the priest a few more short private prayers to say, to help him in his focus and devotion at the altar – for, if the celebrant be devout, this will conduce to edify the laity.

One very simple and small addition would be, when the priest communicates himself, when he says Corpus / Sanguis Christi custodiat me in vitam æternam, he preface each aspiration with the traditional psalm-verses appointed for this purpose in the all the editions of the Roman Missal down to 1962: before receiving the Host, Panem cælestem accipiam, et nomen Domini invocabo; before drinking from the chalice, Quid retribuam Domino pro omnibus quæ retribuit mihi?  Calicem salutaris accipiam, et nomen Domini invocabo.  ("I will take the bread of heaven and call upon the name of the Lord"; "What shall I render to the Lord for all that he has rendered to me?  I will take the chalice of salvation and call upon the name of the Lord" – Psalm 115:12-13, replacing "chalice of salvation" with "bread of heaven" in the first case.)  This is a gracious and delightful meditation.

A second improvement: at present, when performing the ablutions, the prayer Quod ore sumpsimus is to be said; why not provide Corpus tuum, Domine, its traditional partner, as an alternative, just as is done in the Novus Ordo with the two prayers before communion?  Some could conceivably object that the Quod ore is in the plural, while the Corpus tuum is in the singular – but in fact this better accords with the two alternative prayers before communion, Domine Jesu Christe and Perceptio Corporis, since they are both in the singular.

Ought, say, the Veni sanctificator be restored at the offertory, or "preparation of the gifts" as it is called nowadays?  I would argue not, since the new Eucharistic Prayers all have explicit epicleses, which more than substitute for this prayer.  However, something simply must be done about those dreadful Bugnini twins, "Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation..." – to replace them with some of the many far more devout mediæval offertory prayers would be greatly to be desired.  Certainly, in respect of the chalice, the Offerimus tibi is almost exactly the same length as Benedictus es, Domine... vinum... (65 as against 62 syllables – and if the Amen of the former is made a response, it actually comes in as shorter than the latter with its optional response Benedictus Deus in sæcula, "Blessed be God for ever").

Why not mandate that the priest say privately as he approaches the holy table, "I will go in to the altar of God, to God who gives joy to my youth"?  This small but significant addition would surely help him to focus on what he is doing and the high mysteries he is about to celebrate.

It ought be encouraged that the traditional vesting prayers be said by the priest; and likewise, as was the mediæval custom, that as part of his prayerful preparation – which Canon Law mandates; one wonders how many priests observe this rule! – or even as he goes to the altar, he could pray Psalm 42.  The Missal ought provide Psalm 42 among its selection of prayers for use before and after Mass; similarly, it ought provide the text of the Last Gospel, St John i, 1-14, In principio, as a devout passage warmly commended to be said after leaving the altar.  Our Catholic forebears were so taken with these prayers, one a psalm, the other a Gospel pericope, that insensibly over many generations they came to become de rigueur for use at Mass: surely their devotional value is not spent?

Three Most Untraditional Prayers

Most of the Mass in the Ordinary Form is the same as the corresponding parts of the Mass in the Extraordinary Form, or in an edited version thereof.  

For instance, the modern Confiteor is a shortened and rehashed version of the traditional text; and, given the multiplicity of different versions of the Confiteor since it developed in mediæval times, one more variant is quite reasonable.  Similarly, adding phrases to the Kyrie is a modern revival, albeit in rather different form, of the mediæval practice of adding tropes to the Kyrie.  One could say similar things about having three readings rather than two, changing from a Gradual of two verses to a Responsorial Psalm using more, reviving the mediæval "bidding of the bedes" as the General Intercessions – these forms are related in the broad sense.

The introductory words for the penitential rite seem derived from various mediæval formulæ for the kiss of peace; the Dominus vobiscum is moved from before the Collect to right at the start of the Mass (where two other options are given, one of them being that used in the East at the start of the Anaphora)... more variation!

Many of the prayers at the offertory remain the same or almost so: the prayer at the mixing of the chalice is shortened from its older form and altered in one word; the In spiritu humilitatis and Orate fratres remain unchanged; at the washing of the priest's hands, rather than the psalm verses beginning with Lavabo, instead Ps 50:2, Lava me, is now employed.

But now it is time to reveal my list of three most untraditional prayers:

• the two offertory prayers "Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation...";
• the Memorial Acclamation;
• the doxology "For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours..." ending the Embolism after the Lord's Prayer.

Bugnini's twins, the two made-up offertory prayers derived from Jewish table blessings, are totally untraditional, turning some theories dear to liturgists about how the Eucharist first developed into rather lame effusions to be read at Mass.  And why?  Because, as that fellow candidly admitted, it was feared – feared! – that if no new offertory prayers were made up and imposed, priests would just keep on saying the old ones!  Both prayers are terribly didactic; as Bp Elliott joked in a similar regard, their focus on bread and wine being fruit of the earth and vine, the work of human hands, seems to turn the Eucharist into a cereal offering and a libation.  Both do say "we offer" and are careful to state that these elements do arise from God's bounty as the Creator of all (of the earth, of plants, of human hands), for which we bless Him; both do allude to the coming transsubstantiation of the offered bread and wine into the very Bread of life and that which is our spiritual drink.  All that said, they remain in my estimation sorry substitutes for the rich variety of offertory prayers developed during mediæval times.

The Memorial Acclamation is a complete innovation, featuring in no Western Rite; it is found in the Egyptian or Coptic Rite, in the form "Thy death, Lord, we announce and Thy holy resurrection and ascension we confess" – whence evidently comes the first of the three options for this Acclamation in the modern Roman Rite; the other two, one quoting St Paul, and the other seemingly a mediæval antiphon from Holy Week, are utterly new.  (It goes without saying that the old ICEL paraphrase we've been saddled with these forty years renders these very imperfectly, even managing to turn three options into four!)  As one scholar observed, it would be better to insert these Acclamations after the anamnesis, rather than directly after the Consecration.  I would argue that they take away from the proper emphasis on adoring the Lord at the Elevations, and on therefore joining in offering His Sacrifice made present, remembering His saving works: they ought be suppressed.

It is completely unliturgical to delete the already existing doxology of the Embolism, replace it with one customarily used with the Lord's Prayer alone, and then get everyone to say it together.  Frankly, this is the most Protestant-influenced part of the new Mass, and really grates.  It is as if the liturgical reformers realized that they couldn't add this doxology to the Lord's Prayer itself (where it is found in the Byzantine Rite – but said by the priest alone), since then its link with the Embolism would be broken, so in defiance of all rules they appended it to the Embolism instead.  Worst of all, getting the congregation to say this as a response instead of the expected Amen has encouraged the terrible practice of all and sundry joining in singing or saying the doxology at the end of the Eucharistic Prayer, the Per ipsum.

Some may now have noticed that I write not of the modern multiplicity of Eucharistic Prayers as untraditional: yes, for the moment that question is beyond the scope of this article; I would argue that such multiplicity is now a central characteristic of the modern Roman Rite...

OF and EF

Thoughts for the day:

• "The new the old conceals, the old the new reveals" — the Ordinary Form makes less explicit what the Extraordinary Form makes clear, plain and manifest; thankfully, the E.F., as its hermeneutical key, reveals the hidden significance and proper understanding of the O.F. (this applies to rubrics as well as to doctrine);

• "The old is better" — Our Lord Jesus Christ (Gospel of St Luke v, 39).

Catholic Ærobics

All this kneeling, sitting, and standing at Mass - a friend once called it "Catholic ærobics".

(The Eastern equivalent is the continual crossing of oneself and bowing - making the metanoia - at the Divine Liturgy; their continual standing is itself quite penitential, given the length of the service and the fact that no change of posture is really tolerated, apart from the Catholic practice of kneeling at the consecration, in imitation of the Western Rite; I am aware that the people may sit at certain parts such as the reading of the Epistle, particularly in Western lands where the churches are furnished with pews, but this is likewise not original.)

I got thinking about this topic last night...

Consider, firstly, the customary posture for the faithful at High Mass:

• stand for the entrance of the priest and ministers;
• kneel for the prayers at the foot of the altar;
• stand when the priest ascends to the altar;
• sit if the priest sits for the (Kyrie and) Gloria, given the length of the singing thereof;
• stand for the Collect;
• sit for the Epistle and following chants;
• stand for the Gospel;
• sit for the Homily;
• stand for the Creed (kneeling at the Incarnatus est), remain standing for the salutation Dominus vobiscum and Oremus;
• sit for the Offertory;
• stand to be censed;
• stand for the per omnia sæcula sæculorum, the ensuing Sursum corda dialogue and the Preface;
• kneel for the Sanctus and Canon;
• stand for the Pater noster, Embolism and Pax;
• kneel at the Agnus Dei and remain kneeling until the tabernacle is closed after communion (standing only to go up to the altar rails for communion and to return therefrom), after which one may sit;
• stand for the Dominus vobiscum, Postcommunion and Ite missa est;
• kneel for the blessing;
• stand for the Last Gospel (genuflecting at Et Verbum caro factum est) and for the priest's egress.

(While the above is what I am used to in Australia, Fortescue-O'Connell-Reid suggests instead that the faithful ought continue standing until the Consecration, for which they kneel, only to stand up again for the rest of the Canon!  Similarly, it provides that the people remain standing until Communion, saying nothing of kneeling at the Agnus Dei.  Clearly, the times for kneeling varied widely in the old rite, according to the custom of the place.)

Compare this to the far simpler arrangement for Low Mass (which, while technically overruled and conformed to the High Mass practice in 1960 or 1961, is still observed for Low Mass in most places, as Fortescue-O'Connell-Reid notes):

• stand for the priest's progress to the altar;
• kneel when he begins Mass with the sign of the cross;
• sit for the Epistle (some if not many continue kneeling, but I always sit, following the custom I learnt);
• stand for the Gospel;
• sit for the Homily if there is one;
• stand for the Creed if there is one (genuflecting in the usual place);
• sit for the offertory onwards;
• kneel at the Sanctus, and remain kneeling (but for going to and from the altar rails);
• if desired, sit after the tabernacle is closed, during the ablutions (otherwise remain kneeling);
• stand for the Last Gospel (genuflecting at the usual words);
• stand as the priest leaves.

At the modern form of the Mass, these practices are modified, and the posture observed mainly parallels that at High Mass.

There are two exceptions: the priest, ministers and people no longer kneel for the preparatory, penitential prayers - except in Ireland - and neither do the faithful kneel for the blessing at the end of Mass - again, except in Ireland, where they still do, following what their bishops decreed.

While in the Ordinary Form of Mass there is no provision made for sitting during a long sung Kyrie or Gloria, by custom (as at the Cathedral in Melbourne, and elsewhere, such as the Oxford Oratory) the clergy and people still sit at this point: one can't stay standing forever...

Liturgical scholars sometimes assert that the salutation and Oremus at the start of the offertory in the Extraordinary Form is the remnant of the old intercessory prayers at this point; as these are restored (more or less happily) in the new Mass, quite sensibly all stand for them.

As I discussed in my last post, a small rubrickal change has been recently made in the new Mass: rather than standing for the Prayer over the 'Gifts' (Oblations), now all stand at the Orate fratres - which equates to the Oremus said elsewhere.

Another change in the modern rite compared to the older form - according to the rules observed in English-speaking countries - is that the congregation kneels after the Sanctus and Agnus Dei, rather than when they start.  If these are chanted, or sung to some simple modern tune, both are quite quickly over; however, if both are long-drawn-out settings, it would be sensible to kneel down, rather than stand stupidly while the choir sings on and on...

Observe that these last two rules apply only in some nations, because the universal rule in the Novus Ordo is to stand from the Orate fratres until the end of the whole Mass, excepting only to kneel at the Consecration itself (setting it off from the rest of the Eucharistic Prayer as the sacred moment of transsubstantiation and worship of Christ made present, be it noted), and to sit, if desired, during the silent pause (if any) after communion.

Clearly, the bishops of the U.S.A., of Australia, of England and Wales, and so forth, feeling that it would be cause for scandal among the faithful if they were suddenly told to stand rather than kneel at these accustomed times, obtained - as the current Roman Missal itself permits - permission from Rome for such local adaptations of the rubricks.  Indeed, the current General Instruction goes so far as to say that, where it is the custom of kneeling for the whole Eucharistic Prayer, such a practice may laudably be retained - which is Rome's way of saying it were wished this pious Catholic practice be kept!

As noted above, in Ireland all fall on their knees for the Penitential Rite, directly after the Sign of the Cross and the opening salutation, and likewise observe a kneeling posture for the blessing.  It would be nice, and more in continuity with the traditional practice, to do this at Mass not just in Ireland but elsewhere - I recall that in the aborted 1990's ICEL proposals for Mass in English, one suggested option was precisely to kneel for the penitential prayers (the Confiteor, Kyrie and suchlike) at least in Lent: who could disagree?  When in Italy just last week, noting how there was much more freedom of posture among the different people at Mass, I happily knelt for the blessing when attending the Ordinary Form in Florence: why not!

I still want to find out, though, why it is that the posture of the faithful, both in the old and new forms of Mass, is so divergent in Scotland...