Two Recent Articles on Sacred Music

Readers may find interesting two recent articles by Trent Beattie concerning the ever-fresh subject of sacred music.

A fun look at what is and is not allowed in Mass... 

Is it possible for the love of sacred music to go too far?  Comparing the Church’s directives with practical parish realities can often reveal a gap...

It is the duty of the priest to pray the Mass, but it does not follow that he is required to fill “empty spaces” therein with a multiplication of required prayers or the addition of prayers not even called for – no matter how beautiful they might be in themselves.

As silence accompanies the Consecration of the bread and wine, it is fitting to have silence at the consecration of ourselves – that is, when receiving Holy Communion.

Even if a parish choir does not sing vernacular hymns, it can still fall prey to the notion that wall-to-wall singing of some sort must accompany reception of Holy Communion.

Read more in “The Wills Are Alive with a Mound of Music.”

Extensive Q&A with Christopher Jasper of the Gregorian Chant Academy

Although someone may agree in principle that we should become more skilled in the Church’s music, there can be real hurdles to overcome in achieving the desired proficiency. Christopher Jasper has created highly popular online courses for success in that realm…

The singers may be very holy and operate with the best of intentions, but if they lack the musical abilities to do the music justice, well, that can be detrimental to those who hear it. It can be distracting or sometimes outright painful to listen to.

On the other hand, when most people, regardless of religion, do hear chant or polyphony sung very well – especially if they hear it live and in a beautiful church – are typically very moved by it and immediately sense the sacrality and transcendence of this kind of music.

Read more in “Enchanted by the Music of the Church.”

The Fraction and Commingling

Lost in Translation #166

As the priest says the adjuration to the Embolism (per eumdem Dominum nostrum…), he breaks the Host in two and then breaks off a small particle. Laying down the two large halves on the paten, he holds the particle over the chalice, makes the sign of the cross three times with it, and says Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum, that is, “May the peace of the Lord be with you always.” The servers, congregation, or choir reply: Et cum spiritu tuo. The priest then drops the particle into the chalice as he says:

Haec commixtio et consecratio Corporis et Sanguinis Domini nostri Jesu Christi, fiat accipientibus nobis in vitam aeternam. Amen.

Which I translate as:

May this mingling and consecrating of the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ be, for us who are receiving it, for life everlasting. Amen.

Since the Middle Ages, the actions accompanying this prayer have been interpreted allegorically. As we noted in an earlier post, the death of Our Lord Jesus Christ is mystically represented at the Canon’s closing doxology by five signs of the cross, the first three hearkening to His three hours on the Cross and the last two signifying the separation of Christ’s soul from His body. And according to William Durandus, the three prayers that follow the Canon – the Praeceptis salutaribus, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Embolism – remind us of the three days that Our Lord’s body lay lifeless in the Sepulcher. [1]

Following this line of thought, the separation of the two halves of the Host represents the cleaving of Christ’s flesh when the soldier pierced His side with a lance (John 19, 34), while the placement of the particle in the chalice represents the Resurrection, the reunion of Christ’s body, blood, and soul. On Good Friday, Christ’s blood was separated from His body (tradition holds that He was all but exsanguinated) and His soul from His body, His soul descending to limbo and His body placed in the Sepulcher. (His divinity, on the other hand, remained present to all three). On that first Easter Sunday, all that had been sundered on Good Friday was reunited and glorified, never to be separated again.

The 1970 Missal lacks this symbolism, in part because the fraction rite was moved to a different location (which we will discuss in a later post). A.W.J. Keyzer writes of this part of the Novus Ordo:

The meaning of the fractio panis is ambiguous. It is a sign of unity. We participate in the one bread, we are part of it. This sign of unity concerns the community itself. It is also a sign of unity with Christ. A second meaning of the fractio panis lies in the breaking itself. The breaking, taken literally, is a condition for participation. The first Christians recognized the Lord in this ritual; it is even the name for Missa. In number 130, no prescriptions are included regarding the proper manner in which the host should be broken. The host is broken into a number of pieces, one of which is placed in the chalice. [2]

Peter J. Elliott concurs:

The third moment in the fourfold action of Jesus Christ is the “Breaking of the Bread”, or fraction. This practical action signifies that, in Communion, the many faithful are made one body in Christ, the one Bread (cf. 1 Corinthians 10, 17)….The breaking of the Host(s) is carried out over the paten(s), not over the chalice(s). [3]

All rites, Eastern and Western, have a fraction rite in which a particle from a newly consecrated Host is placed into the newly consecrated Precious Blood, but the city of Rome had two additional practices. First, in the titular churches, a particle of a Host consecrated at a papal Mass called the fermentum was dropped into the chalice to signify the presbyterate’s unity with their bishop. (Fortescue speculates that the Latin fermentum was chosen for this particle in part to convey the idea that it unites the bishop to his priests as leaven unites bread.) [4] Second, there was another custom of dropping a particle of a Host consecrated at a previous Mass (this one called the sancta) to express “the continuous unity of the eucharistic sacrifice” from one Mass to the next. [5]

No custom, however, quite explains the appearance of consecratio in the prayer, which gives the impression that the Host and Precious Blood have not yet been consecrated – and if they have been consecrated (and of course they have), it seems pointless to consecrate now what was maximally consecrated at the Words of Institution. Finally, there is something mildly ironic about using “consecration,” which means to set apart, in a prayer that is recited when putting two things together. The word choice was so perplexing that it was a topic of conversation at the Council of Trent. [6] Jungmann’s interpretation is:

The word consecratio, which stayed in the text in spite of the objections brought against it, and in spite of the fact that it was missing in some medieval texts here and there, must be rendered by “hallowing” in the sense that through the commingling a sacred token or symbol is effected in the sacramental species and mediately in the Body and Blood of Christ. [7]

I also believe that the word can be translated in light of the symbolic action that it accompanies. If we keep in mind that the chalice containing the particle represents the Risen Lord, I suggest the following: “May this coming together and setting apart of the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ…” The “coming together” alludes to the Resurrection, and the “setting apart” can refer to Christ’s glorified Body, which is set apart insofar as it is different from our current bodies and certainly more special. The Ambrosian Rite uses the formula: Haec commixtio consecrati corporis et sanguinis, “This mingling of the consecrated body and blood of Christ.” No doubt, “consecrated” refers to the sacramental action that has just taken place, but it too can be construed in a wider sense as Christ’s glorified Body.

“Hard sayings” are not the Novus Ordo’s forte, and so the offending word was removed in the 1970 Missal. The current prayer is:

Hac commixtio Corporis et Sanguinis Domini nostri Iesu Christi fiat accipientibus nobis in vitam aternam. No. 129

Which both the 1985 and 2011 ICEL versions translate as:

May this mingling of the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ bring eternal life to us who receive it.

Most other translations follow suit, although oddly, the Mexican, Italian, and French versions add the line “united in this chalice” after “Lord Jesus Christ.” [8] If anyone knows the back story to this interpolation (or any other modern vernacular translations, I am all ears (in the Commm box).

Notes

[1] William Durandus, Rationale Divinorum Officionorum IV.47.3.

[2] A.W.J. Keyzer, Om voor Gods gelaat te staan. Een expositio missae (Baarn: Gooi & Sticht, 1999), 193.

[3] Peter J. Elliott, Ceremonies of the Modern Roman Rite, 2nd ed. (Ignatius Press, 2005), nos. 324 and 325.

[4] Fortescue, 24.

[5] Jungmann, vol. 2, 312.

[6] See Jungmann, 311-313.

[7] Jungmann, 316.

[8] The Mexican Missal has El Cuerpo y la Sangre de nuestro Señor Jesucristo, unidos en este cáliz, sean para nosotros alimento de vida eterna. The third edition of the Italian Missal has Il Corpo e il Sangue del Signore nostro Gesù Cristo, uniti in questo calice, siano per noi cibo di vita eterna (p. 447). And the French has Que le Corps et le Sang de notre Seigneur Jésus Christ, réunis dans cette coupe, nourrissent en nous la vie éternelle.

Notes on the Slavonic Feast of Saint Elias

Many thanks to Mr Danijel Uremović for sharing with us this article about the feast of the Prophet Elijah, which was celebrated on Monday, and figures prominently in the tradition of the Glagolitic Missal used in his native Croatia, and in some other regions of the Balkan peninsula. We recently published his account of a Glagolitic Mass celebrated in Sydney, Australia, for the local Croatian community, on the feast of the Precious Blood. 

While the veneration of Old Testament figures is largely associated with the liturgy of the Eastern Churches, commemorations of the saints who lived prior to Christ’s Incarnation are not entirely foreign to the Western tradition. Bosnia and Herzegovina, along with the Carmelite order, enjoys the patronage of the holy prophet Elijah, celebrating his feast on the twentieth of July. Though differing slightly at certain points from the texts traditionally used by the Carmelites, the liturgy given in the 1927 Rimski Misal (that is, the traditional Roman missal translated into Church Slavonic) is particularly beautiful, focusing on the prophet’s flaming zeal, constant intercession, and heavenly-mindedness, as well as the virtue of true worship. In the Introit of the Mass (English texts adapted from the 1953 Carmelite Daily Missal and Douay Rheims Bible) for instance, we hear:

Introit 3 Kings 19:10, Ps. 29, 2 I am all jealousy for the honor of the Lord God of hosts, replied Elias to the Lord; see how the sons of Israel have forsaken thy covenant, thrown down thy altars, and put thy prophets to the sword. Of these, only I am left, and now my life too is forfeit. Praise to thee, Lord: thou hast taken me under thy protection and baulked my enemies of their will.

The beginning of the Mass of St Elijah in the 1927 edition of the Glagolitic Missal, which uses the Latin alphabet...

and in the 1893 edition, which uses the ancient Glagolitic script.

Such “jealousy” for the Lord, according to certain versions of the story, plays into the very establishment of this feast among the faithful of Bosnia and Herzegovina. When Bishop Pavao Dragičević sought from the Vatican a new patron for his people, Rome’s response was supposedly, “a wild saint for a wild people.” Another explanation, however, is that the common veneration of Elijah by Catholics, Orthodox, and Muslims (the three major religions of Bosnia and Herzegovina) made him a suitable choice. Another interesting feature of the Introit comes with its use of the word “vrag.” While its basic sense in Slavonic is indeed that of an “enemy,” speakers of modern Croatian would immediately make the connection with the true enemy, the “devil,” against whom the zeal exemplified by the prophet is most fittingly directed.

The next three propers, along with the readings from Sirach 48, 1-10 and Matthew 17,1-9 turn upon the imagery of Elijah taken up into heavenly glory.

Collect Grant, we beseech thee, almighty God: that we, who believe thy Prophet the blessed Elias to have been wondrously taken up in a fiery chariot, may, through his intercession, be lifted up to the things of heaven, and rejoice with him in the company of your saints.

Gradual 4 Kings 2, 1; 11 And it came to pass, when the Lord would take up Elias into heaven by a whirlwind, that Elias and Eliseus were going from Galgal. V. And as they went on, walking and talking together, behold a fiery chariot, and fiery horses parted them both asunder: and Elias went up by a whirlwind into heaven.

Alleluia, alleluia. 1 Macc. 2, 58; Sir. 48, 9 Elias, while he was full of zeal for the law, was taken up into heaven. Alleluia.

While the well-known episode of Elijah being taken up in a flaming chariot suggests an obvious destination, it is only during the Transfiguration that we see, with Peter, James, and John, the true Christological shape of the divine life to which the prophet was called. This celestial motif, notably, impressed itself upon the popular imagination of the Slavs and provides one of many examples of the Christian transfiguration of pagan religion: No longer Perun, god of thunder and lighting, but “Ilija Gromovnik – Elijah the Thunderer”.

While the Offertory prayer certainly brings to mind these connections of the prophet with meteorological events, more importantly, it speaks of the faith-filled intercession characterised by the Old Testament prophets. By bearing God’s word to the people and interceding for them, their prophetic office likewise bore a priestly character, perfected now in the offering made upon the altar. And insofar as Elijah’s prayer for rain follows on his encounter with the prophets of Baal, this offering is further shown forth as the expression of true worship.

Offertory Jas. 5, 17-18 Elias was a man passible like unto us: and with prayer he prayed that it might not rain upon the earth, and it rained not for three years and six months. And he prayed again: and the heaven gave rain, and the earth brought forth her fruit.

Secret We offer to thee, Lord, the sacrifice of praise in honour of Saint Elias, thy prophet: and even as thou accepted his burnt-offering, so vouchsafe to be present at our sacrifice, that we may thereby attain everlasting gladness. Through our Lord.

In the Postcommunio we encounter a classic image of spiritual nourishment borrowing from the life of the prophet:

Postcommunion O God, who by thy holy Angel gave food and drink to blessed Elijah, thy prophet, grant by his intercession, that what we have received from this heavenly table we may with pure minds keep undefiled. Through our Lord.

The preceding Communio, however, is somewhat untypical, and perhaps less transparent in its meaning:

Communion Mal. 4, 5-6 Behold I will send you Elias the prophet, before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord. And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers.

With every Mass, however, comes that “great and dreadful day of the Lord,” given as the foretaste of the future glory to which the faithful are called. More than that, the witness of the saints, like that of the prophet Elijah, are not mere superadditions to an otherwise more pristinely Christo-centric worship, but the very means of suitable spiritual preparation for receiving the eucharistic Lord. Throughout the texts of this unique feast, we see the prophet Elijah not only pointing us toward the Lord, from a distance. We see him actively interceding on the behalf of God’s people; providing, through the example of his zeal and right worship, a model of holiness; and awaiting us at the ultimate heavenly destination. On this account, the words of Rome (in another version of the story), “As the people, so the saint,” might perhaps give way to a further possibility: “As the saint, so the people.”

The Feast of St Mary Magdalene 2026

To Him that in the excess of His compassion did willingly live in my poverty, even Christ our God, o Mary Magdalene, thou didst faithfully minister as a disciple, and having beheld Him stretched out upon the Tree, and enclosed within the tomb, thou didst cry out while shedding many tears, “What strange sight is this? How is He that giveth life to the dead reckoned among the dead? What perfumes shall I bring to Him who removed from me the foul smell of the demons? What tears shall I shed for Him who wiped away the tears of my foremother?” (i.e. of Eve.) But the Lord of all appeared like the guardian of Paradise, and with the dew of His words took away the burning heat, saying to her, “Go to My brethren, and cry out to them the good tidings of joy! I shall ascend to my Father and yours, and my God and yours, that I may bestow upon the world great mercy!” (A hymn for Vespers of St Mary Magdalene in the Byzantine Rite.)

A 16th-century Cretan icon of the meeting of the Risen Christ and Mary Magdalene at the tomb. (Public domain image from Wikmedia Commons.)

Τῷ ἑκουσίως πτωχεύσαντι τὴν πτωχείαν τὴν ἐμὴν ὑπερβολῇ εὐσπλαγχνίας, Χριστῷ τῷ Θεῷ, ἡ Μαγδαληνὴ Μαρία, ὡς μαθήτρια πιστῶς διακονήσασα, ἐπὶ ξύλου ταθέντα, καὶ τάφῳ συγκλεισθέντα κατιδοῦσα, ἐβόα δακρυρροοῦσα· Τί τὸ ξένον θέαμα; ὁ νεκροὺς ζωοποιῶν, πῶς νεκρὸς λογίζεται; Ποῖα μύρα κομίσω τῷ ἀπαλλάξαντί με δυσωδίας τῶν δαιμόνων; Ποῖα δάκρυα χέω, τῷ δακρύων τὴν ἐμὴν μεταμφιάσαντι προμήτορα; Ἀλλ’ ὁ τοῦ σύμπαντος Ἄναξ, ὡς Παραδείσου φύλαξ φανείς, δροσισμῷ τῶν αὐτοῦ ῥημάτων τὸν καύσωνα ἀφανίζει, λέξας πρὸς αὐτήν· Τοῖς ἀδελφοῖς μου πορευθεῖσα, εὐαγγέλια χαρᾶς ἀναβόησον· Ἀναβαίνω πρὸς τὸν Πατέρα μου καὶ Πατέρα ὑμῶν, καὶ Θεόν μου καὶ Θεὸν ὑμῶν, ὅπως παράσχω τῷ κόσμῳ τὸ μέγα ἔλεος.

This hymn, attributed to an 8th-century hymnographer named Byzas of whom apparently very little is known, meditates on salvation in Christ by a beautifully constructed series of contrasts, broadly arranged in a “chiasmus”, a rhetorical structure in which the elements of the first part are repeated in reverse order in the second part. Christ takes on our “poverty”, (not our material poverty, but the poverty of our human existence, as opposed to His divine life), in order to “bestow” the largess of His great mercy on humanity. Mary Magdalene ministers to Christ “as a disciple”, and is therefore sent to proclaim the Resurrection to His brethren, for which she is traditionally called “Apostle of the Apostles.” The word “Tree” is used instead of “Cross” to remind us that the garden of Eden, lost by the transgression of our first parents, is restored to us in the garden (note the tree and the greenery in the icon) where the Lord’s tomb is situated, and where the tears of both Mary Magdalene and of her and our foremother Eve are wiped away. An angel was set to block the entrance to Eden with a fiery sword; its heat is now quenched by the dew of Christ’s words. At the center of the hymn, “He that giveth life to the dead is reckoned among the dead”, and the “perfumes” which Mary brings to Him are contrasted with the foul smell that He drove away from her when He “expelled from her seven demons,” as stated in the Byzantine Gospel for her feast day, St Luke, 8, 1-3.

Interesting Liturgical Sights on a Recent Trip to Europe (2): Venice

Concluding the gallery I began last week, today I have a small number of photos to share from Venice (and one that was taken elsewhere, as will be noted in due course).

In the Franciscan church Santa Maria Gloriosa “dei Frari - of the Friars”, I was pleasantly surprised to see that the altar in the Blessed Sacrament chapel had been fitted out with a new and rather handsome icon of St. Maximilian Kolbe.

In a side chapel, a Preparatio ad Missam next to a kneeler; rather oddly situated, I thought, and it made me wonder if it was the original location for it.

Also in the Frari: the chapel where Claudio Monteverdi is buried in a remarkably humble tomb compared to every other one in the same church.

It had been 27 years or so since my last visit to the Basilica of San Marco, and I had forgotten just how exquisite the mosaics are. Absolutely stunning! Here are depicted the six days of creation and the fall.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Vespers for the American Semiquincentennial in Philadelphia, This Saturday

The Durandus Institute for Sacred Liturgy & Music invites you to join in a commemoration of the Semiquincentennial (250th anniversary) of the founding of the United States, with a celebration of Vespers as it would have been experienced in 1776 in a Catholic chapel of the Thirteen Colonies. It will take place at St. Augustine Church, within walking distance of Independence Hall, on the feast of St. James, this Saturday, July 25, at 6pm. Vespers will be preceded by a choral prelude about 10 minutes before, and music outside the church by the New Jersey Fifes and Drums for a full hour beforehand.

It was Vespers that John Adams experienced during a visit to Old St. Mary’s, Philadelphia in 1774, after which he wrote to his wife Abigail, “The Musick consisting of an organ, and a Choir of singers, went all the Afternoon, excepting sermon Time, and the Assembly chanted-most sweetly and exquisitely.” Much of the music for this event has been taken from the first Catholic hymnal ever published in the United States, A Compilation of Litanies and Vespers, Hymns and Anthems as they are sung in the Catholic Church, printed in Philadelphia in 1787 by John Aitken.

Before the start of Vespers, there will be a ceremonial reading of the Declaration of Independence outside the church, with the support of the 3rd New Jersey Greys, as well as the New Jersey Fifes and Drums. The liturgical portion of Vespers, celebrating the feast of St. James the Apostle, will be officiated by Fr. Robert Pasley (rector of Mater Ecclesiae Church in Berlin, New Jersey, and president of the Church Music Association of America), with the assistance of six other priests in copes. A sermon will be preached by Fr. Alan Bridges (parochial vicar at St. Joseph’s, Toms River, New Jersey and a longtime participant of living history events at Fort Ticonderoga and with the 3rd New Jersey Greys).

The event will conclude with the singing of Te Deum, as was experienced by members of the Continental Congress, together with the French Minister and his chaplain and attendants, when they attended the first celebration of Independence Day in a Catholic church, on July 4, 1779, at Old St. Mary’s, Philadelphia.

A reception will follow in the parish hall next door; please come, and invite your friends!

website: https://www.durandusinstitute.org/event-details/solemn-vespers-te-deum-for-the-250th-of-america 

Facebook event listing: https://www.facebook.com/share/1ERsgVfHzA/

The Crown of Thorns and the Lily Cross: the Symbolism of the New Adam and the New Eve

As expressed in Byzantine hymns and three paintings: English Pre-Raphaelite, Hieronymus Bosch, and an English medieval wall painting

The symbolism of the crown of thorns is rich. What was meant as a sign of degradation becomes, for Christians, a sign of Christ’s triumph over suffering and death as the King of Kings. Jesus transforms the symbol of the curse into one of redemption. This also designates Christ as the new Adam, who saved us from the effects of the Fall, which originally ushered in the thorns and thistles of evil and suffering due to the curse, the consequence of the first Adam’s sin. Jesus bore our sins in our place. The crown of suffering contrasts with (and leads to) his crown of victory.

The Mockery of Christ, by Hieronymous Bosch, Dutch, 1500

This is beautifully summed up in one of the hymns of the Byzantine liturgy:

Sunday Orthros, Ode 1, in Tone III: “Our God is he Who cursed the earth to bring as fruit thorns through the sweat of the transgressor, and in the flesh receiveth a crown of thorns from the hands of the transgressors of the law. He hath abolished the curse, in that He hath been glorified.”

If Christ is the new Adam, Our Lady is the new Eve, who leads us to Him and who cooperated with grace fully, giving Christ His humanity. The Byzantine liturgy here portrays her as a lily of purity:

Sunday Orthros, Ode 9, in Tone IV: “We behold thee as a lily arrayed in a robe dyed by the divine Spirit, O all-pure one, resplendent amid thorns and filling with sweet fragrance those who sincerely magnify thee. The incorrupt One, receiving corrupt human nature from thy womb, O most immaculate one, showed it to be incorrupt within Himself, in His loving kindness; wherefore we magnify thee as the Theotokos.”

The imagery is evocative of the Song of Songs 2:2: “Like a lily among thorns is my darling among the young women.” (“Thorns” is sometimes translated ‘thistles’.)

The painting above is Convent Thoughts by the English pre-Raphaelite painter Charles Alston Collins (1851), now in the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford. The museum website tells us:

“A nun looks at a Passion flower, symbolizing the crucifixion of Christ. In her left hand, she holds a religious book open at an image of the Virgin Mary. The frame, designed by Millais, reads: SICUT LILIUM (’As the lily among the thorns’) from the Song of Solomon. This was traditionally associated with the Virgin Mary, as was the enclosed garden. The flowers in the painting symbolize various traits of a nun, including remembrance (Forget-me-nots), purity (Madonna lilies), constancy (Evergreen trumpet honeysuckle), and most of all passion for Christ (the Passion flower she holds in her hand).”

Another rather unusual painting that juxtaposes the lily as Mary with the suffering Christ appears in a 15th-century English wall painting, executed around 1450, at All Saints, Godshill, on the Isle of Wight, which depicts Christ on a cross of lilies. The website of the church, now an Anglican parish, tells us that the lily-cross likely refers to the coincidence that occurs usually a handful of times in any given century, when Good Friday falls on March 25, the feast of the Annunciation. Ancient tradition holds that the creation of Adam, the Annunciation, and Good Friday all took place on this date, and until 1752, the Annunciation, Lady Day, was the beginning of the New Year in England.

An Italian Chapel in Zimbabwe

My thanks to an old friend, Mr Marlow Gazzoli, for sharing these pictures which he took during a recent visit to a chapel dedicated to St Francis of Assisi in the city of Masvingo in central Zimbabwe. It was built by Italian P.O.W.s who had been captured by the British during fighting in Africa during World War II, and brought to an internment camp in what was then the British colony of Rhodesia. (Masvingo was then known as Fort Victoria. According to some sources on the internet, the camp also housed a number of German, Austrian and Italian civilians who had been interned by the British as citizens of hostile powers.) The chapel was constructed from 1942-46; afterwards, two wings were added to house the remains of 71 Italian soldiers who died during their imprisonment. It is still maintained, with Mass celebrated on a regular basis, including an annual Mass on November 4th, Italian Armed Forced Day, for the repose of the men whose are buried there.

“Italy to her sons.”

All of the work around the altar, in the apse, and on the ceiling that appears to be mosaic is actually painted. This is more obvious in some of the pictures below where one can see that parts of the paint have fallen of the wall.

One of the three columbaria for the soldiers.

In the center of the ceiling of the nave, St Francis of Assisi, to whom the chapel is dedicated, is shown receiving the Stigmata.

On a wall towards the back is this image of St Catherine of Siena, representing the crucial role which she played in bringing the papacy back to Rome after the popes had resided for nearly seventy years in Avignon. In 1939, less than three months before World War II broke out, Pope Pius XII had declared Ss Francis and Catherine the co-patrons of Italy.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

An Icon of the Prophet Elijah

In the liturgical Calendar of the Byzantine Rite, and in the two Carmelite Orders, July 20th is the feast of the Prophet Elijah. The Eastern tradition keeps almost all of the Prophets as Saints, and honors them as such in the liturgy. Veneration of Saints of the Old Testament is hardly known to the West, however, and where it is observed in the Latin rites, it arose under Eastern influence. The Carmelites, who came into existence as an Order in the Holy Land, honor Elijah as their founder, and keep his day as one of their patronal feasts, along with that of his disciple Elisha, on June 14th.

Here is a very beautiful icon of Elijah in the desert, with six episodes of his life in the bands above and below the central panel. This was painted in Bulgaria in the first quarter of the 18th century by an unknown artist; the western influence on the style is quite obvious.

In the central band, Elijah looks toward the crow that brings him food after he, in obedience to the Lord, has gone out to live in the desert. (3 Kings 17, 6) On the banderole in his hand are written in Greek the words of 3 Kings 19, 10, “Great hath been my zeal for the Lord almighty; for the sons of Israel have abandoned Thy covenant, they have dug down Thy altars.” The first part of this is often used as a motto among the Carmelites.

In the upper band, Elijah speaks with the widow of Sarephta (3 Kings 17, 8-15), raises the son of another woman from the dead (17-24), and contends with the prophets of Baal. (18, 19-40)

In the lower band, he is comforted by the angel in the desert as he rests under the juniper tree (3 Kings 19, 1-8), parts the Jordan with his cloak, and is taken up to heaven in a fiery chariot. (4 Kings 2, 1-12) All of these episodes except the fourth one are read at Vespers of the prophet’s feast in the Byzantine Rite.

The Troparion of the Prophet Elijah The angel in the flesh, and foundation of the prophets, the second forerunner of the coming of Christ, the glorious Elijah sent down from on high grace upon Elisha to dispel infirmities and to cleanse lepers; wherefore, he poureth forth healings upon those who honor him.

The Kontakion O prophet, foreseer of the mighty works of our God, Elijah of great renown, who by thy voice didst restrain the raining clouds, entreat for us Him who alone is the Lover of mankind.

Durandus on the Office of Vespers (Part 2): the Magnificat

This excerpt from William Durandus’ Rationale Divinorum Officium (V, 9) on the office of Vespers continues on from the section which I posted yesterday. As is his wont from time to time, our friend is more than a little prolix and obscure here, so this is to no small degree a paraphrase.

The Magnificat is said every day, so that the memory of the Lord’s incarnation may more frequently inspire the minds of the faithful in the work of God, in the teaching of those who lead them, and to the devout completion of our work. For the canticle itself are signifies thoughts, just as the psalms indicated works. Therefore, if we diligently and often recall the deeds and words of the blessed Mary, the observance of chastity and the virtue of our work will persevere in us, in imitation of her. …

One of my favorite settings of the Magnificat, in alternative chant and polyphony, by the Netherlandish composer Alexander Agricola (1446 ca. - 1506).

Bede says that the custom of the singing the canticle of the Virgin Mary at the evening office in particular, rather than at some other office, took hold for various reasons. First, because it was in the evening of the world that she, by her singular assent, came to help the world that was lost, and bore the Lord. Second, because through it, constant remembrance is made of the incarnation, which took place at the evening of the world. Third, because she herself is the star of the sea, which in the evening of this world received the light for our sake, just as the evening star from which the evening office takes its name starts to shine at the beginning of the night. Fourth, so that our mind, tired out during the day by various thoughts, may remember the words of the Mother of God as quiet comes upon us in the nighttime, and thus, whatever we have encountered that is useless or harmful over the course of the day may be completely cleansed away through her intersection by our prayers and tears.

This canticle is the exultation of those who labor, whose spirit exalts in the Lord, because He who is mighty has done great things for them and his mercy is forever. To represent this exultation, lamps are lit at Vespers, and especially for this canticle, because it is taken from the Gospel, and so that we, being the company of the five wise young women (Matt. 25, 1-13), may run with the lamps of good works after the odor of the ointments of the Blessed Virgin (Song 1, 3), entering with her into the joy of our Lord. And because our works do not shine forth in our lamps unless they are informed with charity, therefore the canticle is closed with an antiphon, by which is symbolized charity. …

The Wise and Foolish Virgins, ca. 1600-20, by the Flemish artist Pieter Lisaert (1574-1603)

The Office of the Dead begins with Vespers, but does not have second Vespers, to indicate that this office will have its end when the souls of the saved, delivered from every pain, shall enjoy eternal blessedness. But the Saints, of whose glorification in the soul the Church is already certain, have first and second vespers if nine readings are said on their feast (at Matins). The first Vespers represent the glorification of the soul which is already received, the second represent the glorification of the body which they will receive, and which will have no end.

St Macrina the Younger, and the Phos Hilaron

In the Byzantine Rite, today is the feast of St Macrina (327 ca. – 379), the older sister of Ss Basil the Great and Gregory of Nyssa. She is traditionally given the epithet “the Younger” to distinguish her from their sainted paternal grandmother, who was a disciple of St Gregory the Wonderworker. Their parents, Basil the Elder and Emmelia, their brother Peter, bishop of Sebaste, and another brother named Naucratius are all also Saints, and all but the last of them are named in the Roman Martyrology. (right: an 11th-century fresco of St Macrina in the cathedral of Holy Wisdom in Kyiv, Ukraine; public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.)

Her brother Gregory wrote two works about her, one, a general account of her life, and the other, a work titled “A Dialogue on the Soul and the Resurrection.” The latter is modeled on Plato’s Phaedo, the account of Socrates’ conversation on the nature of the soul with a student of that name, which takes place as he is in prison and awaiting execution. St Gregory’s work is cast as a conversation which he had with Macrina as she lay on her deathbed, and it says a great deal about what a change Christianity had brought to the world that the protagonist of a philosophical work of this kind could be a woman. (The same change is also evidenced by the participation of St Augustine’s mother St Monica, who was rather less educated than Macrina, in his Cassiciacum Dialogues.)

When she was young, her father had arranged a marriage for Macrina, but her fiancé died before the wedding could take place, and she decided that she preferred to not marry, and dedicate her life entirely to Christ. (That a woman could make such a choice at all is also a very significant change from the pagan world.) Not long after, the elder Basil died, and she devoted her life to caring for her mother, and assisting her in raising the younger children. Together with several other women, they withdrew to a country estate owned by their family, and lived as a religious community. Naucratius had renounced a promising career as a rhetorician in order to live nearby in solitude and poverty, and take care of the local poor, but in 357, he and a servant were both killed in a hunting accident. This profoundly upset their mother Emmelia, and St Gregory shows us Macrina as her mother’s chief support in her grief.

“…then above all, the sublime and exalted soul of the young girl made itself manifest, because her nature also experienced its own suffering; for it was… her most beloved brother, who had been snatched away by death … Nevertheless, she rose above nature, and by means of her own reasoned reflections she lifted her mother up together with her and placed her beyond suffering, guiding her to patience and courage by her own example.”

St Gregory’s description of Macrina’s death, six-and-a-half months after St Basil’s, is particularly beautiful, and contains a famous reference to the hymn Phos Hilaron. (Basil himself mentions the use of this hymn as already a long-standing custom in their time.)

“Most of the day had already passed and the sun was starting to set. … the more (Macrina) neared her departure, the more she contemplated the beauty of the bridegroom and longed to rush impulsively to her beloved. She no longer spoke to us who were present, but to that One alone upon whom she held her eyes intently. … Meanwhile, evening had come on and a light had been brought in. At once Macrina opened her eyes wide, directed their attention to the gleam of light, and made it clear that she also wished to say the evening prayer of thanksgiving; but as her voice failed her, she realized her desire in her heart… When she had completed the prayer of thanksgiving and, by bringing her hand to her face for the sign of the cross, had indicated that she had finished her prayer, she took a strong, deep breath, and with that she died.”

The Phos Hilaron is still sung every day at Vespers in the Byzantine Rite. In this first video, it is sung in Greek at the Iveron Monastery on Mt Athos.

“Φῶς ἱλαρὸν ἁγίας δόξης ἀθανάτου Πατρός, οὐρανίου, ἁγίου, μάκαρος, Ἰησοῦ Χριστέ, ἐλθόντες ἐπὶ τὴν ἡλίου δύσιν, ἰδόντες φῶς ἑσπερινόν, ὑμνοῦμεν Πατέρα, Υἱόν, καὶ ἅγιον Πνεῦμα, Θεόν. Ἄξιόν σε ἐν πᾶσι καιροῖς ὑμνεῖσθαι φωναῖς αἰσίαις, Υἱὲ Θεοῦ, ζωὴν ὁ διδούς· διὸ ὁ κόσμος σὲ δοξάζει. – O gladsome Light of the holy glory of the immortal Father, the Heavenly, the Holy, the Blessed, o Jesus Christ, having come to the setting of the sun, having seen the evening light, we praise the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, God. Worthy it is at all times to praise Thee with fitting voices, o Son of God, Giver of Life, for which the world glorifies Thee.”

A polyphonic setting in Church Slavonic by the composer Artemy Vedel (1767-1808).

Свѣте тихїй свѧтыѧ славы, безсмертнагω Отца небеснагω, свѧтагω блаженнагω, Іисусе христе: пришедше на западъ солнца, видѣвше свѣтъ вечернїй, поемъ Отца, Сына, и Свѧтагω Духа, Бога. достоинъ єси во всѧ времена пѣтъ бити гласы преподобными, Сыне Божїй, животъ даѧй: тѣмже міръ тѧ славитъ.

Durandus on Saturday Vespers (Part 1)

The following excerpts are taken from William Durandus’ great liturgical commentary, the Rationale Divinorum Officium, book V (which treats of the Divine Office), chapter 9, on Vespers. I have titled it “on Saturday Vespers” because the psalms of Saturday Vespers (143-147, in the traditional arrangement before St Pius X’s reform) are the only ones which he comments on specifically. The part noted * between two red stars * is from the prologue of this same book V, which Durandus himself cites in that place.

At the evening hour, the Church symbolizes the first coming of the Lord, which took place “as the world was coming to its evening” (a citation of the Vespers hymn of Advent, Conditor alme siderum), that is, in the last age. In this regard, it renders thanks to God by singing, according to what the Apostle says, “We are those upon whom the ends of the ages have come.” (1 Cor. 10, 11) Furthermore, Christ was taken down from the cross in the evening, and in the same hour, at the Last Supper, He instituted the sacrament of His body and blood, and washed the feet of the disciples, and manifested himself to the disciples on the road to Emmaus in the likeness of a pilgrim at the breaking of the bread. Rightly therefore does the Catholic Church give thanks to Christ at this hour.

The Deposition of Christ from the Cross, 1634, by the workshop of Rembrandt van Rijn.

Of course, … the office of the following day begins at Vespers, because the evening service, that is the canonical hour, is the first office, according to the custom established by the prophet Ezra, * who taught the people of Israel, when they had return from the Babylonian captivity, to praise God four times in the night and four times in the day. Therefore the evening office belongs to the night, * and for this reason it is named after the evening star (Vesper), which rises at the beginning of the night. …

At this hour, the Church says five psalms, first of all because of the five wounds of Christ, who offered a sacrifice for us in the evening of the world; secondly, for correction, namely, so that we may weep over and ask for forgiveness of our sins, which are committed during the day through the five bodily sense, and come in unto according to what Jeremiah says (9, 21), “death has come in through our windows.” For who is there who does not fall and is not taken by the sense of sight? Thirdly, through the five psalms the Church strengthens itself against the tribulations of the night; for this hour indicates the weeping of them for whom the Sun of justice (Mal. 4, 2) set, and of this it is said (Ps. 29, 6), “In the evening shall weeping abide.” This weeping will last until the morning, that is until the sun which had fallen for sinners will rise upon the faithful, according to the same Psalm, “And in the morning (shall abide) rejoicing. For the same cause also do we strike the breasts with five fingers. …

The psalms are sung according to the meaning of the day; and behold, on the seventh day, that is on Saturday, because of the resurrection which follows, the Office treats of victory and the praise of God which follows victory. Therefore, the first Psalm “Blessed be God” (143) is literally about David’s victory over Goliath (according to its title in the Septuagint and Vulgate), but according to the spiritual sense, it treats of the victory by which we overcome the devil. And since after that victory, it remains only to praise the Lord through whom we have won it, there follow four psalms which are about praise. In the first, the Church sets forth praise: “I will exalt thee, o Lord”; in the second, she urges herself on, saying, “Praise the Lord, o my soul”; in the third, she invites others to join her, “Praise ye the Lord”; in the fourth, she congratulates the heavenly Jerusalem, saying, “Praise the Lord, o Jerusalem.”…

David and Goliath, ca. 1542-44, by Titian

The versicle on Saturday is “May our evening prayer (rise unto Thee, o Lord, and Thy mercy descend upon us)”, and on the other days, “Let my prayer be directed, (o Lord, like incense in Thy sight), both of which signify the evening on which they are sung, in keeping with the sense of the words that follow within the psalm (140) “The lifting up of my hands as an evening sacrifice.” …

The incensation is done so that we may always be the good odor of God (2 Cor. 2, 15), by advancing in knowledge, in teaching, for such must we be because of the promises of God… And therefore at Vespers and at Lauds, after the psalms and the reading … the incense is offered to signify that no one can render a good odor unto God, or give a good example of working to others, which is signified by the incense, unless first he works in the service of God, because which he teaches others through the psalms…

The priest who is senior in the office of the Church, as the one who holds the place of Aaron, ought to offer the incense so that it be an eternal sweet offering before the Lord, and a sweet, fragrant odor, according to the words of the Psalms, “Let my prayer, o Lord, be directed like incense in thy sight.” (right: an 11th century Greek mosaic of Aaron the high priest.) 

The Anniversary of St Thomas Aquinas’ Canonization

St Thomas Aquinas was canonized on this day in the year 1323. Although popular devotion to him began as soon as he died, the Dominicans did not begin officially collecting testimonies to his sanctity until 1317, over 40 years after his death. Representatives of the Order presented their evidence to Pope John XXII (1316-34, the second Avignon Pope) in an audience the following year, at which the process received formal approval to continue. One of the most famous stories about Thomas is that a cardinal objected to his cause because he had performed no miracles, to which the postulator answered, “Quot articuli, tot miracula - there are as many miracles as there are articles (in the Summa.)” The cause was concluded in five years, and the same Pope issued the bull of canonization on July 18, 1323; as was then the custom, it includes an appendix of some of the Saint’s more notable posthumous miracles. His feast day is traditionally kept on March 7th, the date of his death, but the Neo-Gallican uses of Paris and various other French sees moved it to this date to keep it out of Lent.

This altarpiece by the Sienese painter Lippo Memmi (1291 ca. – 1356) is one of the earliest to be made after the canonization. It is housed in a church in Pisa, Italy, dedicated to St Catherine of Alexandria, patron Saint of philosophers, which formerly belonged to the Dominican Order. (All images from Wikimedia Commons by Sailko, CC BY 3.0)

Above St Thomas, the Lord sits on a throne of angels, and around his head are Moses, St Paul and the Four Evangelists, figures representing his mastery of all the sources of Divine Revelation.

On the book in Thomas’ hands are written the words of Proverbs 8, 7, “Veritatem meditabitur guttur meum, et labia mea detestabuntur impium. – My mouth shall meditate truth, and my lips shall hate wickedness”, the first words of the Summa Contra Gentiles. Of the four books lying flat under it, the one on the left is the Bible, with the first words of Genesis 1, 1, while the other shows the beginning of Thomas’ commentary on the Sentences of Peter Lombard. (In medieval universities, the final step to obtain a doctorate in theology was the writing and defending of such a commentary; St Robert Bellarmine was the first person to be granted a doctorate in theology by writing one on Thomas’ Summa Theologica.) The two books under them are written with a purely ornamental form of letter called pseudo-kufic script, used by medieval artists to represent languages that they did not know such as Greek and Arabic; this would signify the superiority of Christian philosophy and theology over those of the pagans and Muslims.

Continue Reading this Article. . .