Baroque Portraits, Still Lifes, and Landscapes

An Illustration of How Sacred Art Can Inform Profane Art

The Baroque period of the 17th century saw the flourishing of a whole new Christian culture. Beginning in Italy and closely associated with the liturgy as part of the Catholic Counter-Reformation, it gave rise to a flourishing of art, architecture, and music, both religious and secular, across much of Europe, in Catholic and Protestant countries alike. I contend that beauty drove this cultural spread. These works of art spoke powerfully and irresistibly to the people of their age, and patrons and buyers decided they wanted art like this in their homes and churches. We can look at one part of this cultural movement, painting, as an example of what happened more broadly. The portraiture, still-lifes, and landscapes of the period reflected the stylistic elements of Baroque sacred art described in the previous chapter, adapted and developed for each genre.

Portraiture 

Here is a portrait Anthony Van Dyck painted when he was just 21, around 1620, while still working in the studio of his master Rubens.

In this painting, the contrast of light and dark is present, as is the variation of focus and the muted color palette. However, one key difference from the sacred art described in the previous chapter arises from the nature of the subject. This is a portrait, not a painting of a saint. A portrait, unlike sacred art, seeks to represent a likeness of the person, strongly emphasizing his uniqueness. Sacred art, as we have discussed, seeks instead to emphasize what is common to all humanity, so that we can emulate it. We discern what is unique about a person primarily from facial features, especially the eyes. It is through the eyes that we most readily perceive an inner life; we notice the dampness of the eyeballs, the tensions in the muscles that control the eyebrows, the angle of the lids, and so on. There is truth in the traditional proverb that the eyes are the windows to the soul. After the eyes, we look to the mouth, and then to gesture, especially the gesture of the hands.

The sacred artist working in a naturalistic mode will rely more on gesture to communicate mood. The portrait artist, by contrast, seeks to illuminate the mood and unique qualities of the person’s soul through a strong focus on the face, and particularly the eyes.

Still Life

Still lifes, like portraits, were painted by both Catholic and Protestant artists during this period. The example shown here is by the French artist Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin, who worked in the 18th century. His Still Life with Peaches, a Silver Goblet, Grapes, and Walnuts exemplifies the characteristic Baroque approach. We see the variation in focus, coloration, and tone in accordance with the principles described in the previous chapter.

Landscape

Landscapes are more difficult to paint in the Baroque style than portraits or still lifes, for several reasons. First, a landscape is a more complex composition. There will very likely be trees, animals, people, and buildings all working together in harmony to create a unified impression. At the very least, there will be several principal foci rather than one.

In this context, the foci are the elements that draw our attention most strongly when we look at a scene. Unless we have reason to do otherwise, we tend to look at people first and to linger on them longest, then at the works of human hands such as a farmhouse or a cart, and then at animals and plants. In this respect, our natural interest tends to follow the hierarchy of being.

The best landscapes respect this hierarchy and tend to present all aspects of creation in harmonious relation with one another, typically placing the human figure in the principal focus. The artist’s goal in a landscape is to present the whole as beautiful while emphasizing the properly ordered relationships between things. Sometimes the artist will wish to make something other than a human being the center of interest, as when a herd of cows in a meadow becomes the principal subject. Even then, a cowherd who watches from the sidelines ought to be placed in the composition in a way that acknowledges the superiority of the human being in relation to the animals, even while the animals command the primary interest. This balance is not easy to strike.

This attention to hierarchy matters in all genres of painting, not only in landscape. When the proper ordering of relationships is represented in visible things, it develops in us the capacity to look beyond the visible and to seek the ultimate being to whom all things point by their very existence, which is God. When everything in a painting is treated with equal interest, or worse, equal disinterest, it not only misrepresents reality but makes that leap of faith toward heavenly things, which should be the goal of every Christian artist, harder for the viewer to take. A successful landscape therefore requires the artist to portray a complex web of relationships between many creatures, presenting each so that it plays its part in the whole without overloading the eye with equal detail throughout.

When Rubens painted his landscapes, he adopted the standard Baroque template, rendering large portions of them in deep shadow or in sepia tones drained of color. It is apparent that what worked so powerfully in sacred art did not transfer to landscape in quite the same way. To me, his landscapes always look as though they are observed from a vantage point deep inside a dark forest.

Peter Paul Rubens, Landscape with a Rainbow.

There is also the extraordinary technical difficulty of painting trees and foliage. To represent even a single tree, an artist must summarize form; he cannot possibly render every leaf and every detail. At the same time, he must indicate sufficient detail; otherwise, the result will look like a smooth green sponge on a pole. If, on the other hand, he supplies too much detail by attempting to represent many individual leaves, he risks producing the effect of a green feather duster. The Rubens above also displays this fault, which might be called feather-duster syndrome.

Clouds and open sea are more tractable by comparison. Consequently, some of the most successful landscapes of the 17th century are in fact seascapes. This one was painted by Willem van de Velde the Younger, who lived from 1633 to 1707.

How the Technical Difficulties Were Overcome

While the sacred art of the Academy, the name given to the state-sponsored art school in Paris that came to dominate the style of art across Western Europe, declined during the 17th century, the quality of secular painting continued to develop. Artists steadily worked out how to overcome the technical difficulties of representing natural subjects in oil.

One development was to move beyond gray and sepia as the sole basis for tonal work. While still using selective tonal rendering, artists began incorporating colors closer to those of nature, such as gray-green for foliage. This allowed compositions to escape the deep shadow that characterized Rubens's landscapes.

To tackle the foliage problem, artists worked out how to select certain areas for detailed rendering, knowing the observer’s eye would read the whole as uniformly detailed. The approach was to identify where the eye naturally falls in a given composition, then to offer more color and detail in those areas while leaving adjacent areas more summary. A similar technique was applied to the representation of cloth in portraiture. To distinguish velvet from satin, for example, one would select one area, typically where light and shadow meet, for a detailed rendering of texture and color. The rest of the same fabric would be handled with less color and less detail, but in such a way that the balance prompts the eye to perceive the whole as fully realized. Vermeer, working in the 17th century, provides a striking example of this method in the rendering of the carpet in the following painting.

Johannes Vermeer, The Concert, c. 1663–66.

Notice how the coloration and detail vary markedly across the carpet. Some areas in the light are predominantly orange ochre; some areas in shadow are predominantly dark blue; a third portion is painted in a combination of royal blue and brick red with a detailed rendering of the carpet’s design and texture. Until we deliberately examine each section in isolation, the overall impression is not of a patchy surface but of an integrated, fully realized carpet.

Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot (1796–1875) was perhaps the first painter to fully master this approach in outdoor landscape. The painting below, Ville d’Avray, was painted around 1867.

Notice how Corot establishes an underlying form, a broad shape for each element, so that we read the whole: a silver-green haze for the willow trees, blue-green foliage in the distance, richer green for the grasses in the foreground. Over this foundation, he has selectively placed light, brightly colored strokes of leaves and flowers catching the light. The closer the elements are to the viewer, the more detail they receive.

Why Secular Art Survived While Sacred Art Declined

It is worth asking why secular painting continued to develop and improve during a period when sacred art was in decline. One reason, I suggest, is that regardless of an artist’s worldview or religion, if his intention in painting a landscape is to capture its beauty, that intention is consistent with a Christian understanding of the natural world. This is why even landscapes painted by artists with no Christian commitment, such as Chinese Daoist painters, may be considered compatible with the Christian understanding of how a landscape ought to be painted.

Practical pressures also come into play. People will not buy landscapes unless they find them beautiful, so the artist who wants to sell his work had better make them beautiful. Similarly, those who commission portraits want a likeness that shows the subject in the best light, as those who love them might see them. These commercial incentives have kept a tradition of representational skill alive in portraiture and landscape even through periods when institutional taste moved in other directions.

This is why, even in the last 100 years, painters working in representational traditions have continued to find patrons. The Italian portrait painter Pietro Annigoni, who famously painted Elizabeth II as a young woman, is one example. Andrew Wyeth in America and William Heaton Cooper in the British watercolor landscape tradition are others. It is worth noting that Wyeth and Heaton Cooper both came from artistic families and had their fathers’ example to guide their formation.

The Lesson for Today

The lesson we can draw from the story of the Baroque tradition is this: when we have an authentic liturgical renewal accompanied by art forms genuinely connected to it, we can hope to see a transformation of the wider culture, just as the Baroque transformed the culture of its own day. We cannot know in advance what the next such renewal will look like, if it comes. But if it does succeed, it will be its beauty, and not the approval of art critics or university lecturers (this one included), that wins the world over.

A Sequence for the Dedication of a Church, by Adam of St Victor

Today is the feast of the dedication of the cathedral of Rome, formally known the Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior, but often referred to by the nick-name St John in the Lateran. This dedication is celebrated by all dioceses and churches of the Roman Rite, in addition to their own local dedications, so here is a sequence for such feasts by one of the great masters of the genre, Adam of St Victor, who flourished in the first part of the 12th century. After serving as precentor of Notre-Dame de Paris, he entered the abbey of Augustinian Canons Regular dedicated to St Victor in Paris’ Rive Gauche, very close to the Sorbonne. This abbey was one of the major intellectual centers of the High Middle Ages, and literary works produced by its members were swiftly diffused throughout Europe.

Four years ago, I addressed the persistent misunderstanding that the liturgical reform of St Pius V removed the great majority of sequences from the Mass. The reality is that the Roman Missal had always had very few sequences, and as various churches and orders adopted it, they adopted its sparse repertoire of them along with it. The diocese of Paris, however, kept its own Missal, and traditionally used this sequence, but in the Neo-Gallican reform, it was shortened by the removal of several stanzas, while some others were rewritten. The reformed version is the one sung in the recording given below. The English translation is taken from The Liturgical Poetry of Adam of St Victor (vol. 1), by Digby Wrangham of St John’s College, Oxford. (Kegan Paul, Trench & Co., London, 1881.)

A page from a Missal according to the Use of Paris, written in the first quarter of the 14th century. The intonations of three different sequences (usually called “proses” in French liturgical books) are given in the lower part of the left column; the first, Rex Salomon fecit templum, is also by Adam of St Victor. At the time this Missal was produced, the Sequence might vary according to the choice of the choirmaster. Later editions of the Parisian Missal will specify that either Rex Salomon or Jerusalem et Sion be sung on the feast, and the others during the days within the octave of the dedication. 

Jerusalem et Sion filiae, Coetus omnis fidelis curiae, Melos pangas jugis laetitiae,    Alleluia Christus enim desponsat hodie Matrem nostram, norma justitiae, Quam de lacu traxit miseriae,    Ecclesiam.	Jerusalem and Sion’s daughters fair! And all the faithful crowd that worship there! / That ceaseless strain of tuneful joy prepare, / “Alleluia!” For Christ, Who doth all righteousness display, / to our Mother-Church espoused to-day, / That Church, whom He in love hath drawn away / From depths of woe.
In Spiritus Sancti clementia, Sponsa sponsi laetatur gratia: A reginis, laudum cum gloria,    Felix dicta. Dos ut datur, crescit laetitia: Quæ dos! quanta! triplex potentia, Tangens coelum, terram et stygia    Judicia.	Through the blest Spirit’s mercy from above / The Bride rejoices in the Bride- groom’s love. / Earth’s queens with glorious praises doth she move    To call her blest, Mid greater joy still is her dowry given: What! and how great! that threefold power, which heaven, / And earth below, and the dread judgments even    Of hell affects.
Mira loquar, sed sanum credere: Foederatam tarn largo munere, De proprio produxit latere    Deus-Homo. Formaretur ut sic Ecclesia Figuravit in pari gloria Adae costis formata femina,    Hostis Eva.	Belief is wise, though strange my tale: that bride, / by gifts of such vast magni- tude allied / to Him, was taken out of His own side / By the God-Man:  That thus the Church should form and shape receive / equal glory, we a type believe / was woman, formed—source of our sorrow, Eve! /  From Adam’s rib.
Eva fuit noverca posteris: Haec est mater electi generis, Vitae portus, asylum miseris    Et tutela. Pulchra, potens, partu mirabilis, Ut luna, sol, fulget spectabilis, Plus acie multo terribilis    Ordinata.	Eve a stepmother hath been to her seed; the Church to her elect a Mother indeed, Life’s haven, an asylum in their need,    And sure defense, She, beautiful and great, in birth divine, fair as the moon, clear as the sun doth shine / more terrible than armies’ serried line / With banners dight.
Multiplex est, singularis, una, Generalis et individua Omnis aevi, sexus, simul una    Parit turmas. Haec signata Jordanis fluctibus; Haec quae venit a terrae finibus, Scientiam audire cominus    Salomonis.	Multifold is she, yet but one alone has all together, and each singly, known of every age and sex, yet only one;    Troops she brings forth. Jordan! thy waves a type of her appear, and she, that from the ends of earth drew near, / that, face to face, she might the wisdom hear / Of Solomon.
Haec typicis descripta sensibus, Nuptiarum induta vestibus, Caeli praeest hodie civibus    Christo juncta. O solemnis festum laetitiae Quo unitur Christus Ecclesiae, In quo nostrae salutis nuptiae    Celebrantur	She, whom these types, when understood, portray, / Robed for her marriage-feast in bright array, / presides o’er all the hea- venly host to-day, / The bride of Christ. O holy joy’s bright feast-day in the skies, Which joins the Church with Christ in marriage-ties! / That marriage-day, whose rite mankind allies /    With saving health.
Coetus felix, dulce convivium, Lapsis ubi datur solatium, Desperatis offertur spatium    Respirandi! Justis inde solvuntur praemia, Angelorum novantur gaudia, Laeta nimis quod facit gratia    Charitatis.	O happy gathering! O sweet feast of heaven! / When consolation to the lapsed is given, / And to the sinner, to despair now driven, / A breathing-space! Here their rewards are to the righteous paid, / And angels’ joys, renewed again, displayed / Feast, by the grace of charity thus made / Too full of joy.
Ab aeterno fons sapientiae, Intuitu solius gratiae, Sic praevidit in rerum serie Haec futura. Christus ergo nos suis nuptiis, Recreatos veris deliciis, Interesse faciat gaudiis    Electorum! Amen	The fount of wisdom from the first hath known, / through the clear insight given by grace alone, / As the due course of things hath onward gone, / What is to be. Therefore may Christ, by these His marriage-rites, / take us, refreshed there- by with true delights, / partake those joys to which His love invites     All His elect! Amen.

Music for First Vespers of the Dedication of a Church

In the Benedictine Divine Office, there is normally a short responsory after the chapter of both Vespers and Lauds, just like those found at the minor Hours in the Roman Office. At First Vespers of major feasts, this may be replaced with one of the long responsories from Matins; this is not obligatory, however, which is why these responsories are included in an appendix in the monastic antiphonal, but not noted in the breviary. For the feast of the dedication of a church, the responsory is the second from Matins, Fundata est. This recording of it by the Latvian ensemble Schola Cantorum Riga makes excellent use of a drone with the Gregorian music.

℟. The house of the Lord house is established upon the top of the mountains, and exalted above the hills, * and all nations shall some to it, and say, ‘Glory be to thee, O Lord!’ ℣. And surely they shall come with rejoicing, bringing their sheaves. And all nations... Glory be... And all nations...

The standard hymn for both Vespers of a dedication feast, Urbs Jerusalem beata, is the work of an unknown author of the Carolingian era, the later 8th century or first part of the 9th, when such feasts first began to be kept. It is traditionally split into two parts, with the second (beginning with the strophe Angularis fundamentum) sung at Lauds. Both parts were drastically changed in Urban VIII’s revision of the hymns, and very much for the worse; the post-Conciliar Liturgy of the Hours has restored the original version, with almost none of the typical cack-handed emendations.

The hymn Urbs Jerusalem Beata in the first edition of the breviary of St Pius V; the typographer incorrectly placed the red letters marking the beginning of a new strophe after each 4 verses (as is typical of the great majority of hymns), rather than after every 6 as the meter of this specific hymn requires.

The translation by the great John Mason Neale.

A setting in alternating Gregorian and polyphony by the Franco-Flemish composer Guillaume Dufay (1397-1474).

The antiphon for the Magnificat: Sanctificávit Dóminus tabernáculum suum, quia haec est domus Dei, in qua invocábitur nomen ejus, de quo scriptum est: Et erit nomen meum ibi, dicit Dóminus. (The Lord hath sanctified His tabernacle; for this is the house of God, wherein His Name shall be invoke, of which it is written, And my Name shall be there, saith the Lord.)

This year, at First Vespers of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, a commemoration is made of the Fifth Sunday after Epiphany (resumed), with this antiphon taken from the Sunday Gospel, Matthew 13, 24-30, is also in mode 1g, and quite similar to the one that precedes it. (This video cannot be played on a site on which it is embedded; click to open it on YouTube in a separate tab.)

Aña Collígite primum zizania, et alligáte ea in fascículos ad comburendum: tríticum autem congregáte in hórreum meum, dicit Dóminus. (Gather ye together first the tares, and bind them into bundles to burn; but gather the wheat into my barn, saith the Lord.)

Finally, we take leave of the feast of All Saints with a commemoration of Second Vespers of the octave day.

Aña O quam gloriósum est regnum in quo cum Christo gaudent omnes Sancti, amicti stolis albis sequuntur Agnum quocumque íerit! (O how glorious is the kingdom in which all the Saints rejoice with Christ; clothed in white robes, they follow the Lamb wherever he goeth!)

The Octave of All Saints 2026: The Confessors

From the Breviary according to the use of the Roman Curia, 1529, the conclusion of the sermon for the third day in the Octave of All Saints.

After the most unconquered witnesses of Christ follows the venerable chosen company of pontiffs and priests, and the blessed perfection of the most holy confessors, illuminated by the light of truth, and resolute in the confession of the apostolic faith. They pleased the one God, because they showed forth the faith of the holy Trinity in the perfection of their works. Although they did not pass from the light of this world by the sword or any other sort of torment, they were taught in the school of the virtues under the discipline of the Gospel, and by the wonderful patience of the Cross; they fought against the beasts of heretical depravity with the sword of the spirit (which is the word of God) and so nevertheless merited the glory of martyrdom. And although some of the holy confessors never attained the dignity of the priesthood, they were yet in no wise inferior in holiness and justice, in the virtues and the examples of their lives. These then are the men who while they were clothed in the garment of mortal flesh, could say in the spirit of truth with Paul, “our conversation is in heaven.”

The Charity of St Martin, by Jacob van Oost the Elder (1603-71); now in the Groeinge Museum in the painter’s native city of Bruges in Belgium. Martin was one of the very first Confessors to be venerated as a Saint.

A reading from the Epistle of Blessed Paul the Apostle to the Hebrews. (Chapter 11, 33-39, the epistle of the feast of the Four Crowned Martyrs, who share their feast day with the Octave of All Saints.)

The Saints by faith conquered kingdoms, wrought justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, recovered strength from weakness, became valiant in battle, put to flight the armies of foreigners: women received their dead raised to life again. But others were racked, not accepting deliverance, that they might find a better resurrection. And others had trial of mockeries and stripes, moreover also of bands and prisons. They were stoned, they were cut asunder, they were tempted, they were put to death by the sword, they wandered about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being in want, distressed, afflicted: Of whom the world was not worthy; wandering in deserts, in mountains, and in dens, and in caves of the earth. And all these being approved by the testimony of faith, in Christ Jesus, our Lord.

The tabernacle of the Four Crowned Martyrs, on the outside of the Orsanmichele in Florence; commissioned from the sculptor Nanni di Banco by the guild of wood- and stone cutters, 1408. Notice the clever image of two sculptors making a statue on the right side of the lower panel.

The Feast of All Saints 2026: The Martyrs

From the Breviary according to the use of the Roman Curia, 1529, the continuation of the sermon for the third day in the Octave of All Saints.

After the aforementioned princes of the Church and standard bearers of her spiritual combat comes most readily the troop of the most elite soldiers, that is, the triumphant army of the holy martyrs, patient in their suffering, clothed in white in the contest of their passion, crowned with their precious blood. The ancient dragon, like a most fierce and roaring lion, found a new device for his deceptions; for he that once ordered men to worship the just as gods (as is read concerning the body of Moses), afterwards attacked those who worshipped the true God become man, the Lord Jesus Christ, with due honor. But because the holy martyrs fought manfully for the faith in the stadium of war, they were given a happy reward, and rightly crowned with glory and honor.

The central panel of an altarpiece dedicated to the Virgin Martyr St Margaret of Antioch, made in either Hamburg or Lüneburg, German, ca. 1520 now in the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. Her legend says that she was swallowed by a dragon (seen here at her feet, and also in the lower panel immediately to the right of her), and destroyed it by bursting out of its side; this of course represents her spiritual triumph over the forces of darkness.

“As is read concerning the body of Moses.” These words refer to an episode in a Jewish apocryphal work, the Assumption of Moses, which is mentioned by St Jude in his Catholic Epistle (verse 9): “When Michael the Archangel, disputing with the devil, contended about the body of Moses, he durst not bring against him the judgment of railing speech, but said, ‘The Lord command thee.’ ” (The last words of this verse are quoted in Pope Leo XIII’s famous prayer to St Michael.) The Assumption of Moses is only partially preserved, and the episode in question is not in the part that survives, but ancient scholars such as Origen, who had the complete text to hand, claim it as the work cited by St Jude. The anonymous author of our sermon refers to a tradition going back to Tertullian that idolatry was taught to mankind by the devil, and here claims that in the story cited by St Jude, the devil’s purpose in trying to get the body of Moses was to have the Jews worship it as an idol.

The Dispute between St. Michael and the Devil over the Body of Moses, by Matteo da Lecce, ca. 1575. This painting is on the back wall of the Sistine Chapel, and for reasons which should be obvious, has been entirely overshadowed by the rather more impressive works of Michelangelo on the ceiling above.

Durandus on Prayer for the Dead (Part 2)

The following is taken from the entry on All Souls’ Day in William Durandus’ Rationale Divinorum Officiorum (7.35), the Summa Theologiae of medieval liturgical commentaries. This is one of the longest sections of the seventh book, which covers the Sanctoral cycle, and will be presented in several parts in this month especially dedicated to prayer for the dead. Click here to read part 1.

On a (major) feast day, an anniversary Requiem ought not to be celebrated, nor should a Mass for the dead be said unless the body is present. But in every season the Mass for the dead can be celebrated if the cadaver is present, except on Good Friday, since on that day the body ought not to be buried, but rather reserved for the next day. And then on Saturday the Mass can be sung for it, and the body buried. Likewise, if anyone should die on Easter, let his body be laid aside for the next day, and then be buried with the celebration of the Mass, for a body ought not to be buried without a Mass, although the contrary is done in very many places.

And although according to the Council of Chalon, prayer and sacrifice should be offered for the dead daily, on the aforementioned days (the third, seventh and thirtieth after burial, and on the anniversary), this is done especially by the friends (of the deceased). Indeed, some people generally pray for the dead at the evening and morning Office in all seasons, excepting only feast days; others celebrate Mass for them daily, others at the beginning of each month sing nine psalms, nine readings and nine responsories (i.e. the Office of the dead with three nocturns at Matins), and indeed, it is a holy thought and profitable to salvation to pray for the dead, that they may be released from sin. (2 Macc. 12, 46; from the Epistle for the anniversary Requiem.)

In some places the Office of the dead is not said in church from Holy Thursday until the octave of Pentecost, since they say that all the offices of that time ought to be brief, and also not on Sundays. And the story is told that a certain abbot prohibited his monks from celebrating for the dead on Sundays, but because of this, the dead themselves afflicted him with harsh beatings, and therefore he revoked this prohibition.

Note also that the prayers which are offered in the churches for the dead who are very good are acts of thanksgiving; for those souls which are perfectly good, as soon as they go out of their bodies, fly to the heavens and have no need of our assistance. For the moderately good, expiations are made, or mitigations of their pains, since they enter purgatory, because while they were alive, they did not complete the penance enjoined upon them, by means of which the alms, prayers, fasts and sacrifices which are done for them benefit them. … as for the very evil, prayers are rather consolations of the living, for the help we proffer does them no good, since their souls immediately go down to hell.

Also note this, that according to Jerome, when a psalm or Mass is said for all souls, it is received no less than if it were said for each one of them … but if they are said for a specific intention, they benefit those for whom they are especially made, rather than others. If they are done in general or in common, they benefit rather those who had greater merit in this life… For according to Augustine *, although they do not benefit all those for whom they are done, nevertheless, because we do not know whom they benefit and whom they do not, they ought to be done for all, so that no one may be left out. For it is better that they be superfluous to those they neither harm nor benefit, and that they should be lacking to those whom they benefit, and therefore the anniversary day is celebrated, as is said above.

* De cura pro mortuis gerenda, chapter 18, a passage added to the Office of the Dead for All Souls by the breviary reform of St Pius X.

The Four Latin Doctors of the Church, 1632, by the Dutch painter Abraham Bloemaert (1564-1651). Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.

But can the prayers of him who because of mortal sin is not in charity benefit one who died in charity? I answer that sacramental works such as the Mass, the Office of the dead, the collection of alms, and the like, done by such a one, are very powerful, and do benefit the dead, both because they have their efficacy from God, and not from the one who does them, and because he does them not in his own name, but as the representative of all, which it to say, he acts in the name of the whole church…

For if we condemn the prayers of men whose conscience reproves them for sin, the dead will be helped by the prayers of few. Therefore, it seems we ought to say that the prayers of the man who is still in faith, even though he is not in charity, do not benefit the one who dies in charity from the merit of the life of the one who makes them. Nevertheless, because these prayers are made according to the teaching of the Church, through one who is in faith, and for one who has merited to receive such benefits, where the charity of the doer fails, the merit of faith supplies, as does the charity of the Church that commands him to make the prayer, and the capacity of the dead man who receives them, and also the generosity of the merciful God, who according to Ambrose does not revoke His benefits, but rather makes even greater His overflowing generosity, and in that generosity, considers a good work done by someone as if it were done by the one whom it benefits.

For even according to the laws (of man), if someone pays the debt of another, the debtor himself is set free … and according to Augustine, even though nothing is begotten from a stone trough, nevertheless, the water that passes through it makes the earth fertile. And Jerome says, “If perchance you see someone do things that are just, even in the midst of many sinful works, nevertheless God is not unjust, such that He should forget the few good things for the sake of the many evil ones.”

Dante and Vergil converse with the envious on the second ledge of Purgatory. Illustration by Priamo della Quercia, in a manuscript of the Divine Comedy produced in Siena in the mid-15th century, now known as the Yates Thompson Dante. Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.

The dead know of the prayers which are done for them in three ways according to Augustine: first, by divine revelation, when God reveals this to them; second, through the representation of good angels, for the angels who are always present here with us … can go down to them and announce them to them immediately; third, through what they learn from those souls that depart from the earth (i.e. the newly arrived in Purgatory); fourth, by experience, namely, when they feel that they are released from their pains.

It should be known that the dead who are very bad do not know what is done by the living, except insofar as it is permitted to them to know it. Likewise, neither do the moderately good know, those who are still in the fire of purgatory, and do not yet enjoy the vision of God, except insofar as it is permitted to them to know by one of the ways mentioned above. But the very good, who now enjoy the vision of God, know very well what is going on here on earth, according to what Gregory say, “What is there that they do not know, those who see the One who sees all things?” Nevertheless, others say that they know all the things which are necessary to them, but not other things…

As to whether the dead have any care for the living, Augustine treats of this extensively in his book On the care to be taken for the dead. Furthermore, as Augustine says, “Many believe that some of the dead appear to the living, either in dreams or in some other way”, and we find in Gregory’s Dialogues that they have often given indication where their bodies lay unburied, or urged that burial be arranged for them, and countless other things of this sort, and those things are true, and so it is found in a great many other authentic writings.

Nevertheless, as the same Augustine says in the aforementioned book, although the dead seem to indicate or ask such things in dreams, we ought not therefore to think that they know of these things. For the living also very often appear in dreams to those who are asleep, but do not know that they appear to them, … for which reason, we ought rather to believe that these are the workings of angels, done through God’s Providence for some form of consolation of the living. ….

The Feast of All Saints 2026: The Apostles

From the Breviary according to the use of the Roman Curia, 1529, the continuation of the sermon for the third day in the Octave of All Saints.

Thus far, we have mentioned the most holy fathers of the Old Testament, like the stars of night, who awaited the sun of justice, Christ the Savior. And at His coming, the darkness of ignorance and of prophecy unfulfilled was driven away, the night of sin began to shine with the light of truth, and in the knowledge of it, the errors of earlier times became like noon itself. But let us look upon the rays of this true sun, brethren, and consider what sort of guardians our fathers had when the time of the synagogue was coming to its end, and the Church was beginning: fishermen and princes, that is, the most holy Apostles and Evangelists, and other disciples of Christ. By their zeal and skill, the net of preaching drew a great multitude of the nations into the ship of the Church; and by their saving teaching, in wondrous manner the Church militant shines forth, and in her triumph, rejoices in their glorious merits.

The Calling of the Apostles, one of the panels from the reverse of the large altarpiece of the Cathedral of Siena known as the Maestà, by Duccio di Buoninsegna, 1308-11; now in the Cathedral Museum (Museo dell’ Opera Metropolitana del Duomo)

A New Edition of an Early Dominican Breviary

We are happy to share this news from Mr Alan Liang about a new edition of the breviary of Humbert of Romans, the form of the Dominican Divine Office as standardized in 1256. This comes from a manuscript now preserved at the church of Santa Sabina in Rome, where the generalate of the Order is located; this manuscript enshrines the prototype of the entire Dominican Use as it would be celebrated regularly until 1969. This edition does not contain any feasts added to the Order’s calendar since then (the number of which is very great indeed), nor the psalter as reformed by Pope St Pius X. Mr Liang has also produced an ordo, so the book can actually be used to pray the Office. 

For more information, and to order the books, see this post on his substack:

https://alanl399.substack.com/p/announcing-breviarium-predicatorum

and this one on a dedicated website:
https://breviariumpredicatorum.pages.dev/ 

There are many more sample pages, and images of the original codex, beneath the break.
 

Some sample pages of the book, which keeps the orthography and the use of colored letters found in the original manuscript.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

The Feast of All Saints 2026: The Patriarchs and Prophets

From the Breviary according to the use of the Roman Curia, 1529, the continuation of the sermon for the third day in the Octave of All Saints.

Having invited the orders of the heavenly army and accompanied them with due honors, let us hasten to recite the merits of those who, being of like origin with us, of the earth and upon it, through the grace of God and their own merit, much greater than our own, obtain blessedness in Heaven. Among those chosen by the divine goodness before the Law and under the Law stands the praiseworthy company of the holy Fathers, Patriarchs and Prophets. And the greatest among them all, John the Baptist, holds the first place, who was conceived at the message of the same angel as Christ. At the beginning of his preaching and baptism for the forgiveness of sins, he recognized Him that takes away the crimes of the world on sight, and with his own finger pointed him out. Rightly is he called the precursor of the Lord, the herald of the Judge, and prophet of the most High, since when not yet born, he preceded Christ into this world with wondrous exultation, and in his glorious passion went before Him as He descended into the next.

The Virgin and Child with Ss John the Baptist and Stephen, by Michelangelo Anselmi, ca. 1530

Display of Relics at Trinità dei Pellegrini for All Saints’ Day

Since today is the day on which the feast of the Holy Relics has most commonly been kept since St Pius X’s reform of the breviary and calendar, it’s a good day to show these pictures taken by a friend at the Fraternity of St Peter’s church in Rome, Santissima Trinità dei Pellegrini. For many years now, it has been the church’s custom to expose all its relics for the veneration of the faithful on All Saints’ day. In the evening, before Vespers, each reliquary is presented before the congregation, and the name of the Saint or Saints whose relics in it are read out.

The high altar decorated for Mass of the feast.

The busts seen here on the upper level were made in 1622 for the canonization of St Philip Neri, who founded the church’s confraternity. On the left side are two Saints of the era of the Fathers, Gregory the Great and Augustine, and on the right, two of the Counter-Reformation, Pope Pius V and Charles Borromeo; the two popes are placed closer to the cross. The silver busts on the lower level contain relics of Saints from the catacombs; to either side of each one are statues of Apostles, Peter and Paul, John and Matthew, the latter because he is the patron of the confraternity.

Many more reliquaries are placed on the altar of St Matthew in the right transept, with one of St Philip in a place of special prominence in the middle.  (The church has another very beautiful reliquary of him in bronze, which is, however, too heavy to easily lift when the relics are presented to the faithful.)

Over the altar are written the words of the Apostles’ Creed, “I believe in the Communion of the Saints”, because in the church’s original set up, this altar was intended to the used primarily for Masses for the Dead. 

At the back of the church on the left side is an altar dedicated to the Holy Cross. This altar is also for the celebration of Requiem Masses; since the FSSP took over the running of the church, it has been decorated with an image of Our Lady of Sorrows, and a set of wooden candlesticks painted black. For the exposition of relics, the church’s piece of the True Cross is set here by itself as a place of special honor.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

The Feast of All Saints 2026: The Angels

From the Breviary according to the use of the Roman Curia, 1529, the continuation of the sermon for the third day in the Octave of All Saints.

Accordingly, let us invite the most sacred orders of blessed spirits to the joy of our solemnity, that today they may work along with us more earnestly than usual, offering the incense of our prayer before the golden altar which stands before the eyes of the Lord. There let them faithfully intercede for us, and here (in this world) vigilantly protect and defend us against the attempts of the ancient enemy. For we urgently ask this of them by a certain right of law, and by that confidence in the privilege (given to us) by which we hope that through God’s grace, we shall be their fellow citizens in heaven. Firmly certain of their beatitude, they are sent as ministering spirits to us, who (rightly) fear the (spiritual) losses we may suffer in the uncleanness of our bodily condition. All the more generously then, must they come to our aid, as they see how much more we need their help.

From a manuscript of the Commentary on the Apocalypse by Beatus of Liébana, written and illustrated in 1047 for King Ferdinand I (ca. 1015-1065, crowned 1037) and Queen Sancha of León (ca. 1018-1067). This page illistrates the words of chapter 8, 2-4, “And I saw seven Angels standing in the presence of God; and there were given to them seven trumpets. And another Angel came, and stood before the altar, having a golden censer; and there was given to him much incense, that he should offer of the prayers of all Saints upon the golden altar, which is before the throne of God. And the smoke of the incense of the prayers of the Saints ascended up before God from the hand of the angel.” – (Biblioteca Nacional de España, VITR/14/2, folio 162v, cropped: CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)

Discovering the Delightful, Trenchant, Spiritually Profound Writings of Leonardo Castellani

A prolific author of about fifty books and a thousand articles, Leonardo Castellani (1899 – 1981) is widely revered as one of the greatest modern Argentine writers in multiple genres. Yet until now, English-speaking audiences have had almost no access to his remarkable body of work – a lacuna decisively changed by this new anthology, Christ and the Pharisees & Other Short Works, equipped with a substantial introduction by the translator, Sebastián Randle.

A student of Cardinal Billot’s, a pugilist for orthodoxy at a time of progressive disarray, and a faithful old-school Jesuit who fell afoul of his superiors and suffered years of marginalization, Castellani was at the same time unafraid to poke holes in conventional pieties, and complained about unhealthy trends in the Church years before the Vatican II debacle brought many latent weaknesses to light.

In many ways he can be (certainly nowadays) classified as a traditionalist, as these typical remarks show, from his 1954 essay “The Destruction of Tradition”:

It’s rather unpleasant to find oneself speaking like a prophet of misfortunes, knowing all the time that to act instead the part of a soothsayer proclaiming good tidings would always brings home the bacon; and anyway, I would always prefer, God willing, to be an incompetent prophet of doom. But the destruction of tradition in the Western world is glaringly obvious, and denying it is equivalent to closing your eyes while crossing a street. In any case, opening our eyes could be the cure, following the poet’s lines:

Prior to any other one,
the first of all medicines
is to identify the disease.

There is no rectilinear and uniform progress in the sense that the Marquis of Condorcet understood it – the myth and dogma of Indefinite Progress. But there is a certain type of progress or, to put it more precisely, something more like two parallel and yet invisible lines of progress. “Tell us, when shall these things be?” the disciples asked Jesus (Matt. 24, 3). We find the answer at the end of the Book of Revelation: “The time is at hand. He that is unjust, let him be unjust still: and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still: and he that is righteous, let him be righteous still: and he that is holy, let him be holy still. And, behold, I come quickly” (22, 10-12); that is to say, there’s a certain progress in humanity, but this must be properly understood. The progress of which I’m speaking happens in men’s inner selves – that “inner self” of which we have spoken so much; and consequently, good and evil imbue more and more the “inside” of men, and, because of that, they become more conscious and therefore more refined and concentrated. In this sense, Kierkegaard is more “interior” (or “inward wise”) than St. Augustine; and on the other hand, Sartre, for instance, is more of a pervert than the worse heathen authors: compared to Sartre, Petronius looks as innocent as a newborn babe. Humanity marches toward history’s dramatic denouement, a drama which includes one protagonist and plenty of hostile enemies.

Tradition is that ideal world of human values that we inherit when we are born, without deserving it . . . and for which we show ourselves pretty ungrateful. But not all that we inherit belongs to tradition. A son inherits from his father a house and, say, tuberculosis; the house is tradition – tuberculosis is not a tradition. It could be that tuberculosis runs in the family, but that sort of tradition must be interrupted as soon as possible. But nowadays, morally speaking, homesteads are being broken, and tuberculosis is being cultivated. [...]

What is tradition? To repeat, tradition is that ideal world of human values that we inherit when we are born, without deserving it – and for which we seem to be rather ungrateful too. For me, when I was born, tradition was represented by a firmly established family, some Italian grandparents with a mind full of European legends – my grandmother used to tell me about the Council of Trent in an entirely legendary form – full of tenacious customs and even one or two healthy obsessions (with the persistence that is a badge of never-changing tradition)...

We cannot create the civilization into which we’re born: but we can destroy it—in our very selves, for a start. Believe it or not, it would be easier for men to create the whole physical universe than to produce the moral and intellectual universe that makes up humanity’s vacillating heritage. Hard to believe, perhaps, but that’s how it is.

Above all, Fr. Castellani was a supremely observant reader of Scripture and one of its finest modern commentators, capable of breathtaking insights into familiar texts, especially the Book of Revelation. All these characteristics are on full display in this enlightening and entertaining little volume, an ideal introduction to the wide scope of Castellani’s genius.

Here’s a video in which I talk more about the book, and read two passages from it (different from the one above):

“In my life as a reader, I have savored many moments of wonder; but none as immense and enduring as the one provided by the Argentine Leonardo Castellani. A passionate polemicist, a relentless critic of modernity and all its ideological filth, Castellani is above all a champion of orthodoxy, which, as we already know, is the only form of heterodoxy that our age repudiates. Castellani reveals himself to be a consummate apologist and a formidable polemicist, endowed with a vibrant style and a sardonic humor in the tradition of Cervantes that allows him to tear down the thick walls of lies as if they were made of sculpted sugar. In all his works, Castellani displays intellectual depth and an admirable ability to stir in the mind a response of joyful acceptance (or of scathing rejection, if the mind is infested with politically correct nonsense). The fact is, our author was what the French call a maître à penser-someone who not only spurs our intellect but also nourishes it, fortifies it, provides it with a sturdy framework, and, at the same time, propels it down paths never before traveled. No wonder such a dangerous writer has been equally reviled by the godless, the snobs, and the self-righteous, both in life and in death.” – Juan Manuel de Prada

“Castellani was the man sent by Divine Providence to my homeland and to everyone who can access his legacy to shed light on the purpose of the Christian life: the Parousia. Castellani’s books are full of good humor, and this makes them very human, free of ethereal theological jargon. He knows how to laugh at the ridiculous. His work has no set progression; you can dive in from any angle, much like a Pampas-style barbecue.” – Daniel Francisco Giaquinta

“Castellani is undoubtedly a rich, multifaceted, and transcultural figure.” – Javier Navascué

Available from the publisher, Os Justi Press, in paperback, hardcover, or ebook (at this link you can also “look inside” to see a sample), or from any Amazon outlet.