Monday, September 09, 2024

Who Was Monsignor Domenico Celada? An Inquiry into an Early Critic of the Reform

All photos are from Celada’s book Arcobaleno Beat [Rainbow Beat] of 1969. The captions here read: Another seedy aspect of the “beat” mass: near the altar the “nightclub instruments.” / Oratory of St. Philip Neri in Rome (Borromini Hall at the Chiesa Nuova), April 1964. Preview of the performance of the “beat” mass in Italy.

As one reads literature on the liturgical reform, and particularly the reactions of its critics, one is bound to come across the name Domenico Celada. Sometimes he is referred to as “Msgr.” and other times as “Bishop.” (As we will see, this is probably due to confusion over the fact that in some European languages, all bishops are addressed as “Msgr.”: a very confusing practice, since there are also “mere” monsignors to take into account.)

Celada’s identity is shrouded in mystery. The statements attributed to him online are so amazingly audacious that one might begin to worry that he (or his commentary) has been partly fabricated. He is not listed in any listing of the Italian hierarchy, so episcopal status is out of the question. Some reports say he was a professor. Some say he signed off on Sacrosanctum Concilium.

As it turns out, Msgr. Domenico Celada was indeed a real person, although there is no evidence to suggest he was a Council Father (and I have never been able to source any photograph of him). He was a cleric, organist, composer, author, and possibly a professor at the Lateran (an inquiry submitted to the Lateran about his possible tenure there received no response). Before 1969, he was better known as a composer and music reviewer/contributor. In 1958, for example, he authored a book on a Milanese basilica: Guida alla Basilica di S. Marco in Milano. A quick search of Google Books or HathiTrust will show an interesting array of reviews and articles about Celada as organist and composer. More examples will be given below.

In 1967, the Catholic News Service reported that Msgr. Celada had been robbed. They referred to him as the “secretary of the Sistine Chapel.” I am not sure what this title signifies. Celada was, however, director of a music journal called Cappella Sistina. It seems the thief knew a thing or two about how to escape with the goods:


On February 2, 1966, Celada was named in a National Catholic Reporter article on a controversial vernacular (Italian) Mass. The NCR noted that Celada “approved” of some anti-vernacular articles, but did not thoroughly condemn the vernacular “experiment.” The rules about what vernacular was officially allowed in the Mass were a point of confusion for many; a month after this dust-up, The Catholic Advocate wrote a small note about Pope Paul VI announcing that Latin was to be preserved in Rome’s seven patriarchal basilicas, while other churches “have the option of using the vernacular, provided musical adaptations into Italian are ‘well done and consonant with the dignity of the sacrifice’”—a desideratum that was summarily ignored, as anyone knows who has had to suffer the treacly sounds of Italian church music, which is arguably even worse than what you hear in English.

Celada is of particular interest to us because of his alleged virulent stance against vernacular in the liturgy. Curiously, our greatest help will come from Annibale Bugnini’s The Reform of the Liturgy 1948–1975, a great tome of nearly 1,000 pages that details the thought-processes of this mastermind—a book that is so damning, in fact, that the Liturgical Press of St. John’s in Collegeville has refused to bring it back into print after the original publication of 1990 was sold out, in spite of the fact that it is one of a half-dozen most important primary sources on the liturgical reform. (Copies on the used market go for over $200. Readers who are especially interested in the book should contact me.)

In any case, Celada’s articles are mentioned three times in Bugnini’s book:
  • Chapter 20, page 282, footnote 12 (reference to Arcobaleno Beat)
  • Chapter 20, page 289, footnote 23 (reference to Lo Specchio)
  • Chapter 59, page 911, footnote 20 (reference to Cappella Sistina)
Bugnini describes Arcobaleno Beat (concerning which, see infra) as “a combination of charges and pornography.”
 
Captions: A characteristic aspect of the “beat” phenomenon: hysteria reaches individual and collective paroxysm: the destruction of musical instruments at the end of a performance. / From freedom to license; in license, pornography and bad taste inexorably associated.

In chapter 15, Conferences, III: Relations with the Directors of Liturgical Periodicals, Bugnini comments (p. 229) on the last-named periodical:
These meetings were very useful for establishing bonds of fraternal collaboration with the liturgical journals. This is not to deny that there were at times different views on the two sides and that the Consilium had to take a sometimes strong position against certain periodicals, whether for proposals that were too advanced and debatable or for hostility to the reform. In particular, an attack launched by Roman composers led to an intervention of the Consilium not long after the second meeting with the editors of periodicals. The first shot was fired in an editorial of the Bolletino Ceciliano entitled “La colpa è tutta dei musicisti!” (It’s all the musicians’ fault). It was a defense of traditional music and an attack on the promoters of the reform. In support of this outlook, a new journal was started, Capella Sistina, which in its very first issue made a direct attack on the Constitution on the Liturgy. Reaction was not long in coming, and a sharp debate ensued that was made even more bitter by the eminence of the persons engaged in it.
The footnote here mentions the other periodical with which Celada was associated: “Such Italian newspapers and periodicals as 1l Messagero, Il Tempo, Il Borghese, Lo specchio, and Candido took a hand, as did, in private, ecclesiastics and composers who bombarded higher authorities with ‘memoranda.’”

If one knows where to look, these journals come up repeatedly in this turbulent era. Bugnini’s memoirs elsewhere mentioned another important journal, Vigilia Romana.
Caption: Top: Fr Annibale Bugnini, rightly considered the “great protector of the ‘beat’ liturgy.” He currently serves as secretary of the sacred congregation of Divine Worship. Bottom: Fr. Giovanni Rossi (right), age 83, founder of Assisi’s “Pro Civitate Christiana,” a fervent propagandist of the “beat” Mass, and Bishop Placidio Niccolini, age 93, who was the first celebrant of the youth Mass.
 
Top: Adriana Zarri, age 53, the theologian of progressive Catholics and “egeria nymph” of the “liturgical” hippies; Bottom: Dominican Father Sinaldo Sinaldi one of the most rabid barkers of the Italian “beat” masses. [My comment: looking at such photos makes one realize the extent to which the clergy were swept up in this nonsense.]

Key articles by Celada

D. Celada, “L’assurdo della messa ye-ye” : Cappella Sistina, n. 10 (April-June 1966) 61-68.

D. Celada, “Dissacrazione e sacralizzazione”: Cappella Sistina, n. 13 (January-March 1967) 159.

Celada was both a contributor to and director of this journal, which started in 1964. The library at Mundelein (which holds most, but not all, of the issues) confirmed that he wrote articles for 9 out of 11 issues they hold: 1-4, and 8-12. They do not hold issues 6-7 and 13-14, or any issues after 15. Other sources provide an article of his from issue 13, so it is reasonable to assume he wrote articles for every issue. Proof of his director role in the journal can be found on the final page of each journal: “Domenico Celada Direttore Responsabile.”

D. Celada, “La mini-messa contro il dogma,” Lo Specchio, June 29, 1969.

Celada wrote at least one article for Lo Specchio. The full text for this article has not yet been located. It is very likely that he wrote numerous articles for them, but they are difficult to trace because there are many journals with this name.

Mons. Domenico Celada, “Agli assassini della Liturgia,” Vigilia Romana, Anno III, N. 11, November 1971. Translation provided here.

This website and this one both allege to have the full text of this article. This journal is perhaps the most interesting one of all. Vigilia Romana was published from 1969-74. It is alleged that one of its sponsors was Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre. The journal ceased publication when one of its founders was arrested as part of the failed Borghese coup of December 7-8, 1970. The Borghese family was behind one of the other journals Bugnini mentioned above, Il Borghese.

There appears to have been noticeable overlap between Italian neo-fascist movements/parties and traditional Catholic organizations, especially among young people. This is not too surprising; lovers of tradition will likely be opposed to liberal and Communist ideas in their country. Franco Antico—traditional Catholic journal founder, intelligence informant, coup participant—presents an attractive rabbit hole, but further details are outside the scope of this article. For more history on Vigilia Romana, see Giuseppe Brienza, “Il Movimento Civiltà Cristiana e La Rivista Cattolica Vigilia Romana (1969-1974),” Fides Catholica, Anno V, no. 1, 2010. Vigilia Romana also has a page on the Italian Wikipedia.

In terms of text, there seems to be no single institution that holds the original issues of Vigilia Romana! If anyone who reads this article has copies sitting in a box in the attic, or knows where such a box might be found, please contact me.

The most serious drama of the “beat” world: drugs, unfailing in all manifestations of that environment, produce moral and material disorder / Desecration and Sacralization. Here are four examples of a ballet entitled: “Mass for the Present Time” performed in Brussels and Paris, September 1967.


Other works by Celada

An article published late in February 1969 in the periodical Il Tempo has been translated here.

Bartolucci, Domenico. 1967. The Sistine Choir in concert at the Vatican. Everest. Program notes by Domenica Celada, translated by Giveon Cornfield, on slipcase.

Celada, Domenico. 1958. “Le sette arche marmoree della Basilica di San Marco in Milano”. Arte Figurativa Antica e Moderna. 44-49.

Celada, Domenico. 1957. “Affreschi nel campanile della Basilica di S. Marco in Milano”. Arte Figurativa Antica e Moderna. 34-38.

Trabaci, Giovanni, and Domenico Celada. 1963. Composizioni per organo: (dal 1. libro ricercari e canzoni). Roma: Libreria Editrice S. Cecila.

Trabaci, Giovanni Maria, and Domenico Celada. 1963. Ricercate e canzone per organo. Roma: Libreria Editrice S. Cecilia.

Diruta, Girolamo, Floriano Arresti, Giovanni Maria Trabaci, and Domenico Celada. 1962. Sei composizioni per organo. Roma: Libreria editrice musicale AISC.

Celada, Domenico. 1958. Guida alla Basilica di S. Marco in Milano. Milano: Tip. Bertolotti.

Celada, Domenico. 1969. Arcobaleno beat. Roma: Marini.

See an Italian review here. This book appears to be a partial history of music, with a particular emphasis on new trends in liturgical music. I think it would offer a detailed look into the opponents of the reforms, and their arguments as professional musicians. Simply reading the captions of the various photos as well as the Table of Contents makes me seriously wonder if Joseph Ratzinger could have read this book, as the parallels between Ratzinger’s critique of rock music and Celada’s treatment of the characteristics of the 1960s counterculture have striking parallels.

My cordial thanks to Sharon Kabel for assisting me in the research that went into this article.

Visit Dr. Kwasniewski’s Substack “Tradition & Sanity”; personal site; composer site; publishing house Os Justi Press and YouTube, SoundCloud, and Spotify pages.

Sunday, September 08, 2024

The Song of Songs on the Feast of the Virgin’s Nativity

Before the Tridentine reform, very few feasts had Scriptural readings in the first nocturn of the Divine Office. On Saints’ days, it was typical for readings of their lives to supply all the Matins lessons, while on those of Our Lord and Our Lady, the first two nocturns were usually taken up with a sermon about the feast, and the third by a homily on the Gospel read at Mass. There were, however, certain exceptions to this, such as Christmas and Epiphany, which always had the same readings from Isaiah that they do today. Among the feasts of the Virgin Mary, only that of her Nativity had Scriptural readings; these were taken from the Song of Songs, or Canticle of Canticles, as it was traditionally known in the Latin West, from its title in the Vulgate, “Canticum Canticorum.”

Two pages of a breviary according to the Use of Prague, printed in 1502, with the Office of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary; the Canticle of Canticles is read in both the first and second nocturns. In many Bibles of this period, the Canticle also had notes added to the text to indicate who is speaking, as explained below: these were often incorporated into breviaries as well, as seen here. (Click image to enlarge.)
When the Birth of the Virgin was given an octave in the mid-13th century, readings from the Canticle were supplied for the days within it, but in the Tridentine reform, this arrangement was transferred to the Assumption. Readings from the Canticle were retained for September 8th and 15th, but in the reform of St Pius X, the latter date became the feast of the Seven Sorrows, which has readings from the Lamentations instead. After making the solemn dogmatic definition of the Assumption in 1950, Pius XII promulgated a new Office for it which has Genesis and First Corinthians in the first nocturn, so the custom is now retained only in its original place.

Pope St Gregory the Great (busily writing a Biblical commentary in cope and tiara, as one does), ca. 1370, by the Bohemian painter known as Master Theodoric, active in Prague ca. 1360-80.
The Canticle is, of course, one of the most difficult books of the Bible to interpret. Writing in the mid-3rd century, the great Biblical scholar Origen begins his commentary on it by noting that among the Jews, it is one of the parts of Scripture which the young are not allowed to read, and is “reserved for study till the last.” St Gregory of Nyssa (335-95 ca.), who, like the other Cappadocian Fathers, was greatly influenced by Origen, refers to it repeatedly as a mystery: “Through the title ‘Song of Songs’, the noble text also promises to teach us the mystery of mysteries.” In the West, St Gregory the Great’s commentary became the standard work on the subject; he begins his prologue by stating that “through certain aenigmata, the divine Word speaks to the cold and languid soul, and from the things which it knows, insinuates to it in a hidden way that love which it knows not.” The word aenigmata (the plural of aenigma) means “things which are enigmatical or dark in a figurative representation; allegories; things which are obscure or inexplicable; riddles, enigmas, obscurities, mysteries.” It entered the Latin language from Greek partly through the Vulgate version of 1 Corinthians 13, 12, a verse which the King James Version renders with one its most intriguing and often-used turns of phrase, “We see now through a glass darkly.”
The beginning of the Song of Songs in Bible printed at Strassbourg in 1481, with the Glossa Ordinaria and other commentary material printed in any around it, as was commonly done in that era. (There is a another “glossa ordinaria” for the law code of Justinian, which was produced by scholars at the University of Bologna at the same time as the Biblical one.)   
In the early 12th century, a group of scholars associated with the cathedral school of Laon in France put together a collection of glosses on the text of the whole Bible. This became one of the standard text books for the rest of the Middle Ages and beyond, and was therefore known as the “Glossa Ordinaria”. In its section on the Canticle of Canticles, many of the glosses explain certain verses by the speaker; for example, the opening words “Let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth” is explained as “The voice of those who lived before the coming of Christ, who pray to the father of the bridegroom, who is Christ.”
Since the Canticle was regarded as an especially difficult text, many early printed Bibles contain a series of very brief notes interpolated into the text of it, which are derived from the Glossa Ordinaria, or one of the other works of Biblical interpretation that were commonly read in the Middle Ages, the Postillae of Hugh of St Cher, and the commentary of the Franciscan Nicholas of Lyra.
Here, then, is the text of the first chapter of the Canticle of Canticles, with the notes as printed in the Bible shown above.
The beginning of the Song of Songs, with the glosses in red, from a Latin Bible printed at Nuremberg in 1516. (The rest of the book is seen below; the type is small enough that the whole book fits into two pages.) 
The voice of the one who longs for the coming of Christ. Let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth: for thy breasts are better than wine, smelling sweet of the best ointments. The voice of the Church to Christ. Thy name is as oil poured out: therefore young maidens have loved thee. Draw me: we will run after thee to the odour of thy ointments. The voice of the bride to the young women. The king hath brought me into his storerooms: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, remembering thy breasts more than wine: the righteous love thee. The Church (speaking) about its sufferings  I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon. Do not consider me that I am brown, because the sun hath altered my colour: the sons of my mother have fought against me, they have made me the keeper in the vineyards: my vineyard I have not kept. The voice of the Church to Christ.  Shew me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou liest in the midday, lest I begin to wander after the flocks of thy companions. The voice of Christ to the Church.  If thou know not thyself, O fairest among women, go forth, and follow after the steps of the flocks, and feed thy kids beside the tents of the shepherds. To my company of horsemen, in Pharao's chariots, have I likened thee, O my love. Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtledove's, thy neck as jewels. The voice of the friends (of the bridegroom).  We will make thee chains of gold, inlaid with silver. The voice of the Church (speaking) about Christ. While the king was at his repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof. ₁₂ A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my breasts. ₁₃ A cluster of cypress my love is to me, in the vineyards of Engaddi. The voice of Christ. ₁₄ Behold thou art fair, O my love, behold thou art fair, thy eyes are as those of doves. The voice of the Church. ₁₅ Behold thou art fair, my beloved, and comely. Our bed is flourishing. ₁₆ The beams of our houses are of cedar, our rafters of cypress trees.

The Nativity of the Virgin Mary 2024

Look, o man, up the counsel of God, know the counsel of wisdom, the counsel of holiness. When He was to water the ground with heavenly dew, first He poured it upon the whole fleece (Judges 6, 37-40); when He was to redeem the human race, He conferred the whole price thereof upon Mary. Why was this? Perhaps so that Eve might be excused through her daughter, and the man’s complaint against the woman might be laid to rest. Say thou no longer, Adam, “The woman, whom Thou gavest me, gave me of the forbidden tree;” (Gen. 3, 12) say rather, “The woman, whom Thou gavest me, fed me with blessed fruit.” …

The Nativity of the Virgin, by Pietro Lorenzetti, 1335-42; originally painted for one the side-altars of the Cathedral of Siena, now in the Cathedral Museum.
Therefore from the depth our heart, with all the depth of our affection, and in all our prayers let us venerate this Mary; for such is the will of Him who willed us to have all through Mary. This, I say, is His will, but it is for our own sake. For indeed, in all things and through all things taking care for the wretched, He comforteth us in our alarm, stirreth up our faith, strengthens our hope, driveth away our diffidence, raiseth up our weakness. Thou didst fear to draw near to the Father, terrified at His voice, thou fled to (cover thyself with) leaves; He gave thee Jesus as an intercessor. What might such a Son not obtain from such a Father? He will indeed be heard for His reverence, (Hebr. 5, 7) for the Father loveth the Son. (John 3, 35) He is thy brother, and thy flesh, tempted in all things (like as we are, but) without sin, that He might become merciful. (Hebr. 4, 15 and 2, 17) Mary gave thee this brother.
- From St Bernard of Clairvaux’s Sermon on the Nativity of the Virgin Mary (P.L. 183, 0437D et seqq.)

Saturday, September 07, 2024

The Feast of St Cloud

September 7th is noted in the Martyrology as the feast day of St Clodoaldus, whose name in English is “Cloud”, and usually pronounced by English-speakers as it is written, as in “raincloud.” It is written the same in French, but the D is silent; by a pun with the word “clou”, he is honored as the Patron Saint of nail-makers. His feast is traditionally included in the supplement of missals and breviaries printed for use in the United States, since he is also the Patron Saint of the Diocese of St Cloud, Minnesota. The city’s name was chosen by a man of Huguenot ancestry, not in honor of the Saint, but from the name of the Parisian suburb where Napoleon had his favorite palace.

Clodoaldus was the youngest of three boys born to Clodomir, the second son of Clovis, King of the Franks, whose baptism heralded the general conversion of his people to Christianity. After the death of their father, the three boys were raised by their grandmother Clotilda, who is also a Saint. (The family’s penchant for names beginning in “Clo-” makes them rather hard to keep track of.) In the midst of the very complicated, and absolutely horrifying, dynastic struggles of the Merovingian kings, the two older brothers were murdered by their uncle Clotaire. Clodoaldus escaped to Provence, where he became a hermit, renouncing any idea of reclaiming the royal title and dignity that were rightfully his.

Part of a painting by Charles Durupt (1831) in the church of St Clodoaldus in St Cloud, France. The Saint is shown cutting his hair as a sign of his renunciation of his rights to the throne, consecrating himself to the monastic life. At the time, long hair was a privilege of princes. (Image from the church’s website.)
This was hardly typical of either the era or the family, and the Parisian Breviary of 1847 makes note it by saying that he “was not spurned by the world, as much as he spurned it.” After some time, he returned to Paris and set himself under the rule of a holy monk called Severinus; the place where he established his hermitage was later named for him, the future site of the aforementioned suburb. He was ordained a priest, and spent the rest of his short life in the religious instruction of the people, dying at the age of 36 ca. 560 A.D. The Parisian Breviary also notes that his relics were saved from the profanations that took place during the Revolution, and later exposed once again for the veneration of the faithful.

Relics of St Clodoaldus in the altar of the above-named church. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by Reinhardhauke.)
Fr Alban Butler was an alumnus of the English College in Douai, France, and began working on his famous Lives of the Saints while serving there as a professor; he was later appointed to the English College at St Omer. Since these institutions in northern France were so important to English Catholicism in penal times, he understandably devotes a good deal of space to French Saints. The original version of his work contained a lot of material in the way of moral exhortation based on the Saints’ lives, material which Fr Herbert Thurston, S.J., and Donald Attwater removed almost completely when they revised it in the 20th century. One of the very few such passages which they retained was part of Butler’s entry for St Cloud, a quotation which he took from the 15th-century Italian humanist and scholar Pico della Mirandola. The wisdom of these words seems to me especially important today, when politics seems to have gained the power to spread into and poison everything.

“Many think it a man’s greatest happiness in this life to enjoy dignity and power and to live amid the riches and splendour of a court. Of these you know I have had a share; and I can assure you I could never find in my soul true satisfaction in anything but retreat and contemplation. I am persuaded that the Caesars, if they could speak from their sepulchres, would declare Pico more happy in his solitude than they were in the government of the world; and if the dead could return, they would choose the pangs of a second death rather than risk their salvation again in public offices.” Amen.

Friday, September 06, 2024

Durandus on the “Dominus Vobiscum”

Following up on last week’s Lost in Translation on the “Dominus Vobiscum”, here are some excerpts from William Durandus’ Rationale Divinorum Officiorum (IV, 14), the Summa Theologica of medieval liturgical commentaries, which explain its use and meaning in the rite of Mass

When the angelic hymn (i.e. the Gloria in excelsis) is finished, the priest, turning towards the people, greets them by saying, “The Lord be with you”, which is taken from the book of Ruth (2, 4), for thus do we read that Boaz greeted his harvesters. Likewise, the prophet in Chronicles (2 Par. 15, 2) greets king Asa and those who were with him, and the Angel greeting Gideon says, “The Lord be with you.” (Judges 6, 12) Boaz is a figure of the Savior, who took Ruth the woman of Moab as his wife, and this greeting signifies the greeting which Christ made to the Apostles after the Resurrection.

Landscape with Ruth and Boaz, ca. 1823-25, by the Austrian painter Joseph Anton Koch (1768-1839). 
Therefore, in all the prayers of the Mass the priest begins with “The Lord be with you”, (he lists the exceptions). For since through this greeting the wish is expressed that the Lord be with his people, and He is with them through the spirit of sevenfold grace, therefore the Church has ordained that the people be greeted in the Mass seven times.
5. The choir and the people answer “And with your spirit”, which is taken from the Second Epistle to Timothy (4, 22) in which is said, “The Lord Jesus Christ be with thy spirit,” for the mutual greetings of this sort signify that the priest and people must be of one mind. The meaning is, “You are about to make prayers for us to the Lord, and because the Lord God approves and hears only those prayers which come forth from a good heart, we likewise also pray for you, so that He without Whom there is no good thing may be with your spirit, and so that He who is with you in the mouth be also in the heart and remain in you.” … by this response the people refers itself solely to the action of sacrifice to which the priest goes forth, in which he must be wholly lifted up through the spirit, and completely separated from all earthly cares.
But after the choir answers, he turns towards the altar, that is to the east… and, as if he had very little confidence in his own goodness, he gathers to himself the whole Church, saying as the representative of all, “Let us pray.” This means, “Pray together with me, all of you, so that we may the more swiftly obtain what we ask,” since it is impossible that the multitude should not be heard… by saying, “Let us pray”, he exhorts others to pray, because Christ himself told his disciples to pray, saying, “Pray that ye enter not into temptation,” (Matt. 26, 41), Afterwards he prays because Christ afterwards prayed… we have this custom from the ancients, who regularly put “Let us pray” before their prayers.
7. The bishop … who must be perfect, and bears an express likeness to Christ, in order to show himself as the vicar of Christ, when he is about to pray the first time (at Mass) uses the word of the Lord, saying, “Peace be with you”, the first thing the Lord said to his disciples when He appeared to them after the resurrection. … but afterwards he says, “The Lord be with you” in the manner of other priests, to show that he is one of them.
8. A deacon does not say “The Lord be with you” at the Hours, since he does not thus bear the type of Christ … as the priests who use it in the person of Christ. However, he does say it when he is reading the Gospel, because then he fulfills the office of a preacher, and pronounces the teaching which comes immediately from Christ Himself. He also does this when blessing the paschal candle, because then he represents the resurrection of Christ. Now there are some who say nevertheless that in the Divine Offices which they are bound to say, they can licitly they say this, since we do not read that this is prohibited, but the general use of the Church contradicts this, so that they may know themselves to be inferior to the priests. (In Durandus’ time, there was no lack of priests to lead the Divine Office, but the Church did later change this custom generally, so that deacons would also say, “The Lord be with you” at the appointed places.)
9. It should be noted that the people are greeted seven times in the Mass, so that the seven capital vices may be excluded, and they may receive grace sevenfold, for the mystery of the Mass is referred to the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit.
10. Now although we regularly turn our face towards those whom we greet, nevertheless the priest turns himself to the people only on the four of these occasions. For at the greeting which is done before the Gospel, he does not turn himself, because he is already intent on announcing the words of God. He also does not turn before the preface, for he is already intent upon the sacrifice of the altar; nor before the kiss of peace, because he already holds the Body of Christ in his hands, and has his heart lifted up to God, wholly intent on treating it with reverence; for no one putting his hand to the plow and looking backwards is fit for the Kingdom of God. (Luke 9, 62)
11. … the priest always turns to the people by the right, and turns back towards the altar on the same side, as if to say by doing this, “The right hand of the Lord hath wrought strength: the right hand of the Lord hath exalted me: the right hand of the Lord hath wrought strength.” (Ps. 117, 16) This also signifies that in the Lord’s tomb, the Angel sat on the right side. Thirdly, by this the priest indicates that he has a right intention for himself and for the people, which reaches out to the heavenly fatherland, which is signified by the right side according to the words of the Song of Songs (2, 6 and 8, 3), “His right hand shall embrace me.” … by turning and greeting the people and then turning back, he exhorts both himself and the people to pray, and prayer must be done for eternal things, which are signified by the right side, for which reason, Christ is said to sit at the right hand of the Father. … Nevertheless, after he says “Pray, brethren” he turns himself to the left … which is more imperfect and weaker, to denote the imperfection of any priest apart from Christ Himself.

Society for Catholic Liturgy Annual Conference, Houston, Texas, September 26-27

The Society for Catholic Liturgy will hold its annual conference at St. Mary’s Seminary in Houston, Texas, on September 26 & 27. The theme this year is “Liturgy & the Human Imagination”; the conference is open to members and non-members alike, and will begin with a members-only reception and a talk by Joseph Pearce. Keynote addresses will be delivered by Drs. David Fagerberg and Alexander Lingas, along with over 35 paper presentations.

Attendees will also enjoy a live concert of Byzantine Chant directed by Dr Lingas and performed by his world class ensemble, Cappella Romana. Masses will be celebrated by Cardinal Daniel DiNardo and Archbishop Leonard Blair. Additionally, Studio io will provide a free guided tour of St. Mary’s at Texas A&M on the afternoon of Wednesday, September 25.

More information, including a full schedule, and the registration link can be found here: https://liturgysociety.org/page/Conference2024

Thursday, September 05, 2024

The Church of the New Liturgy and the New Ecclesiology (Part 1)

We are very grateful to our founder editor, Mr Shawn Tribe, for sharing with us this article from his site Liturgical Arts Journal, his translation of an article originally written in French by Abbé Grégoire Celier. It forms a very illuminating collection of citations from protagonists and proponents of the post-Conciliar reform, some well-known, some less well-known, which demonstrate why they believed that the reform required old church buildings to be modified, and new ones to be built differently. Since it is fairly lengthy, it will be presented here on NLM in two parts. The paragraphs in italics after this oneare Mr Tribe’s own prefatory material. – NLM editor.

This article was originally published in the March 2024 issue of “Lettre à nos frères prêtres” under the title “L’Église de la Nouvelle Liturgie.” The article is republished in English translation here with the kind permission of the author, Abbé Grégoire Celier.
By way of preface, the purpose of Abbé Celier’s article is to investigate the operative principles of many liturgists in the immediate wake that came after the Second Vatican Council, specifically as it related to its impact on the liturgical ordering and architecture of our churches.
Since the Second Vatican Council, many have debated the Council’s actual intentions. Some have understood the Second Vatican Council to be a kind of line, a Rubicon that was crossed, seeing it as a purposeful rupture from the Catholic past and the advent of a new and different church. This is the particular perspective you will encounter here being espoused by these liturgists -- and they celebrate and embrace this idea. In a certain sense their notions will be already quite familiar, in other instances, however, you might find the extent of some of their ideas downright shocking. It must also be noted that these liturgists maintain certain interpretations (for example the idea that the Council demanded ‘versus populum’) that have long since been challenged and proven to be, at very least, highly questionable. However, what is most important here is less the question of the accuracy of their ideas than the mere fact of them.
Whether their ideas about the official intentions for the liturgical reform (and its corresponding, downstream impact on Catholic architecture) were misguided, even willful misinterpretations, or whether they were actually ‘on point’, is an important discussion to have of course, but in order to fruitfully have that conversation, we first need to understand that these interpretations did in fact exist -- and were frequently acted upon. In our own day, much has recently been made of statements made by Arthur Cardinal Roche, current Prefect of the Dicastery for Divine Worship, who came out in opposition to the continued existence of the traditional Roman rite of liturgy, celebrated for so much of the Roman rite’s history, on the premise that it represented a fundamentally different ecclesiology and, as such, there was no room for it at the inn; it is something needing to be stamped out as incompatible with the new ecclesiology. Many rightly took issue with this idea, but what you will find here in this survey is that this is precisely what is espoused by these post-conciliar liturgists. It does, in fact, represent a particular post-conciliar school of thought -- one that Cardinal Roche and some others clearly adhere to and continue to attempt to impose.
Right or wrong, these were (and are) principles held to by some in positions of power within the Church in the decades following the Second Vatican Council. It is the ‘schema’ that defines their own particular approach toward the Church, her liturgy, the liturgical reforms, and yes, even the art, architecture and ordering within our churches.
What this should also reveal is that the popular, dismissive charge of “aestheticism” that is so often bandied about when matters of liturgy and architecture are raised is misguided and should be dropped. Form and content are indeed related. Externals do indeed matter. The medium is, at least in part, the message.
Many will already be aware of this relationship of course, but we can thank Abbé Celier for performing the invaluable service of collecting together these various sources for our consideration It is certainly a topic that would benefit from further, in depth study.
[NOTE: The images accompanying this article were not a part of the original article, nor were they selected by the author. These have been selected by LAJ purely for illustrative purposes.]
-- LAJ
* * *
THE CHURCH OF THE NEW LITURGY
by Abbé Grégoire Celier

Liturgical reform was one of the most important elements of the developments following the Second Vatican Council, if not the most significant. A quote from Paul VI, on January 13, 1965, among many other possible ones, opportunely reminds us of this: “The new religious pedagogy which the present liturgical renewal seeks to establish is grafted in, and almost taking the role of a central engine, in the great movement, inscribed in the constitutional principles of the Church of God, and made easier and more urgent by the progress of human culture [...]”

It is therefore a good idea, then, to look back at this liturgical reform, to gain a better understanding of its foundations, implications and results. We propose to do so here through the lens of the church building. The question of how the liturgy resulting from the Council is incorporated into churches built before the Council is particularly timely for assessing the changes brought about by the reform.
To this end, we have drawn on the reflections and remarks of the best liturgical specialists writing in the wake of Vatican II. They will enable us to identify the problems that arose as the new liturgical forms began to be celebrated, and to grasp in turn what the post-conciliar liturgical reform intends to put before our minds. As these texts were published during the two decades (1965-1985) when the liturgical reform was being implemented, they are written in the present or future tense rather than the past.
The Relationship of Form and Content
These authors begin by pointing out that a church, or any other building for that matter, reflects through its architecture the vision of those who built it. Built for a certain liturgy, a certain ceremonial, a certain theology, it necessarily expresses these values. Through its layout, it creates a particular climate, favourable to the execution of the form of religious expression that presided over its conception. Consequently, “it would be nonsense to take an interest in liturgy without worrying about the layout of the places where it takes place. For there is a profound affinity between the space designed according to art, and the liturgy that unfolds there” (E. Vauthier, ‘L’aménagement des églises’, Esprit et Vie - L’Ami du clergé 27, July 5, 1984, p. 393).
By its very nature, a building is a stable object that stands the test of time. “A building does not change like a rite” (Guy Oury, ‘L’aménagement des églises - Un aspect du renouveau liturgique’, L’Ami du clergé 6, February 10, 1966, p. 89). It thus carries the character of a particular period of the Church’s life into a time when, perhaps, the Church’s life has changed profoundly, which can cause a dissonance between form and content. In the wake of Vatican II, precisely because of the rapid and radical ritual (and theological) evolution, a new liturgy had been deployed in architectural spaces built according to other canons and for other uses. For “most of our places of worship were conceived and built centuries ago, sometimes for needs different from our own” (“Simple dialogue à propos de l’espace liturgique”, Communautés et Liturgies 6, Nov.-Dec. 1978, p. 545). Older buildings therefore proved more or less unsuited to the new norms of Christian celebration.
From this point of view, “a two-fold question arises: how to use the places of worship as they have been left to us, and how to design new ones more adapted to our urban way of life and to the situation of the Church today” (“Simple dialogue à propos de l’espace liturgique”, Communities and Liturgies 6, Nov.-Dec. 1978, p. 546).
The Church Building Furnishes A Certain Sense of God
From the outset, the question was: “How can we ensure that today’s liturgy unfolds as well as possible in a setting designed for the liturgy of other eras?” (“Le congrès d’art sacré d’Avignon”, Notes de pastorale liturgique 137, December 1978, p. 63). For, as Father [Yves] Congar noted of St. Peter’s in Rome (though his remark applies equally to other churches), “a whole ecclesiology is already inscribed in the layout of the place” (Yves Congar, Vatican II. Le concile au jour le jour, première session, Cerf-Plon, 1963, p. 23).
Father [Jean-Yves] Quellec explains very clearly what is at stake: “The external configuration of a building, the distribution and organization of its internal spaces, the style of the objects found within it, already form a more or less clear image of the God we encounter there. (...) The way we occupy the space of our churches, the way we arrange the furniture, the way we furnish the sanctuary, and the way we choose a cross, an icon or an altar, all have the implication that we are referring, whether consciously or unconsciously, to various imageries of the divine. It has frequently been pointed out that the image of Christ in the Eucharist is quite different depending on whether the altar resembles a simple table or a monumental tomb. (...) It should be noted that, in most cases, there was no opportunity to make choices revealing a spirituality: the church was received, almost as is, from those who designed and organized it. It should also be noted that, just as frequently, there is a sort of gap between the religious sensibilities and ideas of contemporaries and those that presided over the construction of a building” (Jean-Yves Quellec, ‘Le Dieu de nos églises’, Communautés et Liturgies 4, September 1981, p. 275 and 278).
For example, “the altarpieces of the 17th century, designed, as the Council of Trent requested, for adoration, represent a certain vision of faith. Today we have a different idea of the Real Presence” (Philippe Boitel, ‘Une église peut-elle être un musée?’, Informations catholiques internationales 402, February 15, 1972, p. 5). “Since the time of the Counter-Reformation, the tabernacle has often been linked to the main altar, with which it appeared as the vital centre of the building. But the current renewal of liturgical celebration, by restoring the proper value of each moment of the celebration, has put the spotlight back on the Lord’s other modes of presence” (“Vêtements, objets, espaces liturgiques”, Notes de pastorale liturgique 105, August 1973, p. 26).
Two Models of Church, Two Different Theologies
“The first vision of the Church, that of the pre-Vatican II period, corresponds, by way of example, to a church architecture in which the sanctuary is disproportionately enormous, well separated from the laity, dominating all of the faithful, an insignificant body (in the truest sense of the word) with an exaggerated head. The theology of Vatican II, on the other hand, corresponds to an architecture in which the sanctuary and nave are integrated seamlessly into a harmonious whole” (Lucien Deiss, Les ministères et les services dans la célébration liturgique, éditions du Levain, 1981, p. 8).
Sacred architecture “must present an image of the Church that is fully consistent with that which the liturgy, for its part, strives to convey” (Roger Béraudy, “Introduction” in Espace sacré et architecture moderne, Cerf, 1971, p. 7). For this reason, “not even the layout of places of worship has not been affected by [the liturgical] renewal” (Charles Wackeinheim, Entre la routine et la magie, la messe, Centurion, 1982, p. 23).
Liturgical Reform Implies Changes to the Church Building
The only conceivable solution was to redefine the arrangement of the objects, and to reorganize the architectural space. However, this conversion was difficult, given the building’s characteristic inertia. “Since Vatican II, preaching and Eucharistic celebrations, for example, do not require quite the same movements as before” (“Le congrès d’art sacré d’Avignon”, Notes de pastorale liturgique 137, December 1978, p. 64).
“Since the liturgical reform has led to changes in the arrangement of [liturgical] space, we must realize that these changes are not without challenges, especially when they occur in buildings designed according to a different logic. For example, today we occupy places in this space where it was never intended that words be spoken. As such we do violence to the place. The violated architecture no longer resonates with the assembly. It can only do so - it can only respond - if we keep ourselves in the right place” (Paul Roland, ‘Libre propos sur l’espace liturgique’, Communautés et Liturgies 4, September 1981, p. 296).
The Changes Bring Challenges
“The problem of converting traditional churches is not a simple one, nor is it easy to solve. The shape of our old churches does not immediately lend itself to the changes desired by the Council” (Jean Huvelle, ‘Réforme liturgique et aménagement des églises’, Revue diocésaine de Tournai, 1965, p. 236). For example, “once the new altar has been installed [facing the people], it will be necessary to consider removing, moving or otherwise disposing of the old altar. Such an operation cannot be carried out without the advice of a competent architect. Church architecture has often been designed with the altar at the back of the sanctuary in mind. Changing the altar not only modifies the furnishings, but also transforms the architectural lines” (Thierry Maertens and Robert Gantoy, La nouvelle célébration liturgique et ses implications, Publications de Saint-André-Biblica, 1965, p. 57).
“Churches don’t lend themselves easily to uses other than those for which they were originally designed: in most of them, the building was designed “length-wise” for assemblies. For some time now, the layout of churches has been changing; they are designed for “width-wise” assemblies, where people can see each other, hear each other and communicate. Sometimes we can arrange an old church in this way: it’s always difficult” (“Bâtir une célébration”, Célébrer 151, April 1981, p. 14).
“It is quite certain that our beautiful, elongated churches, filled with a forest of pillars, are more conducive to solitary prayer than to the gathering of people; the new churches, on the contrary, prevent us from isolating ourselves” (Henri Denis, L’esprit de la réforme liturgique, Société nouvelle des imprimeries de la Loire Républicaine, 1965, p. 27).

Wednesday, September 04, 2024

The Remarkable Procession of St Rose of Viterbo

On September 4th, the Italian city of Viterbo (roughly 50 miles to the north north-west of Rome) celebrates the feast of its patron Saint, a young woman named Rose who died in 1251 or ’52 at the age of only 17. The details of her life are poorly documented. In her time, Italy was wracked by political conflict between the Popes and the Holy Roman Emperors, and their factional supporters, known as the Guelfs (the papal side) and Ghibellines (the imperials.) This conflict is one of the most complicated aspects of all European history, and I could not even begin to explain it in a post such as this. Suffice it to say that Rose became famous when, at the age of only twelve, she began to rouse the people of her city to resist the Ghibelline occupation; so effectively, in fact, that she and her family were sent into exile.

St Rose of Viterbo Receiving Communion, ca. 1667, by the Spanish painter Juan Antonio de Frías y Escalante (1633-69). Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.
Rose predicted the imminent death of the Emperor Frederick II in December of 1250, and with his passing, the Guelfs regained control of the city, and she was able to return. She now sought to enter the local Franciscan convent, but was refused either because of her poor health, or for lack of a dowry, or perhaps both. This may seem rather inappropriate for the Poor Clares, but they were still a very new movement (St Clare herself was still alive), and Viterbo was not a large or particularly rich city, so the sisters likely could ill afford a mouth to feed with no provisions at all. Rose is said to have replied to the abbess, “You will not have me now, but perhaps you will be more willing when I am dead.”

With the aid of her parish priest, she and a few other young women formed a small community of their own, but the nuns prevailed upon the Pope to order its suppression, since they had been granted the privilege of having no other women’s religious house near their own within a certain distance. (Petty clashes of this sort were all too common a feature of medieval religious life, alas.) Rose therefore returned to her parents’ house, and died shortly thereafter. The very same Pope who had ordered the suppression of her little community, Innocent IV (1243-54), ordered that the cause for her canonization be opened; it was brought to completion in 1457. On September 4, 1258, her mortal remains were translated from their original place of burial to the very same convent to which she had been refused entry as a religious, just as she herself had foretold.

The shrine of St Rose in Viterbo, with the previous “macchina” (explained below), in front of it. After decades of more modern looking towers, the current designer, Raffaele Ascenzi, has made a happy return to the Gothic style that prevailed in the 19th century. The church’s very dull façade is the result of a particularly unfortunate neo-classical renovation done in 1850... our own is not the first generation of barbarians. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by LucaFernandi, CC BY-SA 4.0)
St Rose’s relics. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by Sailko, CC BY 3.0)
Although the day of her death was March 6, Viterbo keeps her feast on the anniversary of this translation. Since time out of mind, it has been the city’s custom to mark the day by building a tower with an image of the Saint at or near the top, and carrying it through the streets and piazzas, following the route of the original translation. Over the centuries, as new towers have been commissioned, they have grown to the extraordinary height of nearly 100 feet, and weight of over 5½ tons, requiring 100 men or more to carry them. As may be imagined, the procession of the “macchina”, as it is called in Italian, has seen some unfortunate incidents, and some rather comical failures. In 1790, the macchina collapsed, and in 1814, a different one fell backwards, and a few of the men carrying it were killed. In 1967, a newly designed one (pictured right), commissioned too late in the year for its materials to be properly tested (ah, Italy...), got rained on, making it too heavy for the porters to finish the route. It was repaired, however, and used for 12 years.
Since 1952, the macchine have been given names. A new one, scheduled to be used until 2028 inclusively, debuted yesterday, and is called “Dies natalis”, Latin for “birthday”. This is also the technical term used very often in the Martyrology, and many other Christian documents before it, for the day on which a Saint dies, and is therefore “born” into eternal life. It is difficult to think why this name was chosen, since Rose’s feast is not actually celebrated on her dies natalis. Here are two videos of it being carried for the very first time; in the first, it departs from the place where it was built, and in the second, it arrives at the piazza in front of the church were the relics are kept. Evviva Santa Rosa!

Choral High Mass of St Hildegard of Bingen in Philadelphia, Sept. 17

On Tuesday, September 17th, the Collegium Institute and the Durandus Institute for Sacred Liturgy & Music will hold a choral High Mass at the church of St Agatha and St James in Philadelphia for the feast of Saint Hildegard of Bingen, the renowned 12th century mystic, composer, and Doctor of the Church. An all-women’s schola will sing St. Hildegard’s own compositions throughout the liturgy, accompanied by instruments of her era. The Mass will begin at 7pm; a short talk on St. Hildegard’s music will be given before the start of Mass, and an outdoor reception will follow outside in the park. The church is located near the U. Penn. campus at 3728 Chestnut St. (Click here to RSVP for the reception, and click here to see the event page on Facebook.)

One of the four women recognized as Doctors of the Church, St Hildegard (1098-1179) was a German Benedictine nun and polymath, famous for her singular contributions to sacred music as well as artistic illumination, philosophy, prayer, and medical writing. She even constructed her own language (known as the “lingua ignota”) and is held to be “the founder of scientific natural history in Germany.”

This High Mass will be celebrated in a style familiar to Hildegard’s own medieval setting, featuring an all-women’s schola to sing her own compositions, including O Viridissima Virga, O Ignis Spiritus, and the Kyrie of the Messe de Sainte-Hildegarde, as they would have sounded from a convent of religious sisters. The singers will be accompanied by several medieval instruments known to St. Hildegard: the harp, the plucked psaltery, and the hurdy-gurdy. Just prior to the start of the Mass will be very brief remarks about the musical achievement and legacy of St. Hildegard by Christa Dalmazio (Manhattan School of Music), the choir director for this event.

Tuesday, September 03, 2024

The Canonization of Pope St Pius X

Pope St Pius X died on August 20th, 1914, and was canonized by Pope Pius XII just under 40 years later, on May 29, 1954; this was one of the most significant events of the first Marian Year, proclaimed by the Pope to commemorate the centenary of the definition of the Immaculate Conception. His feast day was originally assigned to September 3rd, the first free day on the calendar after that of his death, and is still kept there in the traditional Roman Rite; in the post-Conciliar Rite, he was removed to August 21st. Here is a beautiful video of the event from the archives of the Italian newsreel company Istituto Luce, with my translation of the narration. Below it, I have added a video of raw footage of the event (without soundtrack) from British Pathé.


He has become a Saint, a glorious citizen of heaven, this citizen to whom Riese raised this monument. Here was born nearly 120 years ago Giuseppe Sarto, from here he went out to go to school, 7 kilometers on foot. His room has remained that of a poor country curate; neither as cardinal nor as Pope did Giuseppe Sarto want to decorate it nicely. The kitchen is still that where his mother cooked polenta (a very typically northern Italian dish) for him, when there was any; here any visitor may enter, even the most humble, and sign the guestbook. ‘Xe un Cristian anca lu’, (Venetian dialect for ‘he’s also a Christian’) says the guard. From all over the world, the faithful have come for the canonization of Pius X. The Christian people were the first to want this; there followed the miracles. The process was conducted rapidly as few others have, and forty years after his death, Pius X is a Saint; Pius V waited 100 years longer. The flag has come from Riese, brought by the mayor and an official delegation; the nieces have also come, Maria De Bei and Giuseppina Parolin, and all the Bonin, names which speak Venetian, as the Saint liked. (Italian Prime Minister Mario) Scelba leads the special Italian delegation; there arrive also (President Luigi) Einaudi e Donna Ida (Pellegrini, his wife).

(1:20) It is 5:30 p.m., in the evening, the time at which the procession exits the bronze doors. In the line led by the Swiss Guards and the ‘sediari’ (the gentlemen who carried the sedes gestatoria), 460 bishops and archbishops, and 42 cardinals. On the sedia gestatoria, the Pope moves forward. He wears the falda, amice, alb, stole, the great cope embroidered with gold, (closed) with the morse, the triple tiara. On the platform in front of the basilica, he gets off the sedia gestatoria and ascends to the throne to sit, with Cardinals Canali and Bruno at his sides, and the prince-assistant at the throne, Don Giuseppe Aspreno-Colonna. As the Tu es Petrus is sung, the cardinals come up to the throne one by one to offer their obedience. The rite begins. In the name of the Cardinal Procurator, the Consistorial Advocate reads the “postulatio” (the formal request for the canonization), to which the Secretary for Briefs answers that the Pontifical crown which adorned the head of Pius X will from today shine with splendor of sanctity. A miracle of the Saint – the mirrors are transformed into instruments of devotion. The Pope decrees and defines as Saint and Confessor Blessed Pope Pius X, the Saint given by Providence to our times.

(2:36) In a crystal casket, the venerated body, accompanied by an immense line of ecclesiastics, makes its way through those streets of Rome where Pius X passed no longer after his assumption to the throne; around him, the youth whom he wished to be admitted at the age of seven to the table of the Lord. The casket passes through fervent emotion of the faithful, such as Pius X felt around himself, but perhaps never saw so numerous during his difficult Pontificate. His blue eyes shine in his intact body, as it was found when they exhumed him at the beginning of the canonization process. Yesterday, the Pope remembered the glorious milestones of the reign of Pius X, in every way leading back to unity in Christ: the renewal of ecclesiastical law, his combat against the modernist heresy, but these people remember above all the shepherd, who while he was alive showed in his sweet and charitable good-will the light of holiness. Santa Maria Maggiore shines with the lights of the Marian year, but from the mystical rose of the Saints, Pius X contemplates the glory of Mary.

From British Pathé:

A Meditation on Fra Angelico’s Mocking of Christ by Br John Paul Puschautz O.P.

This is the second of two posts featuring meditations on frescoes painted by Fra Angelico on the walls of the cells at San Marco monastery in Florence, by Br John Paul Puschautz, a Dominican of the Western Province in the United States. Last time, we featured his meditation on the Annunciation; this week it is the Mocking of Christ.

John Paul has just completed his STL, and his thesis title was “Visio Divina with the Art of Fra Angelico as Mental Pilgrimage: A Way of Beauty and Perfection.” It is a scholarly development of a method of prayer analogous to lectio divina that uses sacred art for meditation rather than scriptural passages.

As I mentioned last time, contact Br John Paul through opwest.org if you want to publish his thesis. If it was published as a book. I would buy it and promote it.


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