Sunday, August 02, 2015
The Mass, at 7.30pm, will be celebrated by Father James Bradley, who will also preach. He will be assisted by Father Paul Scalia (Arlington) and Father Daniel Richards (Harrisburg). The Mass will be sung to the plainchant Propers and Ordinary. Further details are available here.
Saturday, August 01, 2015
Here are snapshots of the NLM from different periods of its history.
— 2007 —
— 2010 —
Many thanks to all of our readers who have supported us over the past ten years. And thanks to NLM founder Shawn Tribe and to all of the writers who have contributed to this blog.
From the managing editor: On behalf of our editor Jeffrey Tucker and all our writers and support staff, I would also like to thank all of those who have contributed guest articles and photographs to the NLM, all of our readers, those who have offered us encouragement (and some constructive criticisms), and those who have contributed to the discussions in the comboxes. God bless you all! - Gregory
Friday, July 31, 2015
|A state of St Germanus in the Parisian church of St Germain l’Auxerrois (image from wikipedia by Mbzt)|
Pelagius himself was a Briton, and in the early 5th century his heresy was flourishing in his native place. In 429 Pope St Celestine I and the bishops of Gaul sent Germanus, accompanied by St Lupus of Troyes, to Britain, to combat the heresy; they reduced Pelagius’ followers to silence not only by their overwhelming success in a public debate, but also by their example of holiness and various miracles. St Germanus’ triumph would be capped by a second visit to Britain in 440 to stop a new outbreak of the heresy, after which, (as St Bede will note with pride in the 8th century), Britain remained true to the Catholic Faith until the Reformation.
During his first visit to Britain, the Romanized Britons, whose province had been abandoned by the Roman Empire in 410, were threatened with invasion by the Picts and Saxons. After Easter, as the weather grew milder and an enemy attack seemed imminent, Germanus led the forces of the Britons’ to a place between two mountains with a strong echo. As the Saxons drew near, he had them all shout “Alleluia” as loudly as they could; the resulting noise terrified the Saxons into thinking the Britons’ army was much larger than it really was, and they threw down their arms and fled. In the neo-Gallican Missal of Paris, the Alleluia verse for his feast is chosen based on this story. “Alleluia, I heard the voice of many people, saying: Alleluia. Salvation, and glory, and power is to our God. And again they said: Alleluia.”
The great Catholic writer and apologist Hilaire Belloc, who was French on his father’s side and English on his mother’s, wrote a very funny drinking song in honor of St Germanus and his defeat of the Pelagian heresy; it is included in his novel “The Four Men – A Farrago”, first published in 1911.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Br. Nathan was a monk of Saint Vincent Archabbey in Latrobe, Pennsylvania, where he taught art and music at Saint Vincent College and served as curator and director of The Saint Vincent Gallery for over 20 years. He is most well-known for his works as the Canadian and U.S.A. Delegate for the Kaiser-Karl-Gebetsliga für den Völkerfreiden, (Emperor Karl League of Prayers for Peace Among the Nations). He worked at Vatican City as the special secretary for the Beatification of Emperor Karl I of Austria. He received the Signum Memoriae Civilian Medal of Honor from H.I.R.H. Otto von Habsburg, Archduke and Crown Prince of Austria and King of Hungary; this was the first time the medal had been bestowed since 1898, and was presented in honor of Archduke Otto’s 95th birthday. Br. Nathan also initiated a Nationwide Juried Catholic Art Exhibition; for the such exhibit, he enlisted famed British art historian Sister Wendy Beckett to serve as judge. She praised his endeavors, noting that “artists often come to understand their faith by the actual creation of artworks. We need these artworks, these attempts by artists known or unknown, to share with us their understanding of what it means to be a Christian. Would that there were hundreds of Brother Nathans in all countries!”
In the video of the complete ceremony below, the homilist speaks about this concern for beauty and art in the Church. The Mass had a large attendance and was the first time a Requiem High Mass has been celebrated in the Saint Vincent Archabbey Basilica in over 50 years.
To learn more about Br. Nathan, visit: http://gallery.stvincent.edu/brother-nathan
Link to Amazon.com
Link to Amazon.uk
—JOHN RAO, author of Black Legends and the Light of the World and Removing the Blindfold
“For Catholics feeling lost at sea as a result of the turbulent crisis tossing and flooding the Barque of Peter, Henry Sire’s work identifies clear landmarks to steady our gaze. He situates the present disarray within the larger historical context of the Arian heresy and Protestant revolution, and points to the buoys of tradition — liturgical, doctrinal, and philosophical—as sure guides to our way out. Sire distills entire epochs of history, from the first centuries of the Church through the current pontificate, into a highly readable and thought-provoking story. In the course of his tale he exposes the radical progressivism of the Second Vatican Council and its after-effects as well as the tepid conservatism of the Reform of the Reform and the Hermeneutic of Continuity.”
—BRIAN M. MCCALL, author of To Build the City of God
“Historian H.J.A. Sire has compiled a balanced assessment of the revolution in the Roman Catholic Church. His mastery of the material is complete. The book flows along easily and readers will finish it confident that they have a comprehensive understanding of the last 60 years in the Church.”
—ROGER MCCAFFREY, President, Roman Catholic Books
“Thanks to Henry Sire’s penetrating book, we have some profound answers to nagging questions. How did the West end up so quickly in a post-Christian age, when only decades ago one could still speak of a Christian culture? How did we go from the seemingly healthy Roman Catholic Church of the 1950s to the mass apostasy and grave scandals of recent years? As Sire shows, the antecedents go back quite far, in fact many centuries, but the possibility of healing and regeneration is not as remote as we think.”
—STEPHEN KLIMCZUK-MASSION, Senior Adviser, Hildebrand Project
About the Author
H. J. A. SIRE was born in 1949 in Barcelona of a family of French ancestry and was educated in England, at Stonyhurst College and at Exeter College, Oxford, where he took a degree in Modern History. He has written several books on subjects of Catholic history and biography and currently lives in Rome, where he works professionally as a historian.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Fr Charles Byrd, pastor of Our Lady of the Mountains in Jasper, Georgia, here writes about his encounter with a man who wasn’t quite sure his church was Catholic, because the liturgy was done with some care for beauty. Our thanks to Fr Byrd for sharing this with our readers.
From the shadows emerged a man I had never met before, who was obviously visiting for the first time, and who had evidently been waiting to speak to me last, once the crowds had cleared out. He was an older gentleman. You could tell by his stance and the diplomatic caution with which he was trying to form his question that he really didn’t want to be rude, but he needed some clarification. I could tell his heart was troubled, so I stopped to hear him out. He asked “Father, excuse me, but might I ask … is this parish under the auspices of the Holy See … that is to say the Pope?” To which I responded, “Yes sir, we are.” But he still needed further clarification “So then this parish is under the Archdiocese?” And again, I assured him, “Yes sir, we are.” He seemed relieved, and smiled, and just to make sure he said “Well, you see, Father, there are some parishes that claim to be Catholic but they really aren’t.” I nodded and assured him we were really Roman Catholic and in communion with the Pope.
Evidently, our guest was trying to make sure we really were not a schismatic parish. The reason this is so ironic is because it was summer, and during ordinary time our Mass parts are ordinarily sung in English. I mean we sung a Kyrie in Greek, but the rest of the Mass was entirely in the vernacular. Looking back over the liturgy in fact, there was not even a peep of Latin in any other part of that Mass. The summer break means there was no choir, and so it was a Mass with a cantor and an organist. All the proper chants were done in English. There was a hymn after communion and a hymn at the recessional, but both of these were in English too. My point is this was a congregational singing Mass … there were none of the anthems or polyphonic offerings we might hear when our choir gathers.
I also recall that some of our altar servers had failed to show up that Sunday so all we had were two servers for that Mass, which is unusual for us. One was the crucifer and the other was the thurifer. Moreover, our deacon’s dear wife was not well, so we had no deacon that weekend either. Consequently the liturgy was a bit sparse for us. I remember that I had preached briefly on the new stained glass windows in the narthex, and that we had prayed the Roman Canon that Sunday (again, in English, and versus populum). We had prayed for the pope and bishops in the anaphora and in the prayers of the faithful, and we had prayed for the cardinals in the upcoming Synod for the Family, that they would uphold the teachings of our Founder, and yet still, this gentleman wanted to make sure that we were Catholic.
This is a funny story, but it is also a sad one. You see this kind man wanted us to be Catholic, but he wasn’t sure we were Catholic because, well, we seemed to be really Catholic. I am not even sure he communicated that Sunday, so concerned was he that we might not really be Catholics (though he came back later that week for a daily Mass, and came up for Communion). Still this story demonstrates a point that needs to sink in. Our little parish does use Latin Mass parts seasonally, and our choirs will sing in Latin motets here and there, but none were heard that Sunday. Our rural parish doesn’t offer the Extraordinary Form Mass, though we might pray the Roman Canon in Latin but once a year. We routinely sing the dialogue prayers and presiding prayers on Sundays, and our cantor or choirs sing every sequence they can throughout the year, but again these are sung in English, and we almost never sing the Gospel. Our Sunday Masses are usually over within an hour, and if they go longer, it is because most folks come to the choir Mass, and those communion lines are longer (I’m sorry, but communion rails were just so much faster). The point is, our parish tries but we aren’t overly fussy about things (especially in the summer). This is not a city parish with lots of money and loads of nearby professional musicians for hire. We like to think of ourselves as poor, but classy, but we are decidedly rural and small. Nevertheless, because we are mindful of the liturgy, and because we sing the propers, and because our liturgies are noble and dignified, this confused guest presumed we must not really be Catholic.
What does that say about what is going on in other parishes?
I later came to find out that our guest was a Fourth Degree Knight of Columbus. He was an ordinary Catholic man who wanted nothing more than to be a good Catholic. And I have to say he was so happy to find an ordinary Catholic parish that offered the Mass with dignity. I won’t be surprised if he makes us his permanent home. As a Catholic priest, I would like to challenge other parishes to consider this story. Keep in mind that I have nothing against the Extraordinary Form of the Mass. We’re just so small and rural, and I am all alone as a priest in the county, and swamped, and I want to bring unity to my parish. So we forge ahead the best we can out here. But I get a lot of folks driving up from the suburbs looking for something different. Why? I think it is because too often in the frenetic delirium to be relevant and up-to-date, and to try to reach the masses, we Catholics may just be losing the masses. So maybe it is time we paid more attention to the Mass. Seems to me what we need is stability and sanity. Just saying.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
1. Liturgical Law in Sacrosanctum Concilium and its Implementation - Raymond Leo Cardinal Burke
2. Liturgical Translations and Two Instructions in Perspective - George Cardinal Pell
3. The Mass as the Sacrifice of Christ and the Church according to Sacrosanctum Concilium - Robert L. Fastiggi
4. Sacrosanctum Concilium: A Review of the Theological Critique - Mariusz Biliniewicz
5. The Hermeneutic of Sacrosanctum Concilium and the Liturgical Renewal - Helmut Hoping
6. Liturgical Reform and the Unity of Dogma and Prayer - Serafino M. Lanzetta, F.I.
7. Active Participation in the Renewal and Promotion of the Liturgy of Vatican Council II - Paul Gunter, O.S.B.
8. Sacrosanctum Concilium on the Liturgy in the Apostolic Life of the Church - Carmina Chapp
9. The Dogmatic Discussion on Concelebration from Sacrosanctum Concilium to the Present - Manfred Hauke
10. Sharing in Jesus’ Self-gift (Benedict XVI). On the Theology of the Extraordinary Form of the Mass in the Light of Vatican Council II - Sven Leo Conrad FSSP
11. The Anaphora of the Apostles Addai and Mari and the Narrative of Institution - Robert Abeynaike, O.Cist.
Monday, July 27, 2015
It was one of the great complaints of the Liturgical Movement prior to the Council that Catholics, generally speaking, did not possess an intimate knowledge of the treasure of their liturgy or cherish a particularly intense desire to live “under the sign” of liturgical seasons and feasts. A combination of clericalism and growing secularization had removed many of the faithful from close contact with the sacred mysteries conducted in the church, and a rift appeared to yawn between the social aspect of Christianity, its mission in the needy world of today, and the ritual enactment of age-old, august ceremonies. In spite of a whirl of contrary currents in the aula, the view prevailed at the Second Vatican Council that the liturgy is the fons et culmen of the Church, the “font and apex” (or “source and summit”) of the Christian life — a conclusion that would surely have sounded fairly strange back then, but not quite as strange as it does now, when it is well-nigh incomprehensible.
Have we not known Catholics who, in spite of their sincere faith, don’t seem to “get it” when it comes to the liturgy? People who could not possibly agree with the statement that it is the “source and summit” of who they are, what they do, why they live, where they are going, and how they will get there? It seems that Cardinal George was so right when he once quipped: “American Catholics are Protestants who go to Mass on Sundays.” A nefarious combination of individualism and collectivism prevents many Catholics, regardless of their level of education, from perceiving the loss of the liturgical spirit in the context of the Ordinary Form, the loss of the primacy of the transcendent and of adoration. It impedes them, too, from longing for something more authentically Catholic and reaching out for it even when it is available to them in their own neighborhood. The individualism makes us wear blinkers and settle for a minimum criterion, namely, “what works for me”; the collectivism encourages a herd mentality that blocks common sense, legitimate critical thinking, and the desire for better things.
In the end, it simply seems that other things are more important in life than the liturgy. It does not come first and last; it does not take precedence and determine the shape of our days, weeks, years. Let’s face it: for such Catholics, Vatican II was wrong about the “font and apex” business, just as far too many might say Paul VI was wrong in Humanae Vitae, or John Paul II in Ordinatio Sacerdotalis.
It is a great irony of the postconciliar period that the Catholics today who are taking the sacred liturgy most seriously — the ones who are, quite conscientiously, building their everyday lives on it and around it, following its seasons, frequently the sacraments and using the sacramentals — are the faithful flocking to the traditional Latin Mass, especially where it is offered as the daily fare of a dedicated chapel or parish. The churches where the “unreformed” Mass is celebrated are exhibiting to the Church at large what the Council itself meant by “living a liturgical life” by the “spirit and power” of the liturgy itself. They are largely the ones buying books like Mary Reed Newland’s We and Our Children: How to Make a Catholic Home and David Clayton’s The Little Oratory.
Additional ironies include the fact that there is, in many ways, more active participation going on in these communities than is normal throughout the mainstream church (see here), that the magisterium of John Paul II on such topics as marriage and family and the importance of sacramental confession is being much more consistently implemented in them, and that, by every standard of Catholic identity and mission, they are rock-solid and energetic. How could this be surprising, if what Vatican II said about the liturgy is actually true, and that truth is put into practice?
Apart from these enclaves, however, it seems to me that we are further away than ever from recovering a genuinely Catholic perception and experience of the sacred liturgy as the foundational, central, and definitive activity of the Catholic, the origin of our identity, the purpose of our existence on earth. This is not to say our identity is exhausted in the liturgy or that we do not need to pursue subordinate goods as well. What it does mean is that the beginning of our life is baptism and that the culmination of our friendship with God in this life, as well as our most vital means of staying alive, is communion with the flesh and blood reality of our Lord. Apart from these, we have no life within us, and we have no life to give to the world. We are Christians insofar as we are sacramental, liturgical, and eucharistic — and not otherwise. Even our works of charity are Christian only if they are thoroughly steeped in the worship of God and the Spirit of Christ, which we drink in through the liturgy of His Church.
It seems to me that one reason we are further than ever from developing and practicing these habits is that, with the modern liturgy being so shallow, horizontal, and mutable, we are not really willing to allow it to be the foundational, central, and definitive activity of our lives as Catholics. Unconsciously, we sense that it cannot serve the purpose: it is too exiguous, too amorphous, too human, too insubstantial. As P. G. Wodehouse would say, “It fails to grip.” Not being either the contemplative reservoir of the Low Mass or the majestic pageant of the High Mass, it comes and goes without seizing hold of our imaginations and our hearts. If we continue to attend it week after week, it is from a sense of duty and a fondness for community. If, like increasing numbers of Catholics, we drift away, it is probably because there was not much to drift away from. Modern Catholics have been given “Doctrine Lite” and “Worship Lite,” instead of an all-embracing and all-demanding philosophy of life that aims at total immersion in the Mystery of God. The latter is worth living and dying for. But the former . . . ?
 I am reminded here of the words of the Presocratic philosopher Heraclitus (ca. 535–475 BC): “For though all things come into being in accordance with this logos, men seem as if they had never met with it, when they meet with words and actions such as I expound, separating each thing according to its nature and explaining how it is made. As for the rest of mankind, they are unaware of what they are doing after they wake, just as they forget what they did while asleep. What intelligence or understanding have they? They believe the popular singers, and take as their teacher the populace, not knowing that the majority are bad and the good are few.”
On the public, objective, and (in a sense) non-emotional nature of the liturgy, see the excerpts I posted here from the opening chapter of Guardini’s Spirit of the Liturgy.
 As Vatican II points out: see Sacrosanctum Concilium 9.
 See Benedict Constable, "Attending the Traditional Mass: Well Worth the Effort."