The Golden Codex of Echternach - A Gospel Book of the 11th Century (Part 3)

In this third and final article about the Golden Codex of Echternach (Codex Aureus Epternacensis), an illuminated gospel book made at the abbey of Echternach circa 1030-50, we cover the images related to the Gospels of Luke and John; the first part covered the prefatory materials, and the second the Gospels of Matthew and Mark. The pictures of stories from the Gospels, its most interesting feature, are not spread through the book, placed with the corresponding text, but grouped together in four sets of four pages each, one set before each Gospel, and arranged in bands. These images run in the chronological order of Our Lord’s life (roughly), and are taken from all four Gospels simultaneously. The manuscript is now kept at the Germanisches Nationalmuseum in Nuremberg, and may be viewed at the following link in full: https://dlib.gnm.de/item/Hs156142.

The beginning of an introduction to the Gospel of Luke...

and the first word of it, the Evangelist’s name in Latin, Lucas.

The beginning of the list of its chapters, according to the system of the Eusebian canons (described in the first part of this series.)

Each Gospel has a pair of pages before it which reproduces the appearance of a very rich textile. The lion motif would perhaps be more appropriate for the Gospel of Mark rather than Luke.

The four pages of Gospel stories before the text of Luke are each dedicated to an extended treatment of a single parable; here we have the workmen in the vineyard, Matthew 20, 1-16, the Gospel of Septuagesima Sunday.

The parable of the man who sends his servants, and last of all his son, to collect the rent of his tenant farmers, Matthew 21, 33-46, the Gospel of Friday in the second week of Lent.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

A New Edition of the Monastic Breviary from the Monastère Saint-Benoît

We are very glad to share to the news that the printing house of the Monastère Saint-Benoît in Brignole, France, Éditions Pax inter Spinas, has now made available a republication of the two volumes of the last edition (1963) of the traditional Latin Monastic Breviary, as was announced back in March. Dom Alcuin Reid, OSB, prior of the monastery, recently gave an interview to the Liturgical Arts Journal about the Divine Office and its place in our liturgical tradition, which is, of course, well worth your time to read. He also explains some of the editorial decision which were made, regarding the inclusion of some useful material from earlier editions of the Monastic Breviary. 

The Breviary contains all that is necessary to pray the complete Monastic Divine Office of Matins, Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers and Compline for each day of the liturgical year. In addition to the complete contents of the 1963 edition, an appendix provides texts found in previous editions of the Breviary for those who wish to use them. Printed on bible paper in black and red throughout with gilt edges, 6 silk marker ribbons and a black flexible cover, these volumes are both worthy and durable.

In addition to the whole of the Monastic Office, both volumes of the Breviarium Monasticum include the Little Office of Our Lady, the manner of praying the Gradual psalms in choir, as well as the seven penitential psalms and the litany of the saints. There is also an appendix with excepts from the Roman Missal (the prayers for the preparation for Mass and thanksgiving afterwards), prayers to St Benedict, prayers for the pope, prayers for the renewal of religious profession, a filial commendation to St Benedict, excerpts from the Roman Ritual (the litanies of the Holy Name, of the Sacred Heart, of the Precious Blood, of Our Lady, of St Joseph, rites for visiting and blessing the Sick, rites and prayers for the dying, rites for the blessing of Holy Water, images, children, medals of St Benedict, rosaries, houses, etc.), monastic rites including the blessings of lectors and refectory servers, grace before and after meals, the Itinerarium, the General Absolution from faults against the Rule given at certain times of the year, as well as the brief formulae used in the administration of the Sacraments in emergencies.

The Breviaries are not available as separate volumes. Discounts are available for orders from monasteries or other religious communities for orders of 5+ copies, and trade discounts are available for bookshops. Please contact us.

BREVIARIUM MONASTICUM vol. I 10.5 x 16.5cm, sewn flexible cover, 1680pp ISBN 9782956905523

BREVIARIUM MONASTICUM vol. II 10.5 x 16.5cm, sewn flexible cover, 1400pp ISBN 9782956905530

To order: www.monasterebrignoles.org/editionspaxinterspinas.html

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Liturgical Notes on the Ember Days of September

The origin of the English term “Ember Days” seems to be disputed. Some scholars claim it is merely a corruption of the Latin name “Quattuor Temporum – of the four times (or ‘seasons’)”, through the German “Quatember”, while others derive it from the Anglo-Saxon words “ymb-ryne”, meaning “regularly occurring.” English-speakers used also to refer to them as “Quarter tense”, another corruption of the Latin name. In German liturgical books of the Middle Ages, they are often called with an entirely different word, “angaria”; for example, the index of the 1498 Missal of Salzburg calls the Ember Days of Advent the “angaria hiemalis”, (i.e. of winter), those of Lent the “angaria vernalis” etc.

This word derives from the verb “angariare – to press someone into service”, which occurs three times in the Latin New Testament. The first occurrence is in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5, 41), “And whosoever will force thee one mile, go with him other two.” The other two are when Simon of Cyrene is forced to help the Lord carry His Cross, Matthew 27, 32 and its parallel in Mark 15, 21. The noun “angaria” therefore means “a pressing into service” or “exaction”; according to DuCange’s Medieval Latin Glossary, it was used in Germany to refer to a quarterly tax that was collected at the Ember Days. Missals and breviaries printed for use in Germany do however also regularly use the Latin “Quattuor Tempora”.

The index of the Missal of Salzburg, printed at Nuremburg in 1498. At the bottom of the left column are read “angaria hiemalis” etc. From the website of the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek in Munich.

One of the most beautiful features of the Masses of Ember Saturday is the canticle Benedictus es which follows the fifth prophecy from the Book of Daniel in Advent, Lent and September. (During the octave of Pentecost, the reading is the same, but the canticle is substituted by an Alleluia with one versicle.) Medieval liturgical commentators offer a clever explanation as to why the prayers which precede the first four prophecies are introduced by “Oremus. Flectamus genua. Levate.”, but the fifth one is introduced by “Dominus vobiscum.” In his Summa de Ecclesiasticis Officiis, Johannes Beleth writes in the mid-12th century that “Among these (prophecies) there is one which as it is being sung, no one ought to sit. This is the song of the three children, who contend for the faith of the Trinity, and so were cast into the furnace. Therefore at this song it is not good to genuflect, because the children would not genuflect before the statue of Nebuchadnezzar, although many princes did.”

As I have noted previously, the Missal of Sarum has a different arrangement for this reading and its canticle on each of the four Ember Days. On Pentecost, the reading found in the Roman Missal, Daniel 3, 47-51, is lengthened by the addition of the Biblical canticle, chapter 3, 52-88; the addition is sung by the reader as part of the lesson, and not with the proper melody of the Benedictus es. As is often the case with the lessons in medieval missals, the text does not correspond exactly to the wording of the Vulgate; there are a number of variants which derive from the Old Latin version of the Bible. Furthermore, several of the repetitions of “praise and exalt him above all forever” are omitted. The reading is then followed by the Alleluia and its verse as in the Roman Missal.

In September, Sarum has the same reading as at Pentecost. It is followed, however by a canticle composed by the German monk, poet and scholar Walafrid Strabo, a student of Rabanus Maurus at the famous abbey of Fulda in the first half of the 9th century. This canticle is a poetic paraphrase of the Benedicite, each verse of which is followed by a refrain, “Let them ever adore the Almighty, and bless him through every age.” At Sarum, the refrain was sung with the verbs in the indicative, “They ever adore the Almighty, and bless him in every age.”; it is split into two parts, which are sung after alternate verses. There are a few other minor variants from Walafrid’s original version.

Omnipotentem semper adorant, Et benedicunt omne per aevum.	They ever adore the Almighty and bless Him through every age.
Astra polorum, cuncta hominum gens Solque sororque, lumina caeli Omnipotentem semper adorant.	The stars of heaven, every sort of men, and the sun and his sister, the lights of heaven. They ever adore the Almighty.
Sic quoque lymphae quaeque supernae Ros pluviaeque, spiritus omnis. Et benedicunt omne per aevum.	So also all the waters in heaven above, the dew and the rains, and every wind. And bless Him through every age.
Ignis et aestus, cauma geluque Frigus et ardor atque pruina. Omnipotentem etc.	Fire and heat, warmth and cold, chill and burning and the frost. They adore etc.
Nix glaciesque, noxque diesque Lux tenebraeque, fulgura, nubes.	Snow and ice, night and day, light and darkness, lightnings and clouds.
Arida montes, germina, colles, Flumina, fontes, pontus et undae.	Deserts, mountains, plants, hills, rivers, springs, the seas and the waves.
Omnia viva, quae vehit aequor, vegetat aer, terraque nutrit	All things that live and are born on the waters, that the air quickens, and the earth nourishes.
Cuncta hominum gens, Israel ipse Christicolaeque, servuli quique.	Every sort of men, Israel itself, and the worshipers of Christ, and all His servants.
Sancti humilesque, corde benigno Tresque pusilli exsuperantes.	The holy, the humble, the gentle of heart, and the three little ones in their triumph.
Rite camini ignei flammas jussa tyranni temnere prompti.	Justly ready to disdain the flames of the fiery furnace, and the tyrant’s orders.
Sit Genitori laus, Genitoque lausque beato Flamini sacro.	Praise to the Father, and to the Son, and praise to the blessed Holy Spirit.

The Three Children in the Furnace, as depicted in the Catacomb of Priscilla in Rome ca. 275 A.D.

The Ember Days are often said to be connected with the agricultural seasons, especially in reference to the harvest seasons of the Italian peninsula, since they originated in Rome. In point of fact, there are only a few references to harvests and harvest-offerings at Pentecost, only one in Lent (the first prophecy) and none at all in Advent. In September, on the other hand, the references to the harvest are very clear, especially in the Epistles of the Masses. On Wednesday, Amos 9, 13-15, on Friday, the end of the book of Hosea (14, 2-10) and the second reading from Leviticus on Saturday (23, 39-43) all speak of harvests and the fruits of the earth. The last of these prescribes that they be kept “starting on the fifteenth of the seventh month”; according to the Roman tradition, September was originally the seventh month of the calendar, and indeed, September 15th is the earliest day on which the first Ember Day can occur.

To the medieval liturgist William Durandus, however, as probably to most of his contemporaries in the clergy, the most prominent feature of the Ember Days was not thanksgiving for the bounty of God in the harvest, but rather the traditional celebration of these days as the proper time for ordinations. He therefore offers the following allegorical reflections on the three Masses, explaining them in reference to season of the ordinands.  (Rationale Divinorum Officiorum, Liber VI, capp. 132-134)

On Wednesday is read the Gospel (Mark 9, 16-28) … about the deaf and mute (boy) whom the Apostles could not heal, since “that kind of demons is not cast out except in fasting and prayer”; which is fitting to this day. For today is the fast of the four times, and therefore two readings are read, so that the ordinands may be taught in the two precepts of charity, or in the two laws.

The Mass of Friday expresses the penitence of the ordinands, whence in the Gospel… they are instructed unto conversion, and in the introit they are invited to seek the Lord. (“Let the heart of them that seek the Lord rejoice. Seek ye the Lord, and be strengthened, seek ye ever His face.”)

The Mass of Saturday is all said for the teaching of the ordinands, lest they be sterile, like the fruitless fig tree, of which the Gospel is read (Luke 13, 6-17), and lest their lives be caught up in earthly matters, like the bent over woman. In the Epistle (Hebrews 9, 2-12), which treats of the first and second tabernacles, they are admonished to serve in the tabernacle of the Church Militant in such wise that they may be presented to the Lord in the tabernacle of the Church Triumphant. … Rightly in this month are the ordinations of clerics done, since in this month took place (in the Old Testament) the celebration of (the feast of) Tabernacles. Now the ordained are the ministers of the Church, established in the seven orders on the day of tabernacles through seven-fold grace.

Implementing the Traditional (Pre-55) Roman Holy Week, Part 3 — Tenebrae, Divine Office, Times

( Part 1 | Part 2 )

If one is so blessed as to have Sunday Vespers, then those should be sung in the usual way on Palm Sunday. It is a long day, but it is not worth subordinating the liturgy to our frailty in this case. There are no changes to be made to this office that pertain just to Palm Sunday, other than one might celebrate without ceremonies (due to a lack of personnel sometimes out of our control), although Benediction may follow in the usual way regardless. It helps to have sung the Vexilla Regis twice already before Good Friday, even with the organ taken away for the Triduum.

The lecterns do not have falls in violet or black at Tenebrae. The funerary candles of Good Friday may come out already on Wednesday, even if they are replaced again on Thursday morning with brass candlesticks and bleached candles.

I find it best to omit choir ceremonies (including a bow to the celebrant) on Wednesday, lest they be repeated on Thursday night out of habit. Further, one genuflects to the cross and even to the empty altar, when entering and exiting and during the office, but not otherwise before or after on Thursday (canons bow in that case, but we have hardly any who might qualify…).

I would not expect much if any congregational singing at Tenebrae, particularly if one does not chant psalmody regularly, but a parish which does faithfully follow the conciliar directive to sing Vespers on Sundays and the chief feasts may find itself in for a surprise (a treat, even). It goes without saying that one should probably not attempt the responsories without practice, especially since we find rare instances of tritones (going from F to B, that is, in more Gregorian terms, Fa to Si/Ti) avoided in most of the repertoire for its harsh sound, that is also hard to anticipate when coming back to the incipit from the verse sung by a soloist or by cantors. But this is fine. The faithful need not sing everything, and Holy Week may well be overwhelming as it is. Let Christ enter their hearts via the chant sung on their behalf in a more profound way than usual, but please, give them booklets or books throughout Holy Week.

But for Vespers sung recto tono (I include the Stripping of the Altars here, since it follows Vespers immediately on Thursday), it may be a different story. Some people have a booklet with some instructions on how to sing the last syllable of an antiphon, at the mediant, and at the end of a verse, i.e. to lengthen it slightly, pausing at the mediant and singing the subsequent verse immediately. You could put these syllables in boldface type too. There is always some disagreement about colons in the antiphons, which is manageable in the end, but I personally ignore the flex when singing recto tono. There is an excellent example from Fontgombault, albeit from the funeral rites instead.

Vespers is also a better way to move from one thing to the next than “silence as the mere absence of sound” as the faithful, whether workers or families with tired small children, exit after the main service ends. With Tenebrae, this is not a problem. The faithful leave quietly in the dark, the strepitus having shocked them, the content and the length of the office having overwhelmed them.

As to the ceremonies of Vespers of the Triduum, since there is no incense, I prefer to stand after the last antiphon of the psalmody and before the antiphon of the Magnificat, then kneel after the repetition of the Magnificat antiphon, whereas one sits when incense is used or at least when the office is sung in chant (and Compline never has incense!); if one takes advantage of the permission to sing the antiphons in the full Gregorian chant, do that. I should note that for dicitur, one must understand it as cantatur, either recto tono where no chant is given (the collect, the repeated Miserere, or, at the other hours, the Christus factus est) or where it is clearly only ad libitum, such as at Vespers. It is not legitur or recitatur, as in a speaking voice.

I leave the timing to another part of this essay, but I should mention the ceremonies of Tenebrae which must be done in darkness: if the sacristy is inaccessible from the sanctuary, or if the altar structure does not allow for the acolyte to hide with the candle behind it, then he should simply turn around facing the apse wall or walk to the back— with a lighter in hand in case of an accident.

On Thursday, if the parochial church is too small to place the altar of repose at a temporary altar towards the vestibule or at least on the side of the nave away from the main altar, then the candles must be extinguished during the Benedictus, lest the ceremony’s effect be diminished, even if adoration will continue until midnight; the candles must be lit again in this case.

The candle from the hearse should be extinguished in a timely manner after the psalm, preferably at the end of the antiphon. The cantor should look up to see that the candle is extinguished, which also keeps him grounded in prayer and not lost in his head.

Customarily, the dominant is the same pitch for each psalm tone, in each mode.

Keeping Do as the same pitch, or changing the pitch of the dominant, is too confusing and leads to problems with the range of the chant. In the traditionalist sphere, and in places that retained the chanted Latin office in its postconciliar arrangement, A flat to B flat is the usual choice of notes for the psalmody (in other words, the dominant is chosen from A flat, A natural, or B flat); for anything penitential sung  recto tono, a whole step down (the repeated Miserere when not sung polyphonically, the final collect…) is usually sufficient. The responsories should be sung conveniently for the voices in question, just as with the Mass propers.

A pitch pipe is the best way to sound the pitches, as most of us do not have perfect pitch and require some sort of audio cue. Smartphone piano apps are OK in the choir loft, if one must give intervals, but they are not conducive to singing the office in cassock and surplice in the front of the church.

In the longer psalms such as Friday’s Lauds canticle, one should not be afraid to restore the pitch. At Vespers, give the pitch before each antiphon to keep it centered even if the pitch dropped in the preceding psalm.

The Timing and Other Considerations

What time should you celebrate, and how should you accommodate the lengthy (lengthier) rites? This is perhaps the most contentious question. First, obviously the rite of Palm Sunday occurs at the usual hour in the morning (preferably…). With the long reading or hopefully chant of the Passion according to Matthew, in addition to the palm blessing and procession, I would expect up to an additional two hours to be added to the Mass, depending on the number of people receiving palms and the length of the procession, even if the tract is shortened by singing it with a psalm tone. The Passion lasts around forty-five minutes when sung in full. So if at all possible, I would anticipate the start and reduce the number of Masses, or at least bless palms at only the sung (solemn) Mass. This also insists on the importance of the sung (solemn) Mass as the main Mass, what the French call, even in the most reduced, banal celebrations of the Novus Ordo, the grand’messe.

It is superfluous to preach following the Gospel on this day. The same is true of Holy Saturday, even without baptisms. But on Thursday and Friday, the liturgy is not so long as to make a short sermon overly burdensome on the faithful. Nevertheless, one could revive the custom of an evening sermon on these days as was often the case at Westminster Cathedral and in other major churches before the reforms of the last century.

We must briefly go over again the historical development of the timing of the celebrations that occur during the Triduum in order to address the pastoral questions raised by celebrating the classical Holy Week.

The major rites of each day are to occur after the hour of None, which is ordinarily celebrated in the mid-to-late afternoon. Holy Thursday was already anticipated to the morning in Rome itself no later than the middle of the eighth century, and the celebration of Holy Saturday was anticipated such that it was moved fully to the morning in the missal of Saint Pius V. Indeed, such anticipation remains normative in the Byzantine rite, barring a reduction to the most essential aspects, all celebrated in the evening in Western countries to accommodate workers (mirroring in part the modern practice of the Roman rite), and in the Roman rite, the link between the hour of None is not the time of day, as those few references are suppressed for the Triduum at the minor hours, but the custom of celebrating penitential Masses after this hour.

But in no case were the major liturgies, particularly on Thursday and Saturday, evening or nighttime rites, while the approximate timing of the major liturgy of Good Friday is the same in the classical Holy Week and in that of Pius XII, this rite stands out as being inconsistent with the historical literalism applied to Thursday and Saturday.

It is true that the PCED asked those who had the formal indult to observe the modern evening or at least afternoon times. The problem with this request is that Good Friday is rarely a public holiday in our time, much less so Holy Thursday, and then the longest rite of the liturgical year is celebrated late in the day. It is not seemly to sing Vespers exhausted in the dark. Much has been said about the apparent incongruity of the paschal vigil celebrated in the morning, but the 1955 reform transfers the problem to the other end of the day, such that Vespers is omitted – and since Vespers is not a nighttime office, it does some violence when moving the vigil so late in the day that one finishes towards nine or ten at night. (Adopting the 1955 Lauds with the rest of the pre-1955 vigil does yet more violence to; do not do that.) It also leaves the day completely empty of any liturgical celebration, and even private recitation of the shortened Matins (which must follow Compline) becomes a challenge for the clergy, in particular those who must celebrate Mass on the most important Sunday of the year. A late afternoon or evening celebration of the vigil realistically excludes the celebration of Matins (together with Lauds) even for choirs otherwise capable of the additional singing.

These three most holy days have not been holy days of obligation for centuries. They perhaps ought to be, and it made sense that they were before early modernity. But they are not obligatory in our own time. Pastors should therefore exhort the faithful to take time from work anyway, regardless of the missal ultimately placed on the altar. The benefit for those using the traditional Roman rite of Holy Week is that the ceremonies can be advanced including to the morning so that they may be done as solemnly as possible, in the most dignified way. It is not dignified to lose one’s voice having gone from one liturgy to Tenebrae without sufficient rest, and given the character of this office, which requires the passage to darkness amplified by the extinguishing of candles, transferring it to the morning as is the case of the 1955 reforms (with one exception, that of the cathedral in which the chrism Mass is celebrated), destroys the ceremony just as much as using another form of the breviary would.

Those who cannot take a day off from work should come to Tenebrae and, on Thursday, the Mandatum, if it is celebrated in the late afternoon around five or just after, in order to finish before Tenebrae.

Starting the major Mass (“Mass”) around nine or ten o’clock each day brings you to Vespers sometime by noon or just after. Clergy bound to the office have sufficient time to say Prime to None before and then Compline after, before returning for Tenebrae. For some of us, starting around six in the evening ensures that most of the ceremony is in darkness, or at least as darkness noticeably falls in the church, even if Easter falls relatively early and during Daylight Saving Time. (It does not always fall in DST in countries where this still begins in April or never does where DST is not observed at all.) But by Saturday, I can dispense with a light well into the second nocturn, even with the artificial, electric lights off since the fading natural light from outside suffices with the shorter liturgy of Holy Saturday’s office.

And you will need a light, preferably a book light to clip to your book (or binder or folder containing a printed booklet) that has settings to increase warmth. You want the warmest settings, not white light. These can be found easily and cheaply on the internet. The light is needed by all singing until the last verse of the Miserere sung by your side (either gospel or epistle side, or extinguishing it at the last odd or even verse depending on how you alternate the psalmody), by the officiant who sings the final collect recto tono, on his knees, per the rubrics. (Of course, he may have it memorized and the others the Miserere; more power to these men if that is the case!)

Prepare copies of the readings, the whole office of Tenebrae, etc. in advance. Ideally everyone sings from the same source, or everything is then copied from one source. Having different sources for Tenebrae in particular can cause issues in the psalmody (the flex is not always in the same place). You can print books with a spiral bound (letter, A4, etc.) at a decent price so that it looks a little less thrown together; otherwise, a black binder at Tenebrae will be fine (it may be a bit more noticeable during the daylight at the other services, but we must do our best with what we have). It goes without saying that one should practice the Lamentations, the Passion, and the first and/or twelfth prophecy (for which special tones exist) in particular. Keep things from year to year, if you have space. It makes your life much, much easier.

I have this to say as a sort of conclusion:

This series is long. One might consider that it’s missing the forest for the trees, and I do not take for granted that you can just do this with anyone; there is also a pastoral sensitivity: the decision to celebrate the classical Holy Week comes from the priest in charge (the pastor, chaplain, and so on), and it should not be up for argument, but he must do his best (his maximum effort, even) to prepare the faithful. Nevertheless, I suggest that this series is for those who intend to celebrate the classical Holy Week in due course and that there is something to take away from it, whatever stage of the process you are at.

The Choir School: Formative Agent of Future Church Music

The revival of sacred music, especially in America, that followed Pope St. Pius X’s motu proprio Tra le Sollecitudini (1903) was aided immensely by the pioneering work of Catholic convert Mrs. Justine Ward. She set about to fulfill Pius X’s dictate that “Special efforts are to be made to restore the use of the Gregorian Chant by the people, so that the faithful may again take a more active part in the ecclesiastical offices, as was the case in ancient times,” (§3) by focusing on enabling children to sing Gregorian chant. Thousands of teachers, trained by Mrs. Ward and others, especially through the Pius X School of Liturgical Music at Manhattanville College, trained countless Catholic school students in the Church’s sacred music.

This decades-long groundswell of chant-based general music education in Catholic schools sprouted not only widespread knowledge of Gregorian chant, but also a few special institutions in which the Church’s music was the centerpiece of education. One thinks, certainly, about the founding of the St. Paul’s Choir School in Harvard Square by Theodore Marier in 1963. In more recent times, there is the monumental achievement brought about at the Cathedral of the Madeleine in Salt Lake City by Gregory Glenn, the founding director of the church’s choir school. 

The 4th Season of the Catholic Institute of Sacred Music’s Public Lecture and Concerts Series kicks off with a visionary lecture by Mr Glenn, who will share with us his vision for a choir school in the modern context, and answer questions about how he built the program into a pinnacle of Catholic music practice, in the style of the great cathedral schools of Europe.

We invite you to join us for this lecture!

The Choir School: Formative Agent of Future Church Music
Lecture by Gregory Glenn

Date: Thursday, October 2nd
Time: 6:30 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. Pacific, followed by a reception
Location: St. Patrick’s Seminary (Menlo Park, California) and Online via Livestream
Tickets: Free, or suggested donation of $20

RSVP here.

About the Lecture

In this presentation, we will briefly explore the past contributions of choir schools to the Church’s sacred liturgy over the centuries, consider the role that choir schools play today in the worship and pastoral life of the Cathedrals or other communities they serve, and the crucial agency they enact in the formation of future conductors, composers, organists, choristers, and more. More broadly, these schools, once dubbed “the envy of the angels,” serve the community in many ways beyond the realm of sacred music as institutions that shape the lives of young people for leadership and engagement in the mission of the Catholic Church. The essential elements observed in existing schools, as well as the challenges that contribute to the fragility of such institutions, will also be considered.

In-person and live via streaming. A reception follows the in-person event.

About the Lecturer

Gregory A. Glenn is the Founder and Pastoral Administrator of The Madeleine Choir School, and the Director of Liturgy and Music at the Cathedral of the Madeleine in Salt Lake City, Utah. Glenn completed graduate work in liturgical studies at The Catholic University of America in Washington, D. C., and undergraduate studies in organ performance at Seattle Pacific University. While at Catholic University, he served on the music staff at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. The Madeleine Choir School, a Pre-Kindergarten through Eighth Grade Catholic School serving over 400 students at the Cathedral, began as an after-school program for children in 1990, and opened as a full-time academic institution in 1996. At the Cathedral of the Madeleine Glenn oversees a liturgy and music program with over 150 regular volunteers and staff that serve daily and Sunday choral services, an annual Concert Series, and the Eccles Organ Festival. The choristers from the Madeleine Choir School have sung with professional arts organizations such as Utah Opera, the Utah Symphony, the San Francisco Opera and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and have also conducted biennial European performance tours throughout Italy, France, Belgium, Germany, Spain and Austria. The Choristers were featured in the music for the Opening Ceremonies of 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City. Glenn has served on the Steering Committee for the Conference of Roman Catholic Cathedral Musicians, and worked with Monsignor M. Francis Mannion in facilitating the creation of The Snowbird Statement on Catholic Liturgical Music. In 2008 Glenn received the Madeleine Award for Distinguished Service to the Arts and Humanities in Utah, and, in 2013, the Yves Congar Award for twenty-five years of service presented by the Congar Institute for Ministry Development. His article regarding the founding of the Choir School was included in Liturgy in the Twenty-First Century: Contemporary Issues and Perspectives, a publication of Bloomsbury T & T Clark. A native of Olympia, Washington, Glenn has served the Diocese of Salt Lake City since 1988.

About the Series

The Public Lecture & Concert Series of the Catholic Institute of Sacred Music welcomes the general public to St. Patrick’s Seminary to hear from preeminent scholars about topics which have a profound impact on the Church and humanity, inviting them especially to consider the Church’s wisdom on matters related to the worship of God, the spiritual life, beauty, and works of art.

We invite you to join us for these important and inspiring events.

About the Catholic Institute of Sacred Music

Founded in 2022, the mission of the Catholic Institute of Sacred Music is to draw souls to Jesus Christ through the beauty of sacred music and the liturgy.

The Institute offers a substantial program of accredited, graduate-level coursework and, beginning in the summer session of 2026 pending WSCUC approval, a Masters of Sacred Music and Post-baccalaureate certificates in Gregorian Chant and Sacred Choral Music. All of the Institute’s coursework and public outreach are designed to help church musicians and clergy better to know and love the Church’s treasury of sacred music and her teachings on sacred music. Our goal is to equip students with the theological, philosophical, and historical knowledge, as well as the practical skills (singing, playing, conducting, composing, organizing, fundraising) necessary to build excellent sacred music programs in parishes and schools. We aim to help others revitalize the faith of Catholics and instill vitality in parish and school life through a vibrant sacred music program.

We are committed to a faithful and generous service of the Church. We cultivate fidelity, resiliency, a healthy sense of creativity, and selflessness within our student body and faculty as characteristics of our service as we labor together in the vineyard of the Lord to bring in a rich harvest.

Ss Cornelius and Cyprian

Today is the feast of one of the most important of the Latin Fathers of the Church, St Cyprian of Carthage, who was martyred on September 14, 258. With the introduction of the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, his feast was moved forward to the 16th. In the Roman Rite, he has long been celebrated in a single feast with his contemporary Pope St Cornelius, with whom he corresponded, and with whom he was joined in opposition to an heretic sect called the Novatianists, who denied that serious sins committed after baptism could be forgiven. The latter was martyred in June of 253, in the third year of his papacy.

Between 1565 and 1571, the painter Paolo Caliari, usually known as Paolo Veronese (Paul from Verona), painted an altarpiece for the high altar of the abbey of St Anthony the Abbot on the island of Torcello in the Venetian lagoon. This abbey was suppressed and destroyed during the Napoleonic invasion of Italy, and the painting is now in the Brera Gallery in Milan.

At top we see St Anthony, the patron of the church, represented as a mitred abbot, holding a crook decorated with a pannisellus, a piece of cloth that originally served to protect the metal of the shaft. (See this article from 2008: https://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/2008/11/treasure-of-halberstadt-iv.html.) Veronese paints his rough and dull habit, typical of an Eastern hermit, in intense contrast to his bright green and gold cope, a reminder to us from a wiser age that the poverty of religious is not practiced by impoverishing the house or the worship of God.

Standing beneath him are Ss Cornelius on the left, and Cyprian on the right: relics of them both were kept in the altar over which this painting was displayed.

Artists of the Venetian school like Veronese excelled at painting rich cloth like the colored and brocaded copes of the three Saints, but tended to be weak on their drawing, and as a result, their lines are often rather hazy. (Michelangelo, very much a product of the Florentine school which excelled at drawing, is reported to have said of the Venetian artist Titian that he would be a superb painter if he would just learn how to draw.) This is evident when one looks at the painting in a closer view; it almost gives the impression that one could feel the texture of the brocade if one were to touch it, but the drawing of the designs on the copes is very vague.

Also note that Cornelius is wearing white, although he is a martyr no less than Cyprian, who is wearing red; this was certainly done for the sake of contrast and nothing else, just as St Anthony’s liturgical color would be white rather than green. The artist is clearly not aiming at any particular kind of accuracy, since the server who holds a liturgical book would never be dressed like the page seen here is.

Stabat Mater, the Hymn of the Virgin of Sorrows

Devotion to the Sorrows of the Virgin Mary originated in German-speaking lands in the early 15th-century, partly as a response to the iconoclasm of the Hussites, and partly out of the universal popular devotion to every aspect of Christ’s Passion, including the presence of His Mother, and thence to Her grief over the Passion. The feast that emerged as its formal liturgical expression of this devotion was known by several different titles, and kept on a wide variety of dates, but usually in Passiontide, or just after Easter. Before the name “Seven Sorrows” became common, it was most often called “the feast of the Virgin’s Compassion”, which is to say, of Her suffering together with Christ as She beheld the Passion. This title was retained well into the 20th century by the Dominicans, who also had an Office for it which was quite different from the Roman one, although the Mass was the same. It also appears in many missals of the 15th to 17th centuries only as a votive Mass, with no corresponding feast; this was the case at Sarum, where it is called “Compassionis sive Lamentationis B.M.V.” Its popularity continued to grow in the Tridentine period, until Pope Benedict XIII finally extended it to the whole of the Roman Rite in 1727.

The Virgin of Sorrows; the central panel of the Van Belle triptych by Pieter Poubus (1523 ca. - 1580); in the church of St James in Bruges, Belgium. There were different traditions as to which events in Our Lady’s life counted as Her Seven Sorrows; here they are (clockwise from lower left) the Circumcision, the Flight into Egypt, losing the Child Jesus, meeting Christ on the road to Calvary, the Crucifixion, the deposition from the Cross, and the entombment. The Roman version of the Passiontide feast contains no specific list. (Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.)

A second feast of the Seven Sorrows was promulgated in 1668 as the Patronal feast of the Servite Order, which was founded in the mid-13th century by seven Florentine noblemen, and soon spread all over Europe. (St Philip Benizi, who stands in their history as St Bernard does in that of the Cistercians, not their founder, but their most famous member, was almost elected Pope in 1271.) This order had always nourished a strong devotion to the Mother of Sorrows, and has its own rosary of the Seven Sorrows, and its own Marian stations of the Cross. Pope Pius VII added their version of the feast to the general calendar in 1814, after he returned from the exile in France shamefully visited upon him by Napoleon. Part of his reason for doing would certainly have been to ask the Virgin’s intercession and protection for the Church in the midst of the many horrors visited upon it by the French revolution and the subsequent wars. It was originally kept on the Third Sunday of September, as it had been first by the Servites, but when Pope St Pius X abolished the custom of fixing feasts to Sundays, it was placed on September 15th, the day after the Exaltation of the Cross.

As is often the case with later feasts, there was a considerable variety in the liturgical texts of the earlier version of the feast from one place to another, and between the traditions of the various religious orders. But of course, one of the most widespread was the hymn Stabat Mater Dolorosa, which is universally regarded as one of the great masterpieces of later medieval devotional poetry. The author of this hymn is unknown, and has been the subject of a great deal of scholarly conjecture. For a long time, many attributed it to a Franciscan friar name Jacopone da Todi (‘Big James from Todi’, about 80 miles north of Rome in Umbria; 1230 ca. – 1306); however, a fairly recent manuscript discovery has made this attribution untenable. Others have ascribed it to Pope Innocent III, who reigned from 1198-1216, and was certainly a very prolific writer in various genres, but this remains no more than a plausible conjecture.

In the Roman liturgical tradition, it is sung as a hymn in the Divine Office in one melody of the sixth Gregorian mode, and in another of the second mode as a Sequence at Mass, between the Alleluia and the Gospel.

Many great composers have also put their hand to setting it polyphonically, such as Josquin des Prez.

Palestrina’s version, composed shortly before his death in 1594, was traditionally sung in Rome on Palm Sunday.

One of the best known versions is by the Baroque composer Giovanni Battista Draghi (1710-36), who is generally known by the last name “Pergolesi”, after Pergola, the small town in the Italian Marches from which his family came. This was also composed very shortly before the author’s death, of tuberculosis at the age of only 26. This became the single most frequently printed work of sacred music in the 18th century, and, in the common fashion of the Baroque era, was reused by several other composers, including JS Bach, who turned the music into one of his German cantatas, albeit with a completely different text based on Psalm 50.

The Legend of the True Cross, by Agnolo Gaddi

Around the year 1385, the Florentine painter Agnolo Gaddi completed a cycle of paintings in the choir of the Franciscan basilica of the Holy Cross in his native city. These frescoes, which are very well preserved, are the earliest surviving Italian example of a cycle dedicated to the Legend of the True Cross, based on the stories collected in Bl. Jacopo da Voragine’s Golden Legend. Gaddi’s work is not as refined as that of the most famous version of this cycle, the one by Piero della Francesca in the basilica of St Francis in Arezzo. In a manner typical of the elaborately decorative International Gothic style, he tends to put too many figures into too small a space, which makes it difficult to read the story, especially in such a tall space. (The vault of the choir is almost 40m above the floor.) His work has also been overshadowed by some of the church’s many other artistic treasures, a few of which will be mentioned below. The eight panels are arranged in chronological order, first down the right wall, then down the left.

At the top of the first panel, Adam’s son Seth receives from the Archangel Michael a branch from the Tree of Life which grows in the Garden of Paradise; in the lower part, he plants the branch in the mouth of his dead father, who lies in his grave, with Eve mourning to the right. From this branch grows the tree which will become the wood of the Cross; the depiction of a skull at the base of Christ’s Cross derives from this legend. (In Gaddi’s time, the principles of one-point linear perspective had yet to be worked out; this is why Seth appears to be so much larger in the background than in the foreground, which should of course be done the other way around.)

Second panel – The tree lives until the time of Solomon, when it is cut down and part of it used to make a bridge. When the Queen of Sheba comes to visit Solomon, she “sees in the Spirit that the Savior of the world will be hung upon this wood”; she therefore refuses to step on it, but kneels in adoration. She then tells Solomon that someone will be hung on that wood, by whose death the kingdom of the Jews will be destroyed; the king therefore has it buried deep in the earth. (One version of the story adds that the queen had webbed feet, which were made normal by touching the wood.)

Third panel – The pool called Probatica which is mentioned in John 5, 2 is built on the place where the wood is buried; shortly before the time of Christ’s passion, the wood floats to the surface, and is used to make a cross, the one which will become His. In the background in the upper left are seen the sick people waiting for their chance to descend into the pool.

In the fourth panel, the narration switches direction, moving from right to left. The Empress Helena, mother of Constantine, discovers three crosses buried on the site of Mt Calvary; in order to determine which one is that of Christ, a dying woman is brought to the site, and completely healed at the touch of the third one. (The basilica of the Holy Cross was officially founded on May 3, 1294, the feast of the Finding of the Cross.)

Fifth panel, uppermost on the left side of the choir – St Helena brings the relics of the Cross into the newly constructed basilica of the Anastasis, which is usually called the Holy Sepulcher in the West. (The absence of linear perspective is especially notable in the improbably crooked buildings in the background.)

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Happy Birthday to Pope Leo!

Today our Holy Father Pope Leo celebrates his 70th birthday, his first birthday as Pope, on this feast of the Exaltation of the Cross. We know that our readers join us in offering prayers that God may bless and keep him, and strengthen him to lead the Church wisely and well. We also note than in three days’ time, he will celebrate his baptismal name-day on the post-Conciliar calendar, the feast of St Robert Bellarmine. Ad multos annos, sancte Pater!

The traditional prayers for the Pope said at Benediction and other occasions, from Pax inter Spinas, the printing house of the Monastère Saint-Benoît in Brignole, France.

Today is also the day on which the motu proprio Summorum Pontificum became legally active in 2007, a bit more than two months after it was promulgated. (This period, known as the vacatio legis, is a normal feature of wise acts of governance.) We hope and pray that Pope Leo will restore this most wise piece of legislation, (and perhaps put the traditional Roman Rite on an even more solid legal footing), and thereby restore to the Church some of the much-needed peace which Benedict XVI gave it. In the last several weeks and months, many prelates have expressed their sympathy for this idea; the latest, as reported by Diane Montagna, is His Eminence Angelo Cardinal Bagnasco, archbishop emeritus of Genoa, and a former president of the Italian Episcopal Conference. In an interview with the Italian newspaper Roma, he said, “I have never seen, and still do not see, how the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite … could cause problems. There are no risks or dangers if everything is approached calmly and with goodwill by all.” Indeed.

The headline of this article is “The Pope works to unite the Church”, and in connection with this, we note the following item from Vatican News. On Thursday, the Pope attended a meeting in the Vatican with several newly appointed bishops, during which, as the headline notes, he urged them to be “builders of bridges.” (This is, of course, the original meaning of the Latin word “pontifex”, which is used of all bishops, not just of the Pontifex Maximus.) And we note the following in particular:

If indeed the bishops are called to be builders of bridges, and if indeed young people are not satisfied with the typical (or, perhaps we could say “Ordinary” here) experience of our parishes, perhaps the time has come to stop expelling them from their parishes for the crime of wanting something Extraordinary. We very much hope that the welcoming back of the Summorum Pontificum pilgrimage to St Peter’s basilica is a sign for the good in this direction. 

The Dedication of the Holy Sepulchre

In the Byzantine Rite, there are three observances on the calendar today. The first is a very ancient feast adopted from the liturgical tradition of the city of Jerusalem, the annual commemoration of the dedication of the basilica of the Anastasis, which is now generally called in English “the church of the Holy Sepulchre.” This dedication was performed in the year 335 by the bishop of Jerusalem, St Macarius, in the presence of the Emperor Constantine, who had financed the building project. This church was completely destroyed in 1009 at the orders of the Muslim caliph; the building which stands on the site today is a replacement first completed about 40 years later, and has, of course, subsequently undergone innumerable modifications and renovations. (Photos of the Holy Sepulcher from a distance, on the left in the 1st photo, and of the Edicule and Rotunda, both by Fr Lawrence Lew, from this post of 2019: https://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/2019/05/photos-of-holy-land-from-fr-lew.html).

In the Byzantine liturgical ranking of feasts, Easter stands in a class by itself, followed by Twelve Great Feasts, eight of Our Lord and four of Our Lady. Most of these are preceded by a day of preparation called a Fore-feast, the equivalent of the vigils of the Roman Rite, and followed by an After-feast, the equivalent of a Roman octave, although they vary in length. Today is therefore also the Forefeast of the Exaltation of the Cross.

Many major feasts in the Byzantine Rite are followed immediately by a “synaxis” (“σύναξις” in Greek, “собóръ” in Church Slavonic), a commemoration of a sacred person who figures prominently in the feast, but who is, as it were, overshadowed by its principal subject. (Scholars of the Eastern rites also call them “concomitant feasts.”) This past Tuesday, for example, was the Synaxis of Ss Joachim and Anne, which is kept the day after the Birth of the Virgin Mary. Another is kept in honor of the Virgin Herself on the day after Christmas, another of St Gabriel on the day after the Annunciation, etc.

The Dedication of the Anastasis was one of the most important feasts in Jerusalem itself, and according to the oldest sources of the city’s native liturgical rite, was kept with an octave. (This rite is also known as the “Hagiopolite Rite”, from the Greek “Hagia polis – the Holy City.”) The Exaltation of the Cross began as a kind of synaxis or concomitant feast for this dedication, since the complex of the Anastasis also contained the site where the True Cross was found, and the Cross itself was long kept within it. In Byzantium, however, the Exaltation supplanted the dedication in importance, since the latter celebration was closely tied to the Holy City, but obviously less important outside it.

The chapel of the Finding of the Cross within the Holy Sepulcher, served by the Armenian Apostolic Church; from this post of photos by Nicola dei Grandi, also from 2019:
https://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/2019/04/a-visit-to-church-of-holy-sepulchre.html

The third feast of today is that of the centurion Cornelius who receives the Apostle Peter in his house in Acts 10. This makes for a very subtle and cleverly thought-out connection with the other two feasts. The liturgical texts of the dedication and the fore-feast refer several times to the conversion of the nations, as for example in the very first hymn of Vespers. (The text is taken from a sermon of St Gregory of Nazianzus, 44 “On the new Sunday”; P.G. XXXVI, col. 608.) 

“It was the old law that dedications be honored, and rightly so; all the more should the new things be honored through dedications, for ‘the islands are made new unto God’, as Isaiah saith, by which we should understand the churches now established from among the nations, which receive a firm foundation from God; wherefore, let us spiritually celebrate this present dedication.” (From 0:27 to 2:21 in this video: Ἐγκαίνια τιμᾶσθαι, παλαιὸς νόμος, καὶ καλῶς ἔχων· μᾶλλον δὲ τὰ νέα τιμᾶσθαι δι᾿ Ἐγκαινίων· ἐγκαινίζονται γὰρ νῆσοι πρὸς Θεόν, ὥς φησιν Ἡσαΐας· ἅς τινας ὑποληπτέον τὰς ἐξ ἐθνῶν Ἐκκλησίας, ἄρτι καθισταμένας, καὶ πῆξιν λαμβανούσας βάσιμον τῷ Θεῷ· διὸ καὶ ἡμεῖς τὰ παρόντα Ἐγκαίνια πνευματικῶς πανηγυρίσωμεν.)

Cornelius, an official representative of the Roman Empire, sends his men to fetch the Apostle Peter, the future bishop of Rome, and they find him praying in the house of Simon the Tanner at Joppe. There Peter receives the vision of the winding sheet, and learns from God Himself that the gentile nations are not required to keep the dietary restriction of the old law. The episode concludes with the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the members of the house, and “the faithful of the circumcision, who came with Peter, were astonished, for that the grace of the Holy Ghost was poured out upon the gentiles also.” The conjunction of Cornelius’ feast with the other two therefore represents the Cross of Christ as the source of grace from which the nations are converted, the Church as the place of that conversion, and the church building as the visible sign of God’s enduring presence among them.

There is another important historical detail that ties into this theme. September 13th was the date on which the ancient Romans commemorated the dedication of one of their city’s most important temples, that of Jupiter on the Capitoline Hill, where he was called “Jupiter Capitolinus.” This massive edifice and the complex that surrounded it were clearly visible from the heart of Rome’s public life, the Forum, but also from the foreigners’ quarter on the other side of the Tiber, where the Jews resided, and many of the earliest Christians among them. The historian Tacitus describes it by saying that “the enormous wealth of the Roman people acquired thereafter adorned rather than increased its splendor.” (Histories 3, 72)

The Roman Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, more or less as it would have been seen from an elevated point on the opposite side of the Tiber, with various other buildings. (Image from Wikimedia Commons.)

In 70 A.D., the Romans put down a great rebellion of the Jews that had broken out in Judaea four years earlier, and destroyed a considerable part of Jerusalem, including, most importantly, the temple. Sixty years later, the Emperor Hadrian decided to found a Roman colony on the site, which he called “Aelia Capitolina”, from his family name “Aelius”, and from a large temple to Jupiter Capitolinus which he built on or very near the site of the former Jewish temple. This may have been what provoked another rebellion in 132, which the Romans also put down with great violence, and after which, Jews were forbidden from entering the city except on the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av, to mourn the destruction of the temple on its anniversary. The memory of “Jerusalem” as such was erased so completely that the Romans themselves even forgot the name. In 310, Firmilian, the governor of the Roman province of Palestine, arrested a large number of Christians, and when they were asked what city they were from, they replied “Jerusalem”, meaning the heavenly Jerusalem, which they said was “in the East” and belonged to Christians only. Firmilian, having never heard of this place before, took this to mean that the Christians had founded a new city, which enraged him to persecute them all the more fiercely. (Eusebius of Caesarea, The Martyrs of Palestine, 11, 8 sqq.)

Jerusalem in a mosaic map in the floor of the church of St George in Madaba, Jordan, ca. 570 A.D., discovered in 1884. The main street of the Roman city of Aelia is clearly visible running through the middle of it. (Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.)

With the coming of Constantine, however, and the liberation of the Church, there also began first era of major church constructions. After building six great basilicas in Rome, Constantine moved East to Byzantium, and built several more major churches on important Christian sites, including the Anastasis. This project would have entailed destroying Hadrian’s temple of Jupiter Capitolinus.

It seems very likely, therefore, that September 13th, the date of the dedication of the original Roman temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, was deliberately chosen for the dedication of the Anastasis, as a sign that Jerusalem was now definitively cleansed of the profanation inflicted on it by the Romans, and beginning a new life as a Christian city. This is also strongly suggested by the Greek word for dedication, “enkainia”, which derives from “kainos – new.” In John 10, 22, this word refers to a festival that commemorated the “renewal” of the temple under Judas Maccabee after it was profaned by the Greeks. In the same way, the “enkainia” of the Holy Sepulcher refers to the renewal of the specific site of the Anastasis, and by extension, of the entire Holy City, after its profanation by the Romans.

The Most Holy Name of Mary 2025

At that time: the Angel Gabriel was sent from God into a city of Galilee, called Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. And the Angel being come in, said unto her: Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women. Who having heard, was troubled at his saying, and thought with herself what manner of salutation this should be. And the Angel said to her: Fear not, Mary, for thou hast found grace with God. Behold thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and shalt bring forth a son; and thou shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the most High; and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of David his father; and he shall reign in the house of Jacob for ever. And of his kingdom there shall be no end.

The Annunciation, 1430 ca., by the Florentine painter Stefano d’Antonio di Vanni (1405 ca. - 1483); in the predella, the Birth, Presentation and Dormition of the Virgin. (Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.)

And Mary said to the Angel: How shall this be done, because I know not man? And the Angel answering, said to her: The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the most High shall overshadow thee. And therefore also the Holy which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God. And behold thy cousin Elizabeth, she also hath conceived a son in her old age; and this is the sixth month with her that is called barren: Because no word shall be impossible with God. And Mary said: Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to thy word. (Luke 1, 26-38, the Gospel of the feast of the Most Holy Name of Mary.)

The Simili modo: Biblical Background

Lost in Translation #141

To turn a mixture of wine and water into the Blood of the Son of Man, the priest prays:

Símili modo postquam cenátum est, accipiens et hunc praeclárum cálicem in sanctas ac venerábiles manus suas: item tibi gratias agens, benedixit, deditque discípulis suis, dicens: Accípite, et bíbite ex eo omnes.

Hic est enim Calix Sánguinis mei, novi et aeterni testamenti: mysterium fídei: qui pro vobis et pro multis effundétur in remissiónem peccatórum.

Haec quotiescumque fecéritis, in mei memoriam faciétis.

Which I translate as:

In a similar way, after dinner, taking also this excellent chalice into His holy and venerable hands, again giving You thanks, He blessed it and gave it to His disciples saying: Take and drink from this, all of you.

For this is the Chalice of My Blood, of the new and everlasting covenant, the Mystery of Faith; which shall be poured forth for you and for many for the remission of sins.

As often as you do these things, you shall do them in memory of Me.

Today, we will examine the biblical background behind this prayer; next week, we will examine the Roman Canon’s modifications.

The Words of Institution for the Precious Blood in the New Testament are more peculiar than those for Our Lody’s Body. The Gospels according to Matthew and Mark have a straightforward formula: Hic est enim sanguis meus novi testamenti—“For this is My blood of the New Covenant” (Matt. 26, 28; see Mark 14, 24). But Luke’s Gospel and Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians have: “This chalice is the New Covenant in My Blood” (Luke 22, 20; see 1 Cor. 11, 25). The statement is sufficient for transubstantiation, but it is less direct; moreover, it draws attention to that which holds the Precious Blood, a manmade chalice, while there is no corresponding artifact of importance associated with the Host. (It rests at various times on the corporal and the paten, but neither is mentioned in the prayers). The Roman Canon follows the Lucan-Pauline tradition, although it also retains the word enim from Matthew’s account of the Last Supper (or perhaps it is a coincidence). St. Thomas Aquinas defends the formula Hic est enim Calix Sanguinis mei by arguing that the chalice is either a metonymy for Christ’s Blood or a reference to His Passion, for He referred to His Passion as a chalice (see Matt. 26, 39) and it was by virtue of His Passion that His Blood was separated from His Body. [1]

The Roman Canon follows Saints Luke and Paul in two other respects. First, both authors state that the consecration of the wine happened in a similar manner to that of the bread. The Vulgate uses the adverb similiter to express this fact, while the Canon uses the adjectival phrase simili modo.

Second, Saints Luke and Paul and the Roman Canon stipulate that the consecration of the wine took place after dinner. The Vulgate uses a simple means of communicating this fact with postquam coenavit or “After he dined.” The Canon, on the other hand, uses the impersonal passive voice, a construction popular in several languages in which the verb essentially has no subject. (The closest equivalent in English is the use of “there,” as in “There are no bananas.”) If one wanted to assert in Latin that a dance was going on, one would say saltatur, or “it is being danced.” In the case of the Canon, the phrase postquam cenatum est is most slavishly translated “after it was dined” or “after dinner took place.” The 2011 ICEL translation captures the flavor of the impersonal passive with its “when supper was ended.” Preconciliar hand Missals, on the other hand, often drew from the Vulgate phrasing and had “after He had supped.”

All four New Testament accounts identify Christ’s Blood as the Blood of the New Covenant; they do not do the same for Christ’s Body. Biblically speaking, blood is the sine qua non for contracting a covenant; indeed, the Hebrew phrase for making a covenant is “to cut a covenant.” With the exception of circumcision, Old Testament covenants were made with a vicarious victim. Here, Christ offers His own blood as an everlasting covenant for the remission of our sins. The significance is at least threefold.

The first is ablution and aspersion, washing and sprinkling. The flesh of the sacrificial lamb may have been eaten during the feast of Passover, but its blood was sprinkled on the doorposts, thereby averting the Angel of death. Similarly, St. Peter speaks of being sanctified for “the sprinkling of the Blood of Jesus Christ,” (1 Pet. 1, 2) while the Book of Revelation describes the Blood of the Lamb of God as washing the white robes of the saints. (7, 14; cf. 1, 5)

Second, the red Blood that washes white also redeems, buying us back from the slave block of the devil. In the Epistle to the Hebrews we read that “neither by the blood of goats or of calves, but by His own blood [Christ] entered once into the Holies, having obtained eternal redemption.” (Heb. 9, 12) One of the earliest epithets for the Savior’s Blood in Church parlance is pretium redemptionis nostrae, the “price of our redemption.”

Third, we remember the Atonement, with its teaching on sin and propitiation. The Blood forcibly reminds us of our shared responsibility in spilling it, and God’s mercy in accepting it as our reconciliation with Him. In the Book of Genesis, the blood of Abel “speaks” from the ground. (4, 10) What does it say? That Cain is guilty. Similarly, the Epistle to the Hebrews states that the Blood of Christ “speaks better” than Abel’s. (12, 24) What does it say? That we are guilty, but that we are also reconciled. Christ was wounded for our iniquities, (Is. 53, 5) but it is by these stripes that we are healed. (1 Pet. 2, 24) Hence, God proposes His Son as “a propitiation, through faith in His blood…for the remission of former sins.” (Rom. 3, 25)

As a sidenote, the differing qualities of body and blood are why it is appropriate to have separate feasts honoring Christ’s Eucharistic Body and His Precious Blood. For although to receive one is to receive the other (thanks to concomitance), the connotations of each are different. When we think of the Host, we think of spiritual food and, as the Feast of Corpus Christi puts it, a “pledge of our future glory,” that is, our glorified bodies. But when we think of the Precious Blood, we think of immolation, sprinkling, redemption, atonements, etc.

All three Gospels accounts use the verb fundetur or effundetur for what happens to this Blood; the Roman Canon uses effundetur. Although some preconciliar hand Missals translate effundetur as “shed,” the 2011 ICEL translation’s “poured out” is more accurate, for the verb effundere means to pour forth, rather than to cut into something and make blood flow. It is a fitting choice for the Blood that Our Lord shed, for indeed it was poured out like a libation. According to tradition, Jesus Christ was exsanguinated during His Passion, pouring forth every drop of His blood for the sake of humanity—even posthumously, His slain side issued forth blood and water. And “pouring out” also describes the movement of wine, first into the chalice and then into the mouth of the recipient.

Finally, the New Testament accounts give different answers to the question for whom this Blood is poured out. Matthew and Mark state that it is pro multis (“for many”), while Luke states that it is pro vobis (“for you”). Paul is silent on the matter; instead he writes: hoc facite quotiescumque bibetis, in meam commemorationem (“As often as you do these things, you shall do them in memory of Me.”). The Roman Canon combines all three elements into a seamless whole.

The translation of pro multis was once the subject of controversy, since the original ICEL rendered it “for all” instead of “for many” (the 2011 translation corrected this). Although God does indeed want all to be saved, (see 1 Tim. 2, 4) the translation shows a certain haughty disregard for the original meaning and raised fears that the heresy of universalism was being encouraged. My own sense is that the pro multis is not meant to weigh in on what percentage of the population is going to Heaven or Hell; rather, it is a statement about the scope of this New and Everlasting Covenant that is being cut. The Mosaic covenant, for example, was for the few, the tiny nation of Israel; the Davidic covenant was for the one, David himself. The New Covenant, by contrast, is not for the one or for the few; it is for the many, for Jew and Gentile alike. [2]

Notes

[1] Summa Theologiae III.78.3.ad 1.

[2] See [1] Summa Theologiae III.78.3.ad 8: “The blood of Christ’s Passion has its efficacy not merely in the elect among the Jews, to whom the blood of the Old Testament was exhibited, but also in the Gentiles; nor only in priests who consecrate this sacrament, and in those others who partake of it; but likewise in those for whom it is offered. And therefore He says expressly, ‘for you,’ the Jews, ‘and for many,’ namely the Gentiles; or, ‘for you’ who eat of it, and ‘for many,’ for whom it is offered.”