Birthday, Confession and First Communion

Again my birthday has rolled around, my forty-second; I seem to recall that "42" was alleged in a sci-fi novel to be 'the answer' to life, the universe and everything, which raised the issue of what the question was in the first place! 

Today being Saturday, I had a nice sleep-in after a pleasant eve-of-birthday dinner with family at the local Chinese restaurant last night; then it was off to Confession at Apostles as is my weekly custom… I had hoped to be early enough to be first in line (I believe strongly in being as quick and to the point as possible when confessing), and arrived just before the priest at 10 am, but as it was I was fourth, and didn't get out of the box till twenty past. At least I had time to say Mattins and pray a little more whilst waiting.

Then I had to drive as fast as lawfully allowed to Glengarry, where (at the little country church of St Canice – "in-the-fields", as Fr Allan used to say) I was expected to sing at a special Missa cantata for the First Communion of the daughter of some friends of mine. I was also bringing the Mass booklets for the congregation, the music for the rest of the choir, the altar cards and the altar missal! 

Luckily, after I arrived, I found that Mass wasn't going to start strictly on time after all, so I could relax. However, I did have a near-miss: for when rushing to put the altar cards in place, I leaned the central card against the crucifix as usual, only to have the crucifix fall backwards against the stained-glass window behind the altar, somehow avoiding breaking it, but bending the crucifix (though Fr Suresh was able to bend it back into shape).

The Mass – of St Elizabeth of Hungary, with commemoration of Pope St Pontian – was beautiful: beforehand, we sang Veni Creator Spiritus; we psalm-toned the Propers, chanted the Messe Royale for the Ordinary, and during the Offertory sang Jesu dulcis memoria, after Communion, Ave verum, during the Last Gospel, the simple Salve, and for a recessional, Faber's devout hymn, "Jesus, my Lord, my God, my all". It was good to sing with the choir, since the 2nd M.C. had come up from Hobart, so I didn't have to serve as I usually do. Fr Suresh preached a special sermon about the Blessed Eucharist, especially for our first communicant. Afterward, in the adjoining church hall, we had a delightful celebration.

Of your charity, please pray for Peter, the father of an old friend I met at the First Communion party: I was shocked to learn that he is very ill with cancer.

I drove home along some of the quiet country roads in the district, through patches of bushland interspersed with farmland. Family members had given me a bottle of gin for my birthday, so I had a G&T once I got back, to celebrate. Then, it was time for some gardening, before heading off to the parish Vigil Mass of Christ the King (I sang with the choir, and read the first reading). Somewhat oddly, I then had Mexican for tea. All in all, a happy birthday.

Saints' Days

Happy birthday to Fr Greg Bourke, a Melbourne priest who was born on this day and was named for St Gregory the Wonderworker, whose feast it then was. St Gregory it was who actually did move a mountain (hence his name), who received revelation from St John the Evangelist of a very Catholic creed, and who, upon his deathbed, gave thanks to God that through his ministry, the Christians in his city had so multiplied in number that, where there had been but ten when he arrived, by his departure there remained but ten pagans.

To-day the Anglican Use keeps the memory of St Elizabeth of Hungary; and, yesterday, of St Gertrude the Great (who crops up one day earlier in the Traditional Calendar) and of St Margaret of Scotland - the latter always reminds me of a nice old lady who told me that she was a Scottish Episcopalian (once quite a decent High lot, who've gone to the dogs), and that "Our church was founded by St Margaret of Scotland". (Yeah, right.) I forbore to tell her that my Church was founded by Jesus Christ.

Server's Privilege

Pursuant to an earlier post, to-day marked my birthday, and Fr Rowe very kindly offered Mass this afternoon for me; it was decided that it was best (since he'd earlier said Mass of St Elizabeth of Hungary) to say Mass of Pope St Pontian (Mass Si diligis me, from the Common of One or Several Supreme Pontiffs), with commemoration of St Elizabeth and third collect (sub una conclusione) of thanksgiving.

These special orations are instructive, as well as descriptive of the innumerable unmerited graces I have received in my unworthy yet remarkably blessed life:

Deus, cujus misericordiæ non est numerus, et bonitatis infinitus est thesaurus: piissimæ majestati tuae pro collatis donis gratias agimus, tuam semper clementiam exorantes; ut qui petentibus postulata concedis, eosdem non deserens, ad præmia futura disponas.  Per...

(God, of Whose mercy there is no number, and of Whose goodness the treasure is infinite: we give thanks to Thy most kindly Majesty for the gifts , ever beseeching Thy clemency, that Thou who to petitioners grantest things asked for, never deserting the same, prepare them for future rewards.  Through... )

Odorem, Domine, sacrificii hujus cum gratiarum actionibus suscipe, et præsta: ut quos exaudire, et incolumes servare dignatus es, ab omni in posterum adversitate custodias; et in tuo servitio, et amore concrescant.  Per...

(Receive the savour, Lord, of this sacrifice with our thanksgivings, and grant: that those whom Thou hast deigned to hear and to conserve safe, Thou mayest keep henceforth from all adversity, to increase both in Thy service and in Thy love.  Through...)

Deus, qui neminem in te sperantem, nimium affligi permittis, sed pium precibus præstas auditum: pro postulationibus nostris votisque susceptis gratias agimus, te piissime deprecantes; ut per hæc quae sumpsimus, a cunctis eripi mereamur adversis.  Per...

(God, Who permittest no one hoping in Thee to be afflicted overmuch, but grantest a kindly hearing to their prayers; for having received our entreaties and desires we give thanks, humbly praying Thee O most kind, that by These Which we have received, we may deserve to be delivered from all adversities.  Through...)

It was my privilege to serve this Mass, the pleading of the one Sacrifice of Christ made present for the living and the dead, to receive Our Lord in Holy Communion - and afterward to exercise server's privilege - that is, to drink what was left in the wine cruet!  As students of liturgy will know, this is the last trace of the purificatory draught of wine formerly ministered to communicants to as it were wash down the Sacrament; as is still done in the Carmelite Rite, which my old friend Br Peter now daily attends (and so likewise receives this ablutio oris) since his joining the Carmelite Monks of Wyoming.

Having thus had "a little wine for [my] stomach", and before Mass having said Matins and earlier the rest of the Office bar Vespers and Compline, I'll finish them off later and soon enough, once joined by a friend (all the other housemates being away down South, or at least out to-night), will broach a bottle of Tasmanian bubbly - Clover Hill (vintage 2003) - for to celebrate my natal day.

But that's not the end of festivities: to-morrow I'm to have dinner with a dear relative of mine...