Tuesday, February 11, 2025

Newsreels of the Lourdes Centennial Celebrations in 1958

From the always-interesting archive of the old newsreel channel British Pathé, here is their piece on the celebrations for the centennial of the first Apparition of the Virgin Mary at Lourdes, February 11, 1958. It is remarkable to see how respectful this coverage is, from what we would now call a mainstream media outlet in a country with such long-standing and deep rooted prejudice against the Catholic Church.

And here is raw footage, without sound track, of the consecration of the atrociously ugly lower basilica, built especially to accommodate the large crowds expected for the centenary. This consecration was performed by the His Eminence Angelo Cardinal Roncalli, the future Pope St John XXIII, who had served as nuncio to France from 1944 until his appointment as Patriarch of Venice in 1953.

Also without soundtrack, footage of pilgrimage groups of gypsies at Lourdes during the centennial...

and another of an international military pilgrimage.

The Surprising Philosophical Sophistication of the Art of Paleolithic Man

...And Lessons that Could Be Learned From Them by the Neandertals in Our Universities

Here are wall paintings from underground caverns in Lascaux in the Dordogne region of southwest France, east of Bordeaux. Around 600 paintings exist in a network of underground caverns; archeologists estimate that they were painted during the Upper Paleolithic period, about 15,000 years ago. They were discovered in 1940 by an 18-year-old boy taking his dog for a walk, when the dog wandered into a hole in the ground leading to the cavern system. The paintings depict animals, plants, and one humanoid form—a man with a bird’s head. Although the exact reason for their creation is unknown, it is speculated that they hold some spiritual significance and are connected to ritualized worship.

Man with bird head (somewhat reminiscent of Ancient Egyptian god, Horus!
The idea that these paintings are linked to religious rituals is likely speculative but strikes me as reasonable. Traditional Catholic teaching tells us that man’s desire for God is natural. Although Paleolithic man would likely have had a dim and somewhat distorted sense of what God is like, it would have been as natural for Paleolithic society as for any other human society to develop and express through worship this desire for what they did know of Him. This being the case, it is also natural for them to desire to create images that help connect them with a higher being or beings in the context of their worship.

The Natural Desire for God

The generally accepted view amongst theologians today is, as I understand it, that man’s desire for God is natural but not innate. (1) There is an important distinction here. It is considered natural because it arises from the power of natural reason. However, it is not innate, meaning that the inclination to worship God is not an instinct we are born with. This inclination arises instead from our observation and reflection upon the nature of the world around us.

When they observe the world and see its vastness, beauty, order, and grandeur, many different people have, over millennia, concluded that a divine being (or beings) created and orchestrates it, and that any being capable of doing such a wonderful thing is greater than us and worthy of worship.

The powers of unaided human reason are limited, however. Thus, those without the benefit of Revelation will likely develop an incomplete, fractured or distorted picture of the deity. Through the power of natural reason alone, God will not be perceived, for example, as the one Triune God whom Christians know through Christ and the Gospel. Nevertheless, most societies, going back to the cavemen, it seems, have been at least philosophically sophisticated enough to conceive of a higher form of existence than human life, and have worshipped higher beings, often a series of pagan gods. Typically, this inspires artistic creation, and they create images of those gods to represent them gods, which are a focus of their worship.

Some, even without Revelation, would get close to the truth. Ancient Greeks, like Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and their successors, even deduced the existence of a single god or supreme Good—what one might call the “god of the philosophers”. But these are exceptions. While, as St. Thomas tells us, it is theoretically possible to use natural reason alone to deduce the existence of a single, all-powerful, all-good, and all-loving God, most societies throughout history did not reach this conclusion. Typically, they fashioned false deities, and their forms of worship were flawed. Yet, at its core, for all that, such paganism is an expression, albeit imperfect, of man’s natural desire for God. As we have stated, human reason is weak, and it is not a given that people can reflect upon the natural world and get as far, even, as concluding that there is a God or gods. Some fall at the first hurdle and reach the opposite conclusion. Accordingly, atheistic systems of thought have also arisen, often, although not always, as parallel streams of thought in predominantly religious societies and as a reaction to the religious mainstream. Even where there is no supernatural being posited in the core teachings of a system of thought, such as in Buddhism, supernatural and metaphysical elements do creep into their practices and beliefs informed by local cultures. In traditional Buddhist societies, there is mention of devas and spirits in their literature, and there are temples, which are places of quasi-religious activity such as chanting, meditation and the study of Buddhist texts. And this also inspires the creation of art - we see statues of the Buddha in Buddhist temples.
The interior of a Buddhist temple in Bangkok (Image from Wikimedia Commons by Chainwit, CC BY-SA 4.0)
From the Christian point of view, the act of worshipping any false god is a misdirected participation in its ideal, which is the act of worshipping God as part of His Church. St. Thomas Aquinas considered this act of worshipping God to arise from a virtue, which he called the virtue of religion and which he believed was the highest virtue. The virtue of religion, as defined by St. Thomas, has the purpose of rendering God the worship due to Him as the source of all being and the principle of all government of things. (2)

As we have said, neither the desire for God nor the virtue of religion are instinctive. Therefore, it is not instinctive for us to worship anything. Both arise from the use of natural reason. However, even pre-historic man was capable, it appears, of sophisticated rational thought, as evidenced by this art linked to his worship. It is one of the oddities of the modern age that so many people do not worship any god or gods and are, in this respect, one might argue, more primitive in their worldview than Upper Paleolithic man. We might describe the contemporary atheist materialist, somewhat mischievously perhaps, as philosophically sub-Paleolithic!

As followers of Christ, we are privileged to have the gift of Revelation. God has revealed Himself to us in the person of Christ, who established the Church and the patterns of authentic worship in the liturgy. To be a practising Christian is not a sign of philosophical sophistication - though philosophically sophisticated some may be - but of an openness to the gift of faith.
The face of the suffering Christ in the Franciscan Gothic style, painted by me.

The same may be said about the use of art in worship. Through his Church, Christ has informed us that the veneration of sacred art, which portrays the person of Christ, the Mother of God, and the Saints, is not merely allowed, but is an essential part of our worship and the practice of our faith. (3) This understanding helps us discern that even the simplest artistic depictions of divinity, as shown here, are a natural and wise anticipation of what God would later reveal to us personally and through His Church.

Education and Propaganda

Education and formation can cultivate this natural desire for God and help direct it to its proper end: Christian worship. This supernatural end is the prime goal of all sound education. Pope Benedict spoke of this and the need for good catechesis for initiates in the Faith, young and old. He also spoke of the need for a continuing formation in right worship after the rites of initiation, which he termed mystagogical catechesis directed to a deepening of the mysteries of the Faith. This would include teaching people to understand and value sacred art and venerate holy images appropriately.

Conversely, external influences can erase or misdirect that natural desire for God. One of the sad facts of contemporary society is that much of contemporary education is anti-Christian propaganda and is at the heart of the ‘sub-Paleolithic’ contemporary mainstream in this regard, and is an ideology that dominates our elite universities. We see the propagation of atheist Marxist ideologies through the schools and universities and the cultural institutions of Western culture such as Hollywood. Marxists typically seek to eradicate any inclination toward ritual or veneration of the divine as part of their mission to destroy the West as we know it. The very act of worship implies, at the very least, the existence of the metaphysical—a notion antithetical to their atheistic, materialist philosophies. However, these ideologies do require complete subservience to, if not actual worship of, the false god of the state, so undermining human freedom and stifling our chance of happiness by exercising that freedom in the pursuit of God.

Even the Marxists realised the importance of art in this mission. To this end, Marxists have always engaged with the popular and intellectual culture; as part of their propaganda, they create images that further their goals.

Image from Wikimedia Commons by Mark Scott Johnson, CC BY 2.0
and right worship….
1. Cf, The Natural Desire for God According to St Thomas and His Interpreters, by Lawrence Feingold, Sapientia Press, Ave Maria Univ, 2004

2. Summa Theologica, II-II, Q. l xxxi.

3. Cf, The Seventh Ecumenical Council, 787 AD.

Monday, February 10, 2025

The Feast of Saint Scholastica

Scholastica, the sister of our venerable Father Benedict, who was dedicated to the Lord Almighty from her infancy, was wont to come visit her brother once a year. The man of God went to her not far from the gate (of his monastery), at a place that belonged to it. Once, she came according to her custom, and her venerable brother with his monks went there to meet her, and they spent the whole day in the praises of God and spiritual talk, and when it was almost night, they dined together. As they were yet sitting at the table, speaking of devout matters, and the hour grew late, the holy nun, his sister, entreated him, saying, “I ask you not to leave me this night, that we may speak of the joys of the heavenly life until morning.” To which he replied, “What are you saying, sister? In no wise can I stay outside my cell!”

The final meeting between Ss Benedict and Scholastica, depicted in a 14th-century fresco in the Sacro Speco of Subiaco.
At that time, the sky was so clear that no cloud was to be seen. The holy nun, hearing this refusal of her brother, joined her hands together, laid them on the table, bowed her head on her hands, and prayed to almighty God. And when she lifted her head from the table, there fell suddenly such a tempest of lightning and thundering, and such abundance of rain, that neither venerable Benedict, nor his monks that were with him, could put their heads out of doors. The holy nun, having rested her head on her hands, poured forth such a flood of tears on the table, that she transformed the clear air to a watery sky.

After the end of her devotions, that storm of rain followed; her prayer and the rain so met together, that as she lifted up her head from the table, the thunder began. So it was that in one and the very same instant that she lifted up her head, she brought down the rain. The man of God, seeing that he could not, in the midst of such thunder and lightning and great abundance of rain return to his Abbey, began to be heavy and to complain to his sister, saying: “God forgive you, what have you done?” She answered him, “I desired you to stay, and you would not hear me; I have desired it of our good Lord, and he has granted my petition. Therefore if you can now depart, in God’s name return to your monastery, and leave me here alone.” But the good father, not being able to leave, tarried there against his will where before he would not have stayed willingly. By that means, they watched all night and with spiritual and heavenly talk mutually comforted one another.

The next day the venerable woman returned to her monastery, and the man of God to his abbey. Three days later, standing in his cell, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, he beheld the soul of his sister (which was departed from her body) ascend into heaven in the likeness of a dove. Rejoicing much to see her great glory, with hymns and praise he gave thanks to almighty God, and imparted the news of her death to his monks. He sent them presently to bring her body to his Abbey, to have it buried in that grave which he had provided for himself. By this means it fell out that, as their souls were always one in God while they lived, so their bodies continued together after their deaths. (From the Second Book of the Dialogues of St Gregory the Great, chapters 33 and 34, read in the Roman Breviary on the feast of St Scholastica.)

The Death of St Scholastica, by Paul-Joseph Delcloche, from the Church of St James in Liège. (Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.)

Sunday, February 09, 2025

The Beginning of Ambrosian Forelent

The Ambrosian season after Epiphany presents some interesting and unique characteristics compared with the same period in the Roman Rite. In the latter, from its first attestation in the Lectionary of Würzburg, the season has a full compliment of Gospel readings; in the Ambrosian Rite, on the other hand, the liturgical texts of the season were slow to evolve, but their evolution can be traced out from the surviving ancient manuscripts.

The traditional Roman rubrics are organized in such a way that none of the Sundays between Epiphany and Septuagesima are omitted; in the Tridentine reform, a system was created, and is still in use, by which those which cannot be celebrated in their regular place are moved to the end of the season after Pentecost. The Ambrosian Rite has no such tradition, with the exception of the Sixth Sunday after Epiphany, which is never omitted, and always celebrated as the last Sunday before Septuagesima. (Prior to the Borromean reform of the Ambrosian liturgical books, this Sunday was called “the Fifth after Epiphany”, and there was no Sixth, since Easter very rarely occurs late enough for one to be necessary.) This custom is first attested in a liturgical ordo called the “Beroldus Novus” in the 13th century; its origin is to be found by tracing out the history of the period in Ambrosian liturgical books.

A page of an Ambrosian Missal printed in Milan in 1522, wth the Mass of the Fifth Sunday after Epiphany, preceded by the rubric that it is always celebrated “next to” (juxta) Septuagesima.
A codex kept in the Capitular Library of the basilica of St John the Baptist in Busto Arsizio contains a very ancient order of readings, one which certainly predates the Carolingian period, when the Ambrosian lectionary underwent a major reform. This codex has two different lists of Gospels, a “capitulary”, which is older, and gives only the incipits, and a later “evangeliary”, which gives the full texts. The differences between these two bear witness to two different phases in the evolution of the lectionary tradition. The capitulary has readings for only the first two Sundays after Epiphany, with no signs of any later corrections, while the evangeliary gives Gospel pericopes for the first four Sundays, with corrections added later in a Romanizing direction.

Neither list mentions a Fifth Sunday, which in most medieval missals was given as the last of the season, since the Sixth Sunday only very rarely occurs. The Ambrosian Rite borrowed the three Sundays of the Roman Forelent in at least two stages, and while both lists include the Sundays of Sexagesima and Quinquagesima, the capitulary does not include Septuagesima.

In the Ambrosian Missals of Bergamo (mid-9th century) and Biasca (end of the 9th century), which are fully in line with the Carolingian reform, the order of readings agrees with that of the “corrections” in the evangeliary of Busto. Furthermore, both of these have as the Gospel of the Fifth Sunday that which is now read on the Sixth, Matthew 17, 14-20. (As noted above, this will remain in place until the minor adjustment of the Borromean reform.)

“At that time: there came to the Lord Jesus a man falling down on his knees before him, saying: Lord, have pity on my son, for he is a lunatic, and suffereth much: for he falleth often into the fire, and often into the water. And I brought him to thy disciples, and they could not cure him. Then Jesus answered and said: O unbelieving and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you? How long shall I suffer you? bring him hither to me. And Jesus rebuked him, and the devil went out of him, and the child was cured from that hour. Then came the disciples to Jesus secretly, and said: Why could not we cast him out? Jesus said to them: Because of your unbelief. For, amen I say to you, if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you shall say to this mountain, Remove from hence hither, and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible to you. But this kind is not cast out but by prayer and fasting.”

The healing of the possessed boy; folio 166r of Les Très Riches Heures du duc de Berry. Here it is used to illustrate the Gospel of the Third Sunday of Lent, Luke 11, 14-28, which begins with the expulsion of a devil from a mute, and in which Christ goes on to say “if I cast out devils by Beelzebub; by whom do your children cast them out? Therefore they shall be your judges. But if I by the finger of God cast out devils; doubtless the kingdom of God is come upon you.” (Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons)
The fact that this pericope is always found just before Forelent provides a useful clue as to its origin. Unlike the other Gospels of this season, it has no parallel at all in the Roman Rite, and therefore clearly does not derive from the Romanizing tendency attested by the corrections in the Busto manuscript. The admonition at the end to prayer and fasting gives it a clearly penitential character, which explains why it is always read as the introduction to Forelent, as the Church prepares itself for an intensified period of prayer and fasting.

The introduction of this final Sunday is further explained by a shrewd observation of the scholar Patrizia Carmassi regarding another lectionary, a codex in the Ambrosian Library (A 23 bis inf.) of the 13th century, but certainly copied from a much older archetype. This manuscript contains a list of the prophetic readings for the whole liturgical year, with a very significant correction for the Fifth Sunday after Epiphany; the rubricated title “Dominica Quinta post Epiphaniam” is cancelled out and replaced with “Dominica in Septuagesima.” We may therefore suppose that the archetype did not include Septuagesima, but did have the Fifth Sunday after Epiphany, a problem which the later copyist fixed simply by changing the title, treating it as an alternative for the older title.

In the Codex Mediolanensis, a Gospel book from the area of Milan with liturgical notes that date it to the 7th or 8th century, Septuagesima is still missing. Nevertheless, in the early Carolingian period, when the liturgical books of Milan were being revised and Romanized, the fourth and fifth Sundays after Epiphany were added. From this, we may deduce that these Sundays were seen as part of Forelent, along with Sexagesima and Quinquagesima, and the adoption of Septuagesima was therefore felt to be unnecessary. The custom of always reading Matthew 17, 14-20, on the Sunday before Septuagesima therefore reflects an ancient understanding of it as part of Forelent, regardless of what that Sunday is actually called.

There are some interesting parallels to the Ambrosian Gospel in other non-Roman western rites. In the oldest form of the Mozarabic lectionary, there is only one Sunday of Forelent, called “ante carnes tollendas – before taking away meat.” The Gospel of this Sunday, Matthew 17, 1-20, includes both the episode of Christ’s Transfiguration, and that of the possessed child read in the Ambrosian Rite. In two lectionaries of the ancient Gallican Rite, that of Luxeuil (6th century) and a fragmentary manuscript at Würzburg (7th century) the Gospel of the same Sunday, which is called “the Sunday after St Peter’s Chair”, is only the first part, Matthew 17, 1-9, which the Roman Rite reads on the Second Sunday of Lent, and the preceding Ember Saturday.

The Transfiguration, by Raphael, 1517-19; in the lower part, the possessed child and his father are seen before the remaining nine Apostles.
In this episode, Moses and Elijah, who appear to either side of the Lord, represent the catechumens, since they both undertook a fast of 40 days in preparation for a vision of the Lord, as the catechumens do in Lent, to prepare themselves for the illumination of baptism at Easter. The antiquity of the association between this episode and the discipline of Lent is shown by a passage of St Ambrose’s commentary on the Song of Songs.

“Moses, set on the mountain for forty days, and receiving the Law, required no food for his body: Elijah, hastening to his rest, asked that his soul be taken from him: Peter, also on a mountain, looking upon the glory of the Lord’s resurrection, did not wish to come down, saying ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here.’ ”

This passage is ideally placed between the Baptism of Christ, celebrated on Epiphany, and His passion, as Ambrose explains in his book “On the Holy Spirit” (16, 755b).

“So that you may know that (God) made mention of the Lord Jesus’ descent (from heaven in the Incarnation), he further adds that he proclaimed his Anointed one unto men (Amos 4, 13); for at the Baptism, he proclaimed this, saying, ‘Thou are my most beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.’ (Matthew 3, 17). He proclaimed this on the mountain, saying, ‘This is my beloved Son, hear ye Him. (Matthew 17, 17). He proclaimed this in His Passion, when the sun departed, and the seas and land trembled.”

The Mozarabic Rite, however, extends the Gospel of the Sunday “ante carnes tollendas” to include the episode of the possessed boy. This can be explained from a sermon of St Isidore of Seville, who compares the exorcism which Christ performed on the boy to the one performed as part of the rite of baptism.

“Exorcism is a word (or ‘speech’) of rebuke against an unclean spirit in regard to the possessed, but is also done for the catechumens, and by it, the most wicked power of the devil and his ancient malice, or his violent incursion, is expelled and put to flight. This is signified by that lunatic whom Jesus rebuked, and the demon went out from him. But the power of the devil is exorcized, and they are breathed upon, so that they may renounce him, and being delivered from the power of darkness, may be taken over to the kingdom of their Lord though the sacrament of Baptism.”

However, it still remains to be explained why the Gallican tradition includes only the episode of the Transfiguration, the Mozarabic that of the Transfiguration and the possessed boy, while the Ambrosian includes only the latter.

This article is mostly a translation of notes written by Nicola de’ Grandi.

Saturday, February 08, 2025

Epiphany Celebration at the Palestrina500 Festival

On Monday, January 6th, the feast of the Epiphany, the church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Grand Rapids, Michigan, welcomed Schola Antiqua of Chicago to sing a choral meditation and Mass for the second major event of the parish’s Palestrina500 festival, a year-long celebration in honor of the fifth centennial of the great composer’s birth.

The choral meditation consisted of the following works by Palestrina:

Hostis Herodes impie
Stella quam viderant
Magnificat on the 4th tone
Ave Maris Stella
Vergine Bella
Vergine Chiara
Miserere, Mei Deus
Litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary M à 6
Sicut Cervus
as well as a Spanish carol by Guerrero, Me fe, vengo de Belén.
The Mass featured the Missa Alma Redemptoris Mater, as well as Palestrina’s setting of the Offertory antiphon Reges Tharsis, and his equal voice setting of the aforementioned Marian antiphon.
On Friday, February 14, Sacred Heart will welcome The Gesualdo Six, who will sing an hour long choral meditation at 5:30pm, and the Missa Sine Nomine for the feast of St. Valentine at 7pm. For the full schedule of Palestrina500 events, go to palestrina500.org.
Tradition is for the young.

Friday, February 07, 2025

St Luke the Younger, and the Monastery of Hosios Loukas

In the Byzantine Rite, today is the feast of a Saint called Luke, a monk who lived in the 10th century, and is traditionally known by variety of epithets: “the Younger”, to distinguish him from the Evangelist; “of Steiris” or “Steirion”, the place where he died and was buried; “of Hellas”, the Greek word for “Greece”; and the Wonderworker (Thaumaturgus), in part because he is one of the first Saints who miraculously levitated. He was born in 896, and died on this day in either 946 or 953.

A mosaic portrait of St Luke in the church of the monastery dedicated to him, which houses his relics, described further below. 
He was the third of seven children born to a couple named Stephan and Euphrosyne, who had fled from the island of Aegina, about 23 miles to the south-west of Athens, and settled in the central region of Thessaly. From an early age, Luke practiced the works of charity, giving away his clothes and food to the poor, and showed a strong inclination to the ascetic and devotional life. After his father’s death, he left home to seek a monastery to enter, but was captured by soldiers who mistook him for a runaway slave, and sent back home after being badly mistreated. Some time later, his mother allowed him to travel as far as Athens with two monks who were on pilgrimage from Rome to the Holy Land, and in that city, entered a monastery. However, the abbot had a vision of his mother asking him to be sent back, and so he was.

As a dutiful son, Luke returned to his family, but only four months later, Euphrosyne accepted her son’s vocation, and allowed him to depart once again; he was then eighteen years old. He made his way to a mountain near Corinth, where he built himself a hermitage, and lived a life of great austerity, followed, as such lives as wont to be, by many miracles.

The 10th century was not a peaceful one in Greece’s history, and the disturbances of his times drove St Luke to move on several occasions. He eventually settled in the region of Boeotia, on the northern side of the Gulf of Corinth. On the slopes of Mt Helicon, at a place called Steiris, he founded a new hermitage, and in due course, as men came to live near him, this was formally established as a small monastery. He died seven years later after an illness of some months, during which he prophesied that Steiris would become the site of a great church and monastery, and a place of pilgrimage. The presence of his own relics there is one of the reasons why this prophecy came true, since he is one of the Saints whose tomb issues a stream of perfumed oil, along with such other Eastern luminaries and wonderworkers as Nicholas of Myra and Demetrius of Thessalonica.

The monastery has two churches right next to each other, which is not an unusual arrangement in the Byzantine world. The older and simpler one was founded in St Luke’s lifetime, and is the only church certainly known to have been built in the 10th century in mainland Greece. Next to it stands a much grander one called the Catholicon, a term which sometimes means the cathedral of a diocese, and sometimes, the largest or most important church within a monastic complex, as it does here. This was built in the early 11th century to house the Saint’s tomb, and is famous for amount and quality of both fresco and mosaic work, contemporary to the original construction, which is preserved within it. There are a huge number of good quality photographs of it on Wikimedia Commons; here is just a small selection. 

The exterior of the rear of the two churches, the catholicon on the left, and the older church (originally dedicated to St Barbara, but now to the Virgin Mary) on the right.
The façade of the catholicon.
The tomb of St Luke in the crypt.
A fresco in the crypt of the burial of Christ, and the appearance of the angels to the woman at the empty tomb.

The In spiritu humilitatis

Lost in Translation #119

The traditional Roman liturgy follows a reasonable pattern. After offering first the bread and then the wine (once it has been prepared), the priest offers himself:

In spíritu humilitátis et in ánimo contríto suscipiámur a te, Dómine: et sic fiat sacrificium nostrum in conspectu tuo hodie, ut pláceat tibi, Dómine Deus.
Which I translate as:
In the spirit of humility and with a contrite heart may we be accepted by Thee, O Lord, and may our sacrifice be made in Thy sight this day, that it may please Thee, O Lord God.
Like the Offerimus tibi, the number of the main verb is plural rather than singular, but the reason is not so clear. As we explained earlier, the priest and deacon at a Solemn High Mass say the Offerimus tibi together as they both touch the elevated base of the chalice. The “we” in the Offerimus tibi, then, refers to the priest and deacon. With the In spiritu humilitatis, on the other hand, the deacon does not say the prayer or bow with the priest, for he is giving the paten to the subdeacon and laying the purificator beside the corporal. [1]
Abbé Claude Barthe speculates that the plural is an instance of the “royal we,” [2] but the “royal we” is only used by popes and monarchs, and I do not see it used by a priest anywhere else in the liturgy. I instead contend that the priest has in mind the deacon and subdeacon as part of the “we” when he says this prayer, and for three reasons:
First, the deacon and subdeacon are more involved than anyone else in these acts of offering. During a Solemn High Mass (which, it must be recalled, is the normative form of the rite), lesser ministers such as the acolytes have less of a role to play in the Offertory preparations. The Angelus Press Missal claims that the priest has the assembled faithful in mind, which may be true; and there is certainly no harm in the laity using this possibility as part of their devotions during Mass. Nevertheless, I think it is more likely that, although the priest referred to them at the Suscipe Sancte Pater and will refer to them again at the Orate fratres, he is not doing so here.
Second, the deacon and subdeacon are physically near the priest as he says this prayer. It is as if the priest were saying, “My two closest assistants are busy right now, but on their behalf I pray that we are accepted by You.”
Third, the word of this prayer come from the prayer (Daniel 3, 26-45) spoken by Ananias when he and his companions Azarias and Misael were thrown into King Nebuchadnezzar II’s furnace to be burned alive. The three young men make the same number here as the priest, deacon, and subdeacon. In terms of strict logical necessity, this reason is perhaps a little weak, for one can easily and appropriately take a prayer intended for a given number of people and use it for a different number. Still, when the same number is involved, the relationship between the two is symbolically tightened. In this case, the resolution to the original story aligns well with the ultimate telos of this Offertory prayer. In the Book of Daniel, Nebuchadnezzar experiences a double astonishment: not only have the three youths been spared, but he sees as well “four men loose walking in the midst of the fire…and the form of the fourth is like the son of God.” (Dan. 3, 92) Is not the goal of the priest and his ministers during the Offertory and Canon to make present that fourth man, the Son of God?
An additional uncertainty is the meaning of the final petition, et sic fiat sacrifícium nostrum in conspectu tuo hodie, ut placeat tibi, Domine Deus, which is often translated along these lines: “And may the sacrifice which we offer this day in Thy sight be pleasing to Thee, O Lord God.” [3] I think the original biblical context, however, supports a different reading. The Douay Rheims translation of Daniel 3, 40 is “let our sacrifice be made in Thy sight this day, that it may please Thee.” In the first translation, we do not know when the sacrifice occurs (it could have just happened now in this act of self-offering), but we do know that it is happening today and in God’s sight. Our only worry is that it may not be pleasing to God, so we ask Him for that favor.
In the second translation, the sacrifice has not yet happened (in the case of the three youths, it will only happen when the king tries to turn them into a burnt holocaust) and the petitioners want the sacrifice, when it is made, to be made in God’s sight. The petitioners, in other words, want God to sanctify a sacrifice that is about to happen, which only God can do. And when God sanctifies a sacrifice, He recognizes His own in the sacrifice, so to speak, and is pleased by it. Pleasing God with sacrifice is the only reason for sacrificing in the first place.
A mosaic of the three young men in the fiery furnace, early 11th century, in the monastery of St Luke (Hosios Lukas) in the Greek province of Boeotia. (Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.)
For “being accepted” in Daniel 3, 39, the Vulgate uses suscipiamur, and the In spiritu humilitatis faithfully follows this choice. Latin has several verbs to signify accepting or receiving. In the capio family alone, there are four. Capio means to grab, and it takes on different nuances depending on the prefix attached to it. Ad+capio or accipio literally means to take something to oneself; it is the origin of our work “accept.” Concipio is a combination of cum/con and capio. Cum/con can be used as an emphatic to amplify the power of the verb, but as the Latin preposition for “with,” it also implies a joint activity with someone or something else. Perhaps that is why concipio was the preferred way to express receiving fecundation—in other words, conception. Recipio, or re+capio means to take back and is the origin of our word “receive.”
But the Vulgate used the fourth variation. Suscipio is a contraction of sub+capio. Literally, the compound means to grab from underneath, as if reversing the fall of something by supporting it from below. But usually, helping someone who is falling down involves lifting them up. Suscipio thus came to mean “taking up” or “receiving.”
The connotation fits in well with the context. The priest is literally falling down when he utters these words, that is, he is bowed in humility, and his inner spirit, humble and contrite, is doing the same. He is also asking that the sacrifice be made in God’s sight, who is above us; thus, he is essentially asking God to take the sacrifice up to Him.
And there is an added connotation. Besides the generic meaning of “taking up,” suscipio has the specific meaning of taking up “a new-born child from the ground; hence, to acknowledge, recognize, bring up as one’s own.” [4] This act of “taking up” as a father’s way of accepting his paternity has surprising cross-cultural references. In ancient India, for example, the father sniffed the newborn babe of his wife, similar to that of an animal, as a way of ritually acknowledging this child as his own (long before the benefits of a DNA test). When we ask God to take Him up to ourselves, could it be that we are asking Him to be recognized as His adopted sons?
Finally, with the exception of the offering of wine, every offering during the Offertory uses the verb suscipio: the offering of the host during the Suscipe Sancte Pater, the offering of the priest, deacon, and subdeacon during the In spiritu humilitatis, the offering of the (entire) oblation during the Suscipe Sancte Trinitas, and the offering made by the congregation during the Suscipiat Dominus. The use of suscipio thus creates a chain that verbally binds together the different ceremonies of the Offertory into a single and unified oblation.
Notes
[1] See Adrian Fortescue, Ceremonies of the Roman Rite (Westminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1953), 107.
[2] Forest of Symbols, 85.
[3] Angelus Press Missal (2004), 863. See St. Andrew Missal (1953), 902.
[4] “Suscipio,” Lewis and Short Latin Dictionary, 2.B.1.

Thursday, February 06, 2025

The Feast of St Agatha in Catania, Sicily

Yesterday was the feast of St Agatha, the patron Saint of her native city of Catania in Sicily. Dr Kwasniewski is currently there with a pilgrimage group, and took these pictures of the procession with her relics on the eve of the feast. The local custom is to carry decorated candles during the procession, and with the classically southern Italian idea that if a thing is worth doing, it’s worth overdoing, some of these candles are absolutely enormous, weighing about a hundred pounds. There are also some very lovely photos of the very tall floats made by various confraternities and religious for the processions.

Peter wrote about attending this event, “I saw today in Catania one of the most extraordinary sights of my life: hundreds of thousands of Sicilians paying homage to their patroness St Agatha—in the carrying of hundred-pound (and more) enormous candles; in the offering of countless individual candles and bouquets of flowers; in waiting for hours for the Saint’s relics to pass by, borne on a gigantic silver reliquary float pulled by hundreds of devotees wearing white garments and medallions; in the elaborate carved representations of each historic guild; in shouting ‘Viva Sant’ Agatha!’," and fireworks—an ENTIRE CITY completely given over to a three-day ritual of devotion that has been repeated for centuries. NOTHING like this exists in the Anglo world. I have serious civilizational envy. My eyes welled with tears several times. How could one not be moved to the depth of one’s being?”

The cathedral decorated and lit up for the feast.
Illuminated arches set up over the streets along the processional route.

The giant silver reliquary carried in the procession.

LOTS of candles!
An honor guard stays with the reliquary when it is in the cathedral. The military unit providing the guard is called the Carabinieri (riflemen), which is a kind of national police force, but is legally part of the Italian army. It originated as a company within the army of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, and retains a colorful parade uniform from the 19th century.
 
Parade floats of various confraternities.

Wednesday, February 05, 2025

The Legend of St Agatha

Like many of the ancient virgin martyrs, Saint Agatha was made to suffer for the faith because she refused to marry a pagan who wished to marry her. In her case, it was a man of consular rank named Quintianus, who tried to use the Emperor Decius’ edict of persecution against her. The story of her martyrdom is summed up thus by the 1529 Breviary of the Roman Curia, the predecessor of the Breviary of St Pius V. When Agatha was sent to prison, after various torments and interrogations,
She stretched out her hands to the Lord and said, “O Lord who made and created me, and have kept me from my infancy, … who took from me the love of the world, who have kept my body from pollution, who made me to overcome the executioner’s torments, iron, fire and chains, who gave me the virtue of patience in the midst of torments, I pray Thee to receive my spirit. For it is time, Lord, that Thou command me to leave this world, and come to Thy mercy. Saying this, she sent forth her blessed spirit. The Christian people, taking away her holy body, set it in a new sepulcher, after anointing it. And when she was being laid to rest, there came a young man dressed in silken garments, … and he entered the place where the holy virgin’s body was being laid, and set there a small marble plaque on which it was written, “A holy mind, willing, honor to God, and the liberation of the fatherland.” And he stood there until the sepulcher was diligently closed, and then departing was seen no more in all the province of Sicily; whence there is no doubt that he was and Angel of God.
St Peter Heals St Agatha in Prison, by Giovanni Lanfranco, 1614 
The words on the plaque described above in Latin are “Mentem sanctam, spontaneam, honorem Deo, et patriae liberationem.” They are a grammatical fragment, consisting of three nouns in the accusative (objective) case, and their modifiers, without a verb or subject. “Spontaneam” can be read as if it modified “mentem”, but the Blessed Jacopo da Voragine in the Golden Legend explains the inscription thus. “It means ‘She had a holy mind, she offered herself willingly, she gave honor to God, and brought about the liberation of the fatherland.’ ”

These words were set to music, and commonly sung as the antiphon for the Magnificat at First Vespers of the feast of St Agatha. This antiphon was removed from the Roman Breviary in the Tridentine reform, which also no long mentions the plaque or the angel in the Matins lessons; it was retained, however, by the Dominicans and Cistercians. The motive may have been that the story itself was thought to be unlikely, and it is certainly true that the acts of St Agatha are not considered to be historically reliable; or it may have been simply because it is a grammatical fragment.

An antiphonary from the Franciscan convent of Fribourg, Switerland, 1488, with the antiphon “Mentem sanctam.” (source)
This story was also known to the composer of her liturgical texts in the Byzantine Rite, in which the following hymn is sung at Vespers of her feast. (In this case, the words ‘A holy mind etc.’ are in the nominative case, but are still a grammatical fragment.)
An unexpected wonder took place in the contest of Agatha, the all-glorious Martyr of Christ our God, something to rival Moses; for he, in giving the Law to the people on the mountain, received the divinely-written Scriptures engraved upon a tablet, but here an Angel bore a plaque from heaven to the grave, on which was written, ‘A holy mind, acting of free will; honor from God; the liberation of the fatherland.’
Vice versa, the composer of her Latin legend borrowed one of the most famous texts of the Byzantine Rite. The words cited above, “The Christian people, taking away her holy body, set it in a new sepulcher, after anointing it”, are a partial quotation of the troparion sung at the Shroud Vespers of Good Friday, the principle commemoration of the Lord’s Passion: “The noble Joseph, when he had taken Thy spotless body down from the Cross, and wrapped it in a shroud with sweet spices, and laid it in a new grave.”   

The inscription may also be seen on many church bells, which were often rung to warn people of some impending danger. The blessing of a bell traditionally included a prayer which asked that
when its melody shall sound in the ears of the peoples, may the devotion of their faith increase; may all the snares of the enemy, the crash of hail-storms and hurricanes, the violence of tempests be driven far away; may the deadly thunder be weakened, may the winds become salubrious, and be kept in check; may the right hand of Thy strength lay low the powers of the air, so that hearing this bell they may tremble and flee before the standard of the holy cross of Thy Son…(Pontificale Romanum)
The inscription of St Agatha on a bell in the Italian city of Laurino.
This may derive from the tradition that St Agatha repeatedly delivered the city of Catania where she was martyred from the dangers posed by the eruption of Mt Etna, a fact to which the Golden Legend also refers.
When a year had passed, around the day of (Agatha’s) birth into heaven, a very great mountain near the city burst and belched forth a fire, which coming down from the mountain like a flood, and turning both stones and earth to liquid, was coming toward the city with a great rush. Then the multitude of pagans went down from the mountain and felling to her sepulcher, took the veil with which it was covered, a set it against the fire; and immediately on the day of the virgin’s birth, the fire stood and proceeded no further.
This story appears in the Office of St Agatha in the antiphon of the Benedictus.
The multitude of pagans, fleeing to the to the virgin’s grave, and took her veil against the fire; that the Lord might prove that he delivered them from the dangers of the fire by the merits of the blessed Agatha, His Martyr.
St Agatha’s veil drives the fires of Mt Etna away from Catania, by Cesare Nebbia and Girolamo Muziano, 1580-83; from the Hall of the Maps in the Vatican Museums.
Relics displayed in the Cathedral of Catania on the feast of St Agatha, including her veil, the red piece of cloth in the tallest reliquary in the middle. It is still frequently carried in processions in the city and environs.
A 13th-century reliquary of the Saint, crusted over with jewels that have been donated to her over the centuries. In her left hand she holds a plaque with the famous inscription on it.

The Rhythms of Day and Night in the Rule of St. Benedict - Guest Article by a Monk

The following article was given to NLM by a monk of the Order of St. Benedict who writes under the pen name Placidus. Any reader who would like to get in touch with him may write to placidus12986@gmail.com.

I have often wondered how a monk would have spent his day in the time of St. Benedict. An overview of his Rule for Monasteries shows that he would typically divide his time between five things: praying, studying, working, eating, and sleeping. The way that these activities where distributed throughout the day, however, depended upon the amount of daylight available for artisanal or outdoor agrarian work, and the amount of darkness from which one could profit a full night’s sleep.

In St Benedict’s day, an hour was not counted by a division into 24 equal parts of the period from one solar noon to the next. Rather, one solar hour of the day was counted as one twelfth part of the period from sunrise to sunset, and a nocturnal hour was likewise one twelfth of the period between sunset and sunrise. At Montecassino, the total duration of the twelve daylight hours varies from about 15 conventional hours at the summer solstice to a bit more than 9 conventional hours at the winter solstice.

How one calculates an hour is somewhat arbitrary in the end, but the main principle is that it be based on some fixed law of motion, if, indeed, time is the numbering of motion according to an order of before and after. Whether one calculates time according to the daily motions of the sun, or the vibrations of a caesium atom, is a matter of taste and practicality. In a technocratic culture dependent upon world-wide commerce, communication, and travel, a system of time-keeping that admits of no variation anywhere in the world makes sense. But in an agrarian culture that is without such dependencies, as was that of rural Italy in the time of St. Benedict, the daily motion of the sun was the natural choice for tracking the day.

A Roman solar day near the summer solstice

A Roman solar day near the winter solstice

One of the reasons why St. Benedict calculates the hours according to the amount of daylight is because the liturgical day ends at sunset, and so the daily requirement of praying to God seven times a day (cf. Ps. 118, 164) was to be completed before then. Hence, for St. Benedict, a monk’s prayer was to be distributed according to evenly spaced solar hours between sunrise and sunset. Lauds, therefore, is generally prayed at first-light, such that it concludes near the moment of sunrise, Prime is one solar-hour after sunrise, Terce is around three later, Sext is at solar-noon, None is around nine solar-hours later, and Vespers occurs about an hour or so before sunset, whereas Compline is sung at sunset, during the twilight period, so as to close off the day. [1] All of these, St. Benedict says, must be sung while there is still some light in the sky.

However, Scripture also tells us to pray at night (Ps. 118, 62), and so St. Benedict prescribes that the office of Matins (or Vigils) be prayed after a full night’s sleep in winter (eight hours after sunset), and just before Lauds in Summer, since the time between sunset and sunrise for most of this season is not enough for a full night’s sleep. [2] To make up for these short nights, a siesta is added before None so that the monk still gets his total of eight hours of sleep each day.

In winter (October 1st to Easter), St. Benedict has his monks spend any available time between Matins and Terce and between None and Vespers doing lectio divina, the prayerful study and meditation on Sacred Scripture and the Church Fathers, or else the monks are to memorize those Psalms that have not yet been learned by heart. But the warmer and brighter hours between Terce and None during this season are spent outside doing manual labor. However, in summer (Easter to October 1st), the inverse occurs. The monk spends the hottest hours in the middle of the day between Terce and None inside the monastery doing his lectio divina, whereas he spends the cooler hours in the morning between Prime and Terce or in the evening between None and Vespers doing manual labor outside, or he spends it doing artisanal labor in one of the monastery’s workshops.

Yearly solar horarium according to the Rule of St. Benedict, chs. 8, 41, 48

In any medieval monastery, study was easily done in summertime within the cool, stone interior of the monastery’s scriptorium or cloister-walk, but in wintertime, it was done by candlelight at the fireside of the calefactory. However, indoor artisanal work requires at least daylight coming through the workshop windows, and agrarian labor also requires bearable outdoor temperatures, determined by the passing of the sun. The day is arranged, then, to make the most efficient use of light and temperature.

The taking of meals also reflects this harmony with and dependence upon the sun and seasonal changes. In fall and winter (beginning on September 14t), when there is less manual work to do outside, the monk eats less, taking his one main meal after None, or after Vespers during Lent, but in summer (beginning at Easter), when the manual work is more intense, the monk eats his main meal after Sext and also takes supper after Vespers. However, in accord with his Italian heritage, St. Benedict makes no mention of breakfast in the early morning.

Now, if we compare the total amount of time given to each activity, mentioned above, we can see that the monk spends an average of 5½ hours a day in manual labor and 4 hours in study. These vary inversely so that there is more work in the summer, but more study in the winter. The monk also has the option of replacing his siesta in summer with more study, if he wishes.

Likewise, the monk spends from around 4 to 5 hours a day in liturgical prayer and about ¾ to 1¼ hours at meals. These are similarly related inversely so that the extra time during the monastic fast between September 14th and Easter, when only one meal is taken rather than two, is replaced by more time in liturgical prayer, i.e. at Matins. The monk also has the option here of adding more time for personal prayer in the chapel on his own, perhaps during the long period between Matins and Lauds in Winter. Hence, as the night hours increase, study and prayer increase, but when the daylight hours increase, work and bodily nourishment increase.


There are many things that we can learn from this contemplative rhythm of life that is built around this daily ebb and flow of light and warmth. The monk sees the rising of the sun each day as he comes out from Lauds, having just admonished all creation to divine praises: “Praise him sun and moon, praise him every star and light” (Ps. 148, 3; cf. Dan. 3, 56-88), and thus he is reminded by the dawn of God’s loving Providence over all things. In the hymn at Lauds the monk praises God for having created night and day:
Maker of all, eternal King / Who day and night about dost bring / Who weary mortals to relieve / Dost in their times the seasons give.

Now the shrill cock proclaims the day / And calls the sun’s awakening ray / The wandering pilgrim’s guiding light / That marks the watches night by night. . . .

O let us then like men arise / The cock rebukes the slumbering eye / Bestirs who still in sleep would lie / And shames who would their Lord deny. [3]
The Creator of the day speaks to us through nature, both by the rising light of dawn as by the rooster’s crow, which both attest to the ordered celestial laws that govern the days, months, and years, as well as to the necessary submission of nature to those same laws. If the rooster is obedient to the rising light and announces on time its maker’s glory, all the more are we encouraged to do so. Hence, St. Benedict rouses his monks to wakefulness in the Rule, saying,
Let us then rise at length, since the Scripture arouseth us, saying: “It is now the hour for us to rise from sleep” (Rom. 13, 11); and having opened our eyes to the deifying light, let us hear with awestruck ears what the divine voice, crying out daily, doth admonish us, saying: “Today, if you shall hear his voice, harden not your hearts” (Ps. 94, 8) . . . “Run whilst you have the light of life, that the darkness of death overtake you not” (John 12, 35). [4]
The urgency of his admonition is all the more apparent when the time one has for daily work is clearly marked by the unchanging laws of the sun. “Are there not twelve hours in the day? If any one walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world” (John 11, 9). All that we have is today for our conversion; no man knows if the sun will rise for him again. “Night is coming when no man can work” (John 9, 4). The Scripture that is read each day at Lauds also warns us to cast off the night of our sins and to put on Christ.
The night is far gone, the day is at hand. Let us then cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us conduct ourselves becomingly as in the day (Rom. 13, 12-13).
Singing Lauds just before sunrise reminds us that Christ himself is coming: “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light” (Eph. 5, 14). Nearly every day the monk is reminded in song of this rising light, which he sees with his own eyes and knows in his own soul: the physical light that casts off the shadow of night, and the spiritual light that breaks through the darkness of sin. The rising light of day recalls to mind that we are given yet another chance to return to Christ: “Therefore, our days are lengthened to a truce for the amendment of the misdeeds of our present life.” [5]

Dusk on the mountain in November

At Vespers, the monks recalls again the ordered harmony of the celestial motions:
O God, whose hand hath spread the sky / And all its shining hosts on high / And painting it with fiery light / Made it so beauteous and so bright.

Thou, when the fourth day was begun / Didst frame the circle of the sun / And set the moon for ordered change / And planets for their wider range. [6]
These ordered laws that govern the heavenly motions are continually proposed to the monk for contemplation: the circuit of the sun, the phases of the moon, the wheeling stars and wandering planets. All of these point in their constant change to something changeless and eternal: the Divine Will and Providence, unchanging in its firmness, but which governs all things with love and sweetness, bringing them to their preordained consummation. Meditating on this divine rule in the ordered changes of the seasons, the great St. Boethius declared shortly before his execution,
Thou short the days dost make / When Winter from the trees the leaves doth take,
Thou, when the fiery sun / Doth Summer cause, makest the nights swiftly run.
Thy might doth rule the year / As northern winds the leaves away do bear . . .
None from Thy laws are free, / Nor can forsake their place ordained by Thee.
Thou to that certain end / Governest all things. [7]
Living by the rhythms of the sun, the monks of old were compelled to assent to its benign governance, and through submitting to its care, they were made to acknowledge the One who created it, and who is ever over all things, supreme.

NOTES 

[1] St. Benedict has Terce and None vary slightly according to the season, depending on the exigencies for outdoor manual labor and the time given to study or lectio divina.

[2] Lauds follows shortly after Matins from Easter to November. However, since Matins is longer from November until Easter by as much as ½ an hour due to lengthier readings, Lauds moves back to just before sunrise.

[3] From the hymn Ætérne rerum Cónditor, from Lauds on Sunday.

[4] Rule of St. Benedict, Prologue.

[5] Rule of St. Benedict, Prologue.

[6] From the hymn Cæli Deus sanctíssime, from Vespers on Wednesday. Cf. Gen. 1:14-19.

[7] St. Severinus Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy, 1.5.

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