The Feast of the Sacred Heart 2026

Consider thou also, o man that art redeemed, Who it is that hangeth for Thee upon the Cross, how great He is and what is His nature, Whose death giveth life to the dead, at whose passing both heaven and earth mourn, and the very stones are cloven as if it were in their nature to suffer. O for the heart of man, that art harder than the hardness of any stone, if at the memory of so great an atonement thou art not struck with terror, nor moved to compassion, nor rent unto remorse, not softened with devotion!

The Crucifixion, by Taddeo Gaddi, ca 1360; from the Sacristy of the church of the Holy Cross in Florence.

Moreover, that the Church might be formed from the side of Christ as He slept, and the Scripture fulfilled that saith, “They shall look upon Him that they pierced,” it was granted by a divine command that one of the soldiers should pierce the side of that holy body, so that, as blood came forth with water, the price of our salvation might be poured forth. And so this blood, being shed from this hidden source, namely, His Heart, might give to the Sacraments of the Church their power to confer the life of grace, and for those that now live in Christ, be the drought of the living fountain that springeth up unto eternal life. (From St Bonaventure’s Book on the Tree of Life; the second part of this is read in the third nocturn of the Office of the Sacred Heart promulgated by Pope Pius XI in 1928.)

The Rubrics of the Per ipsum

Lost in Translation #161

We gratefully resume our series on the Latin of the Ordinary of the traditional Mass. In our last essay on the subject, we examined the language of the concluding doxology of the Roman Canon, the Per ipsum. Here, we examine the rubrics accompanying the prayer.

After saying the Per quem, the priest takes the Host with his right hand, and with his left he holds the knob of the chalice. He makes the sign of the cross with the Host over the chalice three times, saying: Per ipsum ✠, et cum ipso ✠, et in ipso ✠; then, still holding the chalice in the same manner, he makes the sign of the cross with the Host between himself and the chalice as he says est tibi Deo Patri ✠ omnipotenti, in unitate Spiritus ✠ Sancti. He then holds the Host over the chalice upright and elevates the Host and chalice together a few inches above the altar as he says omnis honor et gloria.

Although the story of how these rubrics came to be is a long and complicated one, [1] the end result is an example of what Rudolf Otto calls a mysterium fascinans – a fascinating mystery that piques our interest and draws us into a reality greater than ourselves. What do all these gestures mean?

According to Fr. Nicholas Gihr, “The accompanying rite harmonizes magnificently with the text of the prayer.” [2] The first three signs of the cross are about Jesus Christ, and hence it is appropriate that the Host is placed over the Precious Blood. The next two signs of the cross are made in reference to the Father and the Holy Spirit, and hence it is appropriate that they be made outside the chalice, for it was Christ and Christ alone who suffered and shed His Blood for us. [3] Finally, the elevation of the Host and chalice are made appropriately at the words “all honor and glory,” for honor and glory are elevated things, so to speak: as we saw in an earlier post, glory is especially linked to Heaven. 

The actions are also ripe for allegorical interpretation. St. Thomas Aquinas contends that while the three signs of the cross made at the Per quem signify the three prayers that Christ made on the Cross, [4] the three signs of the cross here signify His three hours on the Cross while the two signs of the Cross made over the corporal represent the separation of Christ’s soul from His body. [5] William Durandus sees an additional meaning in making these signs of the Cross from the edges of the chalice to the edge of the altar, as an allusion to Christ extending His arms on the Cross. [6] Durandus also construes the uncovering of the chalice at the beginning of the rite as a type for the Temple veil rending in two when Our Lord gave up the ghost; [7] while St. Peter Damien interprets the covering of the chalice at the end of the rite as a symbol of the great stone that covered the entrance to the tomb.

Progressive liturgists were not pleased with the rubrics of the Per ipsum. For Father H.A. Reinhold, author of Bringing the Mass to the People, the introduction of the Major Elevation after the consecration of the Host and Precious Blood had the unfortunate effect of dwarfing the Minor Elevation. According to him, the Major Elevation is the product of a debate among scholastics at the University of Paris in the thirteenth century as to whether the bread becomes the Body of Christ after the words “This is My Body” or whether it becomes so only after both species have been consecrated. The double elevation, he alleges, was instituted to show that each species is transubstantiated immediately after the relevant words are said over it. “The twofold elevation,” Reinhold concludes,

is therefore a remnant of a controversy long settled [read: and no longer necessary]. Its retention is an illustration of a French proverb: Ce n’est que le provisoire qui reste (“What is of temporary value stubbornly stays on”). [8]

Reinhold also does not like that the twofold elevation encourages devotion among the congregants. Eucharistic devotion, he opines, is better confined to the feast of Corpus Christi, Exposition, Adoration, and in processions, but not during the Canon. [9]

Reinhold recommends omitting the Major Elevation altogether “or, if retained, ring[ing] [the] bell only once, at the actual elevations.” [10] As for the Minor Elevation, it should be restored to “the ancient and more traditional Great Doxology,” namely, raising both species so they can “be seen by the ministers and the congregation.” [11] This claim about an “ancient” elevation that was meant to be seen by the faithful was a common assumption at the time Reinhold was writing, but as we shall see shortly, it is dubious.

Among the liturgists who agreed with Fr. Reinhold was Fr. Pius Parsch, who called the Minor Elevation “much more appropriate” than the Major and who even urged “his fellow-priests not to let this elevation remain the mere suggestion, which it now is, but to make it higher and slower, and thus also more impressive,” even though the rubrics at the time stated that the Host and chalice should only be elevated “a little bit” (aliquantulum). [12]

The more eminent liturgical scholar Josef Jungmann, on the hand, has a different assessment. For Jungmann, it is only natural that the faithful should adore their Lord the moment after He becomes sacramentally present on the altar. In the East, this adoration takes the form of a profession of Faith (like the “Memorial Acclamations” inserted into all the Eucharistic Prayers of the Novus Ordo). In comparison with the Eastern Rites, Jungmann states, “we must confess that the Roman liturgy of the first millenary lacked the impulse to direct the attention at once to the completion of the sacramental process, or to draw ritual deductions from it.” [13]

But beginning in the eleventh century, “an increased care for everything connected with the Sacrament” began to emerge; at the Abbey of Cluny, for example, the priests began observing the custom of canonical digits. And in the twelfth century, “the people entered to dominate the scene,” seeking “to look at the sacred species with their bodily eyes” as soon as possible. [14] In 1210, the Bishop of Paris ordered that the priest should lift the consecrated Host high enough to be seen by all, the first known rubric of its kind. The custom then spread rapidly across Europe.

The elevation of the chalice took longer to develop. There was concern that the Precious Blood might be spilled, and it was logistically more difficult, for in the Middle Ages, “the chalice used to be covered with the back part of the corporal folded up over it.” [15] Most of all, it was objected that one does not actually see the Precious Blood but only the chalice that contains it. Consequently, not even the Roman Missals of 1500, 1507, and 1526 mention it. Nevertheless, the 1570 Missal of Pope St. Pius V includes this second elevation.

Josef Andres Jungmann, S.J.

As for the Minor or “Little” Elevation, Jungmann rejects the idea that it is “the remnant of a larger one,” for the intention was never to show the holy gifts to the people but to offer them to God as an oblation. [16] Father Adrian Fortescue also notes that the wording of the prayer, est tibi . . . omnis honor et gloria, “suggests lifting the holy things to God rather than showing them to the people.” [17] And in his recent study of the Mass, Michael Fiedrowicz concludes that “the consecrated offerings… are not shown here for the veneration of the people but are rather raised up for the glorification of God.” [18]

Perhaps the modern temptation to read the Minor Elevation as a “showing to the people” comes from a comparison with Eastern Rites, which do have an elevation that shows the sacred species to the people at the words, “The holy things for the holy.” But the purpose of the Eastern elevation is to prepare the faithful for Holy Communion, which happens almost immediately after. Thus, the Roman equivalent of the Eastern elevation is not the Minor Elevation at the end of the Canon but the presentation of the Host at the Domine non sum dignus.

Despite being a consultor for the Consilium that created the Novus Ordo, Jungmann’s view was eclipsed, at least partially, by those of Reinhold and company.

Annibale Bugnini reports that in 1967, when the Consilium was creating new Eucharistic Prayers, it also wanted to introduce “the Alexandrian anaphora of St. Basil into the Roman liturgy.” [19] One way to do that was to replace the Minor Elevation with the Major Elevation. The study group was asked to vote on the following resolution:

2. Where is the elevation to be placed?

Response: It would be best to locate the showing and adoring of the sacred species at the end of the Eucharistic Prayer, because in the anaphoras of this Eastern tradition the full expression of the Church’s intention in using the words of Christ is not complete until that point…. The location of the elevation at the end would make it clearer that the intention of the Church in using Christ’s words (the same words it uses in the Roman Canon) is expressed in the total prayer of which the words of consecration are an inseparable part. [20]

Because the resolution barely failed to garner the necessary votes, the decision was left to the Holy Father. Apparently, Pope St. Paul VI decided on a compromise: the Major Elevation would stay, and the Minor Elevation would become, for lack of a better formulation, less minor. But the details regarding the latter’s promotion are surprisingly thin. The 2002 GIRM merely states:

At the end of the Eucharistic Prayer, the priest takes the paten with the host and the chalice and elevates them both while alone singing or saying the doxology, Per ipsum (Through him). No. 151.

Note that the height of the elevation is not stipulated, nor the position of the Host and chalice, that is, whether the Host should be above the chalice as before or held at the same altitude. Possibly because of this paucity of instruction, “many priests,” observes Fr. Dennis Smolarski, “are still under the impression the height formerly prescribed in the Tridentine Missal (a few inches) should be continued now.” But, Smolarski is quick to add, “the contrary is true,” for “evidence suggests that the doxology is the time for the grand gesture of lifting high the gifts towards heaven for all to see.” [21] Unfortunately, the author does not tell us what evidence he has in mind.

In his monumental Ceremonies of the Modern Roman Rite, then-Monsignor Peter J. Elliott offers the following advice:

The celebrant raises the chalice in his right hand, the paten in his left hand. He does not rest a Host upright on the paten, as this gesture is meant to signify sacrificial offering rather than “showing” to the assembly. It seems preferable to hold the vessels out directly over the corporal rather than separating them widely. They should be raised high, at least above eye-level, so that the gesture is strong and significant. [22]

Yi Wang, “Bishop Elliott and Lady Jacqueline”

In making these recommendations, Elliott is teasing out the implications of the changes to the rite and possibly drawing from the pre-conciliar arguments of figures like Reinhold and Parsch. Still, it bears mention that this “showing to the assembly” and this rejection of “sacrificial offering” is a novelty in the Roman liturgical tradition, as Jungmann had already demonstrated in 1948. In that tradition, the Minor Elevation beautifully completes the holy oblation, when the priest offers to God what is already His. Regardless of whether the congregation can see it or not, this gesture to me seems to be the stronger and more significant.

Michael Foley is the author of Lost in Translation: Meditating on the Orations of the Traditional Roman Rite (Angelico Press, 2023).

Notes

[1] Josef Jungmann, S.J., The Mass of the Roman Rite: Its Origins and Development, vol. 2 (New York: Benzinger Brothers, 1951), 266-270.

[2] Nicholas Gihr, The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass: Dogmatically, Liturgically and Ascetically Explained, 5th ed., (St. Louis, Missouri: Herder, 1918), 692.

[3] Pope Benedict XIV, De Sacrosancta Missae Sacrificio (Mainz: Franz Kirkheim, 1879), L.ii.c.xviii.n. 15.

[4] They are: “Father, forgive them”; “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” and “Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.”

[5] Summa Theologiae III.83.5.ad 3.

[6] William Durandus, Rationale Divinorum Officionorum IV.46.15.

[7] Ibid., IV.46.10.

[8] H.A. Reinhold, Bringing the Mass to the People (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1950), 67.

[9] Ibid., 69.

[10] Ibid., 65.

[11] Ibid., 70-71.

[12] Pius Parsch, The Liturgy of the Mass, trans. Frederic C. Eckhoff (St. Louis, Missouri: Herder, 1940), 255.

[13] Jungmann, 205. In other words, according to this logic, the Major Elevation has the same function as a Memorial Acclamation, and therefore a Memorial Acclamation in the Roman Rite is redundant.

[14] Ibid., 206.

[15] Ibid., 208.

[16] Ibid., 266.

[17] Adrian Fortescue, The Mass: A Study of the Roman Liturgy (London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1912), 360.

[18] Michael Fiedrowicz, The Traditional Mass: History, Form, & Theology of the Classical Roman Rite, trans. Rose Pfeifer (Brooklyn: Angelico Press, 2020), 106.

[19] Annibale Bugnini, The Reform of the Roman Liturgy: 1948-1975, trans. Matthew J. O’Connell (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1990), 458.

[20] Ibid., 460.

[21] Dennis C. Smolarski, SJ, How Not to Say Mass: A Guidebook on Liturgical Principles and the Roman Missal, Revised Edition (Paulist Press, 2003), 87-88.

[22] Peter J. Elliott, Ceremonies of the Modern Roman Rite (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2005), no. 318.

A Legend about St Thomas’ Office of Corpus Christi

O sacrum convivium, in quo Christus súmitur: recólitur memoria passiónis ejus, mens implétur gratia, et futúrae gloriae nobis pignus datur, allelúja. (The Magnificat antiphon for Second Vespers of Corpus Christi.)

O sacred banquet, in which Christ is received; the memory of His passion is recalled, the mind is filled with grace, and the pledge of future glory is given to us, alleluia.

The Office and Mass which St Thomas Aquinas wrote for the feast of Corpus Christ at the behest of Pope Urban IV (1261-4) are universally recognized to be among the finest liturgical compositions of the Middle Ages. There is a famous legend of how this came to be, which tells that the pope proposed a contest between Thomas and his friend St Bonaventure, who was at that time serving as the 7th Minister General of the Franciscan Order. Each would write an Office and Mass for the feast, which would then be read to the papal court, and the better of the two chosen. On the day of the contest, Thomas was allowed to read his first; as soon as he had finished, Bonaventure tore his own manuscript to pieces (or threw it in the fire), recognizing that Thomas’ work was far superior to his own.

Painful as it is to impugn such a charming story, it has to be acknowledged that it has no basis in fact. Among other things, we know enough about St Bonaventure’s doings and whereabouts in that period to say that he was not in Orvieto, the town where the papal court resided for most of Pope Urban’s reign, long enough for such a contest to have happened. There are no written attestations of the story before the later decades of the 15th century, over 200 years after it supposedly took place; even in the mid-15th century, Dominican writers known for their enthusiasm for these kinds of tales about the glories of their early confreres (e.g. St Antoninus of Florence) make no mention of it.

However, there is an artistic depiction of the story, or something like it, earlier than this, a painting by the Sienese artist Taddeo di Bartolo (ca. 1363 - 1422), likely made for the Dominican church of his native city around 1403-5. 

St Thomas is shown kneeling before the pope, presenting his liturgical texts, while a cardinal holds a host and chalice above him. (This is, of course, purely symbolic.) At the far right is a Franciscan cardinal who seems rather taken aback by what’s happening, while the Dominican next to him points toward the host, and the cardinal sitting with his back to the viewer gestures towards the Franciscan, as if to say, “You can stop now.” However, this painting cannot be treated as any kind of proof of the legend’s historical accuracy, since St Bonaventure was not made a cardinal until 1273, while Pope Urban died in 1264.

My thanks to Dr Donald Prudlo, an old friend and occasional guest contributor to NLM, for information which he provided me for this article.

A Reconstruction of an Archaic Rite of Holy Communion (Part 1): New Light on Traditional Eucharistic Praxis

The following article was sent to us by Zsolt Orbán, to whom we offer thanks. Mr. Orbán proposes a most intriguing hypothesis to account for what is depicted in a number of religious images and has survived to the present day in the customs of certain churches; the hypothesis also calls into question some of the changes in Eucharistic praxis characteristic of the twentieth-century liturgical reform. – PAK

According to the popular narrative, the Mass in ancient times took the form of a ‘love feast’, an agape so to speak, as is thought to be depicted in the wall paintings of the catacombs, with everyone seated around a single table. The Mass therefore did not take place with the congregation facing the Lord, and, most importantly, everyone received Communion in their hands.

The problem with this narrative is that it has no basis in reality: no text corroborates it, and no evidence in support of it can be found in the surviving pictorial records either.

In fact, none of the surviving wall paintings in the catacombs depict an actual liturgy. These images can only be regarded as symbolic references to the Holy Mass, to Christ, and to the Eucharist, and it is only in the case of depictions of Gospel scenes that they can be said to be artistic representations of historical events. Common themes include the wedding at Cana, the miraculous multiplication of the loaves, and the Last Supper; as symbols, the most frequent are the fish as a symbol of Christ (the fish – ichthys – is a Christian acronym: Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour), bread, and grapes all refer to the truths of the faith associated with the Holy Mass. In none of these symbolic references do we find any guidance regarding the Holy Mass or the manner of receiving Communion.

The earliest depictions of the rite of the Eucharist

A major innovation in depiction appeared sometime in the 4th or 5th century, perhaps first in the murals or mosaics surrounding the altar of a Christian basilica in Jerusalem. According to researchers’ assumptions, the archetype of such depictions may have been a mural or mosaic in a church in Jerusalem or Constantinople; most suspect that the former paintings of the destroyed Church of the Last Supper served as the model composition. Following this example, the motif of the Communion of the Apostles appears on liturgical metalwork and in books – at least according to the surviving works, generally dated to the 6th century, which survived iconoclasm. During this period, the motif of the Communion of the Apostles appears on several such liturgical objects and in Gospel books.

A characteristic feature of this mode of representation is that it depicts an explicit and specific reception of Holy Communion. On the two halves of the image, Christ himself administers communion to the apostles, giving them their share separately in the two species; this is the metadosis, the handing over of the Holy Body, and the metalepsis, signifying their partaking of the Holy Blood.

Of the earliest such depictions, I shall now examine the three earliest, and thus, from our perspective, the most significant examples, because unlike the speculations regarding the early Christian depictions mentioned above – which lack any concrete basis – these truly do depict an interpretable sacrificial practice, which is moreover supported by written texts. From these, it is indeed possible to reconstruct a highly probable communion practice which, according to the evidence of these artefacts, may have been widespread in the 5th and 6th centuries.

I. Codex Purpureus Rossanensis

This is an illuminated Gospel manuscript dating to the second half of the sixth century. It was discovered in the treasury of the cathedral in Rossano (southern Italy) and became widely known in the 19th century.

In this beautiful Gospel volume, with its crimson-coloured pages and delicate miniatures, two illustrations clearly depict a sacramental rite – the apostles receiving the Eucharist on their tongues. This, of course, has caused some difficult moments for ideologically driven researchers. For example, Franz Xaver von Funk, having established that the depiction shows Christ administering the Eucharist to the apostles on the tongue, declared – as a textbook example of a circular argument – that despite the many corroborating signs, the work could not date from the sixth century, because the practice of administering the Eucharist on the tongue did not exist before the eighth century.

The Receiving of the Holy Body

The scene is explained by the inscription at the top: “He took the bread, gave thanks, gave it to them, saying: This is my body.”

Christ stands on the left-hand side of the painting; the apostles approach him in a line, while in the segment below, Old Testament prophets point to the scene, their messages depicted on their pulpits with scriptural quotations (from left to right):

“O taste, and see that the Lord is sweet” (Psalm 33, 9); “This is the bread which the Lord hath given you to eat” (Exodus 16, 15); “And had rained down manna upon them to eat, and had given them the bread of heaven. Man ate the bread of angels.” (Psalm 77, 24-25); “And one of the seraphim flew to me… and said: ‘Behold this hath touched thy lips, and thy iniquities shall be taken away, and thy sin shall be cleansed.’ ” (Isaiah 6, 6-7)

What we see in the “communion” scene:

1. Three apostles approach for communion from the right, standing and with their hands held open at the sides of their torsos, bowing slightly.

2. Immediately before communion, one apostle stands with his outstretched hands concealed within his garment, forming a horizontal “altar cloth” from his himation (Greek outer garment).

3. An apostle, bowing, places both hands beneath Christ’s right hand and leans his mouth towards Christ’s hand. Christ holds his left hand horizontally, fingers bent, palm facing upwards, as if holding something in his palm (or rather, as the celebrant holds his left palm in the video clip shown at the end of the text)

4. An apostle beside him (in the background due to the composition of the image) raises his hands to heaven in thanksgiving.

A close-up of the reception of the Body of Christ

The reception of the Holy Blood

Christ stands here on the right, holding a chalice in both hands. The inscription above him reads: “Then he took the chalice in his hands, gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my blood.’”

Below the Eucharist, there are again four Old Testament prophets; from left to right, the texts read: “This is the blood of the covenant, which the Lord hath made with you.” (Exodus 24, 8); “I take the chalice of salvation, and I call upon the name of the Lord.” (Ps. 115, 4); “And your chalice inebriateth me, like the finest wine.” (Ps 22, 5); “They that drink me shall yet thirst.” (Sir 24, 21)

What we see in the scene of the Eucharist:

1. From the left, three apostles approach for communion, their hands held at waist height alongside their torsos with open palms, bowing slightly.

2. In front of them, an apostle, just before receiving Communion, holds his hands at waist height, concealed within his garment, forming a horizontal ‘altar cloth’ from his himation.

3. An apostle bows, holding his hands beneath Christ’s hands holding the chalice, but without touching it.

4. An apostle stands beside him (behind him in the picture due to the composition), his left hand visible.

A close-up of the reception of the chalice

II. The Riha paten

This is a communion dish belonging to a hoard of liturgical vessels unearthed in Syria at the beginning of the 20th century. Bbased on the imperial seal found on the bottom of the vessel, it may have been made in Constantinople during the reign of Emperor Justinian II (565–578).

Christ himself is offering the Eucharist to the apostles; the two scenes of the reception of the two species are depicted in a single composition. Researchers believe that this type of depiction was originally modelled on a scene on the walls flanking the altar of a church in Jerusalem, from where it was copied and arranged into one composition on vessels and icons.

The reception of the Holy Blood is depicted on the left side of the paten:

1. Four apostles in the background; due to the composition, their hands are not visible

2. An apostle before the Eucharist, holding his hand out at waist height with an open palm

3. An apostle, his hands covered by his himation, holds them out at waist height, raised slightly, whilst drinking from the chalice held by Christ. His hands do not touch the chalice, being covered by the himation.

Close-up of the Communion scene

The chalice used for communion can be seen on the right side of the altar. Below is a photograph of a similar 6th century chalice.

The reception of the Holy Body on the right side of the paten:

1. Four apostles in the background; their hands are not visible due to the composition

2. One apostle just before receiving Communion, his hand extended forward at waist height with an open palm

3. One apostle leans towards Christ’s right hand, holding his own hands (right hand in left palm, thumb resting on the back of the right hand) directly beneath Christ’s hand; his himation no longer covers his hands, it hangs from his left arm.

The “communion” scene enlarged

III. The Stuma paten

This paten is of the same period as the Riha paten and belongs to the same treasure hoard found at Caper Koraon (modern day Kurin, Syria). Based on the imperial seal visible on it, the paten was likely made in 577-78.

The reception of the Holy Body on the right-hand side of the paten:

1. Three apostles in the background; due to the composition, their hands are not visible.

2. An apostle before the Eucharist, his right hand raised with an open palm, his left hand hidden beneath his himation

3. An apostle leaning towards Christ’s right hand, his mouth at the back of Christ’s hand, his elbows at waist height, his hands slightly raised and covered by the himation

4. Another apostle, bowing after Communion, hands extended forward in thanksgiving, fingers slightly spread, palms turned upwards and spread apart, his himation hanging from his left hand.

The reception of the Holy Blood on the left side of the paten:

1. Four apostles in the background; their hands are not visible due to the composition.

2. An apostle stands with uplifted hands veiled by a himation, his eyes turned heavenward.

3. Another apostle drinks from the chalice, which Christ holds out to him with both hands. The apostle’s hands are not visible; they are covered by the himation (the lower edge of the himation is clearly identifiable as it hangs in front of the altar cloth).

Regarding the depiction on the patens, researchers note that, contrary to the order of the liturgy, the wine appears on the left and the bread on the right, although in eighty percent of cases this is usually the reverse. Christ always gives the bread with his right hand and holds the chalice in both hands.

Common features of the depicted communion scenes

Based on the images presented, in my opinion, despite the differences in the individual details visible in them, common features can be identified, on the basis of which a communion rite can be reconstructed using the following interpretative principles. The principles are:

a. the same rite

A common feature of the objects presented is that researchers generally associate them with the eastern, Syrian regions: this applies not only to the two patens but also to the Rossano Codex, which, according to several researchers, may have been brought to Italy to escape the wrath of iconoclasts. And since their dates of origin can also be placed in the same period, we may rightly assume that the sacrificial features depicted on them may be representations of the same sacrificial rite.

b. the simultaneous depiction of a sequence of actions occurring one after the other

Another important point concerns the relationship between the depicted reality and the medium of representation: in these images, a dynamic sequence of events is narrated using static visual elements. Consequently, these compositions are series of cartoon-like images, woven together from several scene fragments determined by the constraints of space and composition. This can be observed in the procession of the apostles approaching the Eucharist, in which the preparations before the Eucharist, the moment of the Eucharist itself, and the actions preceding or following it in chronological order all appear simultaneously.

c. didactic nature

The third aspect concerns the function of the depictions. These were not originally mere decorations, narrative accounts or illustrations, but depictions of a didactic nature. This is particularly true if the researchers’ theory regarding the archetype of the depiction is correct and the Communion of the Apostles did indeed first appear in the wall paintings of a church. For this very reason, these depictions do not merely portray an ancient event – for which it would have sufficed to capture the moment of communion – but the depicted scene fragments also convey a kind of teaching. Simultaneously they present a chronological arrangement of the event’s parts in accordance with the essence of the given teaching – precisely in the spirit of didactic intent.

Reconstruction of the Communion practice

Based on the above considerations, the specific rite of communion can be reconstructed from these depictions, despite the variations visible on individual objects.

To begin with, it is worth paying attention to the himations.

In this regard, we can see that in the Rossano Codex, in the part of the scene closest to the moment of the communion, the hands of the apostle receiving communion are not concealed in the himation; this is only visible with the apostle behind the communicant. On the Riha paten, the himation is on the hands only when receiving the Holy Blood, whereas on the Stuma paten, it is present when receiving both species. Based on the first point outlined above, these differences cannot be attributed to a different rite; therefore, there must be another reason for the variation in the depictions.

Regarding the use of the himation, rather than some more abstract, elusive spiritual significance in holding it horizontally like a cloth, we may surmise a more concrete, practical-spiritual reason stemming from reverence for the Holy Eucharist: the endeavour to prevent the Body and Blood from falling. If, however, this is the case, it is at first incomprehensible why, in the Rossano Codex, we see hands concealed within the himation only in the case of the apostle preparing for communion. Why does the Rossano Codex not show hands covered by the himation in the case of the apostle closest to Christ? And why is the himation absent from the Riha paten during the reception of the Body?

The reason for this is that, due to the limited scope of the composition, only the scene depicting the teaching intended to be conveyed could be included: the frame from the ‘cartoon’ that carries a very essential teaching.

The use of the himation at the moment of communion probably took place in every instance as depicted on the Stuma paten.

The reconstructed sequence of the Eucharist:

1. Before the person preparing for communion reaches the celebrant, they spread their himation over both hands. Since this may have been done for the reason mentioned above, it would make no sense for them to do so if the himation were not already on their hands at the time of communion; it can therefore be assumed that it was always in place.

2. At the moment of communion, the communicant stands bowed, holding his hands, covered by the himation, outstretched beneath the minister’s hands, both when receiving the Body and the Blood. Furthermore, at the moment of communion, his hands do not touch either the chalice or the bread.

3. The minister places the Host in the communicant’s mouth. In doing so, he does not hold the paten in his hand, but takes the Host from the paten on the altar table with his right hand, whilst holding his left palm beneath it so that not a single crumb falls. The communicant’s himation, held horizontally, acts as a ‘safety cloth’ to prevent the sacred species from falling… (as can be seen in the video linked at the end of the text)

4. Immediately after Communion, the images suggest that the communicant leans towards the minister’s hand and kisses the back of their right hand – but only upon receiving the Body.

5. After the kiss of the hand, the communicant stands (Rossano Codex, Riha paten) or bows (Stuma paten), raising empty palms to the sky or extending them forward in thanksgiving.

Instead of the reception of the Holy Body, all three objects depicted show a kiss given to the back of Christ’s right hand; for if they were to depict the Body being placed in the mouth, the celebrant would not be leaning towards the back of the hand. If there was indeed a kiss on the minister’s hand immediately after Communion, this would not have been possible during the reception of the Precious Blood, as the minister held the chalice with both hands, and its contents could easily have spilled if the communicant had leaned towards the minister’s hand. And since, due to the narrow frames, only the essentials could be depicted in such a pictorial composition, the moment of receiving the Body is not visible in any of them.

The reason for this may well be found in the didactic nature of the church scene, which can be regarded as the archetype for the depiction of the Apostles’ Communion: since there is a difference regarding whether a kiss of the hand takes place during the reception of the two elements, it was necessary to emphasise to the congregation when depicting the Communion that the teaching should be before their eyes: one may only kiss the minister’s hand after receiving the Body, but not after receiving the Precious Blood.

To be concluded next week.

Ss Primus and Felician, and the Emptying of the Catacombs

Today is the feast day of Ss Primus and Felician, who were martyred around the year 297. The traditional account of their passion is not regarded as historically reliable, but there is no doubt of the fact of their martyrdom, or of the antiquity of devotion to them. They are said to have been brothers of the Roman patrician class who devoted themselves to works of charity; Primus was quite elderly when they were arrested for the practice of the Christian Faith. The judge who tried them separated them from each other, and tried to convince each one to sacrifice to the pagan gods by saying that the other had already done so. Neither of them was deceived, and so they were taken to a place about 12 miles from Rome near the town of Nomentum, and there beheaded. After the end of the persecutions, a church was built over the site of their burial, but this no longer exists.

The martyrdom of Ss Primus and Felician, depicted in a collection of Saints’ lives known as the Weissenau Passionary, 1170-1200. (Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.) Felician, looking much like Jesus, is the one in the middle being nailed to a tree trunk, while Primus is lying down with his hands tied, and having molten lead poured into his mouth.

What makes these two Saints particularly noteworthy for us today is that they were the very first whose relics were removed from the site of their original burial and brought into a Roman church. This took place around the year 645, in the reign of Pope Theodore I, and is important for two reasons. The first is that is shows that by the mid-7th century, Christianity had definitively broken many of the ancient Roman taboos about the treatment of the dead. The foremost of these would be the very ancient law which required that they be kept apart from the living in their own places, the “necropolises”, or cities of the dead, outside the walls of the cities of the living. Furthermore, the Romans had many prohibitions of both a legal and religious nature about moving bodies at all from their original burial places, which were now also evidently set aside.

Two Roman mausolea in the necropolis just outside the walls on the southeast side of Pompei. Image from Wikimedia Commons by Diego Delso, (delso.photo, CC BY-SA 4.0).

This in turn would make possible one of the most important shifts in the history of early Christian archeology, the gradual emptying of the catacombs. The Roman prohibition on burying the dead inside the city walls applied to the Christians as much as to anybody else, which is why they made their underground cemeteries, which we now call the catacombs, outside the city. For the first three centuries after the end of the persecution, these cemeteries continued to be used for burials, but also became pilgrimage sites for those who wanted to venerate the tombs of the martyrs buried within them. By the time of Pope Theodore, however, the political instability of Italy made such pilgrimages out into the countryside potentially very dangerous, and part of his motivation for moving the martyrs into Rome itself would certainly have been so that pilgrims could venerate their relics in the relative safety of the city.

Over the next few centuries, therefore, the catacombs would be completely emptied of Saints’ relics, such that by the 10th century, we have a graffito at the entrance of one of them which says, “Turn around, there’s nothing to see here”, meaning that all of the martyrs had been taken away to the churches. When the catacombs were excavated in modern times, only one grave which certainly belongs to a martyr was found still undisturbed, that of St Hyacinth (Sept. 11) in the catacomb of Bassilla on the via Salaria.

Empty graves in the catacomb of Domitilla in Rome. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by Giovanni Battista, CC BY-SA 4.0.) 

Pope Theodore built a chapel for Saints Primus and Felician at the church of St Stephen on the Caelian hill, generally known as “Santo Stefano Rotondo – round St Stephen’s”, the only round church built in Rome in ancient times. Although the entire building has been extensively rebuilt and redecorated since its original construction, a fair portion of the apsidal mosaic of this chapel remains in good condition. At the bottom is a poetic inscription in Latin: Aspicis auratum caelesti culmine tectum, / Astriferumque micans praeclaro lumine vultum. (You look upon a gilded roof with its height in heaven, and a star-bearing face that shines with brilliant light. Photo by Fr Lawrence Lew, O.P.)

Catholic Education Foundation Seminar 2026: The Role of the Priest in Today’s Catholic School

July 14-16, Cincinnati, Ohio

The 12th annual Catholic education conference for bishops, priests, and seminarians will take place July 14-16, at Mount St. Mary’s Seminary, the Athenaeum in Cincinnati, Ohio; it is offered by the Catholic Education Foundation and led, as usual, by Fr Peter Stravinskas, who is the Executive Director of the CEF. He is also Dean of the Faculty of Education at Pontifex University, which offers the program he designed, the Master’s in Education in Catholic School Administration, and an Education Doctorate.

The intended audience is bishops, priests, and seminarians, and the seminar is based on the conviction that the viability of Catholic schools is directly proportional to the presence and activity of priests.

Further information can be found on the CEF website: catholiceducation.foundation or by calling: 215-327-5754; or emailing Fr Stravinskas directly at fstravinskas@hotmail.com

The cost is $700 (all-inclusive).

Speakers are:

• Rev. Peter M. J. Stravinskas (President, Catholic Education Foundation)
• Rev. John Belmonte, SJ (Superintendent of Schools, Diocese of Venice)
• Deacon Sean Costello (Superintendent of Schools, Diocese of Winona-Rochester)
• Rev. Michael Davis (Pastor, Archdiocese of Miami & Professor, Pontifex University)
• Carlos de Quesada (Vera Cruz Advisory)
• John Dejak (Director, Secretariat of Catholic Education, United States Conference of Catholic Bishops
• Brian Dorrian (Philosophy Department Head, Charlotte Catholic High School)
• Johann D’Souza (Clinical Psychologist)
• Sr. Mary Grace Walsh, ASCJ (Superintendent of Schools, Archdiocese of New York)
• Rev. James Kuroly (Rector/President, Cathedral Prep School & Seminary, Diocese of Brooklyn)
• Rev. Msgr. Thomas Machalski (Pastor, Diocese of Brooklyn)
• Rev. Christopher Peschel (Pastor & Diocesan School Board Member, Fall River, Massachusetts)
• Dr. Robert Royal (Editor, The Catholic Thing)
• Rev. Msgr. Joseph Schaedel (Vicar General Emeritus & Pastor Emeritus, Archdiocese of Indianapolis)
• Br. Owen Sadlier. OSF (Professor, St. Joseph Seminary, New York)

The seminar will include workshops dealing with the following topics: 

• Conciliar and Papal Teaching on Catholic Education
• The History of Catholic Education in the United States
• The Priest’s Presence in the School Community (Students, Faculty,
• Administration, Parents)
• The Priest as the Public Relations Man of the School
• Financial Concerns
• Models of Governance and Best Practices

For further information: call 215-327-5754 or email fstravinskas@hotmail.com.

The Sermon on the Mount, by Jan Brueghel

A Memoir on the Battle to Bring the Latin Mass to the Military

David Sonnier, a 1981 West Point graduate, loved the Army and worked to be a model soldier. A bend in his career path brought him into contact for the first time with the traditional Mass. His life, with that of his family, was changed forever—something quite a few Catholics can relate to!

Naturally, he wanted to share this great good with fellow soldiers, many of whom, as he discovered, were already longing for something more reverent and traditional than they were getting in their chapels.

Sonnier began respectfully petitioning for a traditional Latin Mass to be offered on the bases where he served, in accordance with the policy of John Paul II's letter Ecclesia Dei. He watched in disbelief as chaplains at every level and several bishops, over the course of six years, made every effort to thwart his efforts, stopping at nothing and stooping to any ruse.

In his gripping memoir Rites and Wrongs: One Man's Struggle for the Latin Mass in the U.S. Army, just released by Os Justi Press, Lt. Col. Sonnier relates—documentary evidence in hand—the tangled web of lies, backstabbing, slander, double-crossing, bureaucratic manipulation, letters intercepted and undelivered, veiled threats, and secret meetings, all to ensure that no Latin Mass would ever be celebrated on a military installation, even when willing priests were available. 

The 97-percent-Christian chaplaincy at the time allowed chapels to be used for Protestant praise & worship services and even Wiccan pagan ceremonies (!), but the TLM was subjected to a perpetual ban. When an exasperated Sonnier finally took his story to the press, it was taken up in major newspapers and eventually reached the floor of Congress in Washington, DC.

A true story from a dark period (those who do not know how bad things were before Summorum Pontificum can use this as a crash course), Sonnier's first-person account ranges through the world of the Colombian Army, Special Operations, Fort Bragg, NATO, and the Vatican. A cast of colorful characters enters the drama: Michael Davies, Bishop Timlin, Msgr. Calkins, Msgr. Perl, Cardinal Castrillon Hoyos, and clergy from the Institute of Christ the King and the Society of St. Pius X, together with a whole roomful of multi-star generals and their entourages—plus authoritarian chaplains who launch into spittle-flecked nutties at the slightest mention of Latin, chant, or anything reminiscent of Catholicism before the 1960s. also play a role.

Though active or retired servicemembers and lovers of military history will especially appreciate this memoir, Rites and Wrongs is a captivating read for any Catholic who relishes a story full of life-changing realizations, backroom intrigues, surprising reversals, and hard-earned wisdom. Lt. Col. Sonnier's candor and courage shine through these pages, full of valuable lessons for life, faith, and freedom.

For a brief video introduction to the book:

To look inside, see the endorsements, or order a copy in paperback, hardcover, or ebook, visit this page.

Rites and Wrongs is also available from any Amazon site around the world (e.g., in the USA here).

A Motet and Mass by Palestrina for Corpus Christi

Here is another big win for the YouTube suggestion algorithm, a motet by Palestrina which has the first two verses of the epistle of Corpus Christi (1 Corinthians 11, 23-29) as its text. For simplicity’s sake, I have titled this post “for Corpus Christi”. But our friend Thomas Neal, who is an expert on Palestrina, tells me that the exact occasion for which it was composed is unknown; it may have been written for Holy Thursday instead.

“Brethren: I indeed have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you, that the Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread, and giving thanks, broke it, and said, ‘Take ye, and eat: this is my body, which shall be delivered for you: this do for the commemoration of me.’”

The motet is preserved in only one manuscript (preserved in the archives of the Cappella Giulia in the Vatican), which dates to around 1584, and contains many other pieces copied out in Palestrina’s own hand. He later used it as the basis of a very beautiful Mass for eight voices, which is therefore called the Missa Fratres, ego enim accepi, published posthumously in 1601.

Relics of St Norbert

Today is the feast of St Norbert, the founder of the Premonstratensian Order, who died in 1134 as archbishop of Magdeburg, in the modern German state of Saxony-Anhalt, and was buried in the choir of his order’s local church. The city was one of the first to turn Protestant in the 16th-century, and although the Saint’s relics were not profaned, as were those of so many others, it was no longer possible for Catholics to venerate them. During the Thirty Years’ War, however, the abbot of Strahov, the Premonstratensian house in Prague, was able to recover them during a temporary Catholic occupation of the area, and bring them to back to his abbey, where they were officially installed on May 2nd, 1627, and have remained to this day.

The shrine of St Norbert in the choir of Strahov Abbey.

The Premonstratensians traditionally kept a feast on May 7th of the translation of St Norbert’s relics; the Matins lessons of the second nocturn state that when the original burial site was opened, the skeleton was found intact. These photographs were taken several years ago during another recognitio (verification) of the condition of the bones. 

Here are some great old photographs of the shrine in Strahov Abbey, and of a procession held in Prague with the relics; they are not precisely dated, but František Kordač, who was Archbishop of Prague from 1919-31, is shown in the procession.

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