The Asperges Ritual and the Mystery of Dwelling

Lost in Translation #88

So far, the purpose of the “Lost in Translation” series has been to examine the Propers of the Roman liturgy, especially the Orations, with the goal of unearthing shades of meaning that are usually not, and sometimes cannot be, translated into English. The Orations are particularly good candidates for such an examination, as they are veritable Roman haikus, a unique species of rhetoric that ingeniously combines tight structure, poetic rhythm, literary order, succinct imagery, and a panoply of human experience. The fruit of our inquiry can be found on this website and in my book on the subject.

We may still may return to the Roman Propers now and then, but with today’s installment we turn our attention to a consideration of the Latin used in the Ordinary of the Mass. While the Latin of the Orations is arguably more homogeneous (rules regarding structure and meter tend to be followed regardless of the century in which they were written), the Latin of the Ordo of the Mass is more diverse, betraying the influence of different centuries, different styles, and even different cultures. Our intention is not to offer an exhaustive line-by-line analysis of the Latin from the Ordo but to highlight some of its more interesting aspects.

We begin our examination with the Asperges ritual, which should take before the principal Sunday Mass in all cathedrals and collegiate churches; prior to Vatican II, the English bishops ordered all parish churches to do the same, even if the principal Mass was a Low Mass. [1] The ceremony reconnects us to our baptismal vows, but it also has the quality of an exorcism, driving out the unclean in order to prepare the way for the Holy Sacrifice. And it is further tied to the Sacrifice by metaphor: hyssop, which is mentioned in the antiphon, was the plant used to sprinkle the blood of the Passover lamb on the doorposts and lintel of the house. (Exodus 12, 22)

The Asperges’ relation to baptism explains why it is only allowed on a Sunday. The “Eighth Day” (Sunday, the day of the Resurrection) is tied to the sacrament of baptism mystically (hence the popularity of octagonal baptismal fonts), and the first sacramental baptisms explicitly mentioned in Scripture are of Saint Peter baptizing 3,000 souls on the first Pentecost Sunday. (see Acts 2, 41)

The Asperges’ relation to exorcism, on the other hand, may explain why it is allowed only once on a Sunday, since once the place (specifically, the altar) has been exorcized it need not be again--at least not until the following Sunday.

And the Asperges’ relation to sacrifice may explain why the priest who performs the Asperges ritual must be the celebrant of the Mass that follows it. Even though the Asperges is not part of the Mass proper (which is why the priest wears a cope and not a chasuble, which is worn only for the Eucharistic sacrifice), it is nevertheless ties to the Mass, and the priest who is in persona Christi during the Mass also represents Christ in distributing the graces of His Precious Blood.

Outside the liturgy, the Asperges is traditionally used every time a priest brings Holy Communion to a sick person or when administering Extreme Unction.

This beautiful sprinkling rite ends with the following oration:

Exaudi nos, Dómine sancte, Pater omnípotens, æterne Deus, et míttere dignéris sanctum Angelum tuum de caelis, qui custodiat, fóveat, prótegat, vísitet, atque defendat omnes habitantes in hoc habitáculo. Per Christum Dóminum nostrum.

Which I translate as:

Hear us, O Lord, holy Father, almighty and eternal God: and vouchsafe to send Thy holy Angel from Heaven to guard, cherish, protect, visit, and defend all who are dwelling in this dwelling. Through Christ our Lord.

The prayer, to my mind, has two puzzles.

First, who is God’s holy Angel? Some, such as Abbé Claude Barthe in his recent book A Forest of Symbols, claim that it is “Christ Himself, who is asked to come down to this place.” [2] His hypothesis aligns with the speculation that the Angel who is asked to carry the consecrated offerings up to God’s heavenly altar is also the Son of God, and not a celestial spirit (see the Supplices te rogamus in the Canon). This interpretation draws from the fact that “Angel” (angelos) means “messenger” in Greek, and Jesus Christ is certainly the Messenger of God (angelos Theou), as St. Paul calls Him in Galatians 4, 14. On the other hand, there is nothing wrong with wanting an Angel to come down and do some purifying in preparation for the sacramental arrival of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist, just as there is nothing wrong in believing that an Angel carries our sacrifice to God during the Canon, as some artists have imagined.

The second puzzle arises from the line omnes habitantes in hoc habitaculo, and it is twofold. Most translations use “house” for habitaculum, and that is indeed a valid way to translate the word. I offer the clumsier translation “all who are dwelling in this dwelling” to draw attention to the redundant use of habito in the words habitantes and habitaculum. The twofold puzzle is this: why does the Church refer to this place of worship as a “dwelling-place” rather than use a more religious term such as “church” (ecclesia), “temple” (templum, aedes), or even “tabernacle” (tabernaculum), as she does elsewhere in her liturgical prayers? For that matter, if the Oration is alluding to the church as the House of God (Ps. 26, 4) or a House of Prayer, (Matt. 21, 13) then why does it not use the Latin word domus, as does the Vulgate in both these cases?

Second, why does the prayer ask for a blessing on those who dwell therein, which presumably means us? For although we may long to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of our life (see Ps. 26, 4), and although monks and nuns spends several hours a day in church, the fact remains that believers typically visit church rather than dwell in them.

The partial answer to these questions is to remember that this Oration figures prominently in the Rituale Romanum, where it is used in the blessing of homes both in Paschaltide and outside it, in the blessing of a new seminary, and in the more solemn blessing of a school. And, of course, it is used in the two sick calls mentioned above. Presumably, then, the prayer was not written with a consecrated church in mind.

But this answer is not fully satisfying, for it suggests that those who placed the Asperges ritual before the celebration of Sunday Mass were simply too lazy to come up with a more appropriate prayer.

I therefore suggest meditating further on the word habitaculum, dwelling-place. A habitaculum can be any structure or even no even structure, for you can truly dwell in a land without so much as a thin layer of tent or tepee separating you from the wide and starry sky. Moreover, the first dwelling-place of Jesus Christ was the womb of His Mother. The Collect for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary declares that God the Father made Mary’s womb a “worthy dwelling-place” (dignum habitaculum) for His Son. But if the Virgin’s womb is Her Son's habitaculum, it is also the habitaculum of those who are members of His mystical Body.

With these considerations in mind, a generic prayer that can be used for blessing all kinds of buildings becomes a prayer that asks God to bless us who are members of Him who dwelt in His mother’s womb and who are currently dwelling in--or at least near--the womb of the church, that is, the sanctuary, where, like the Virgin’s womb, the Word becomes flesh and dwells among us. As such, the Oration nods to an imminent Incarnation, the fructification of the elements of bread and wine through the inbreathing of the priest's words of consecration through the overshadowing power of the Holy Spirit. And this link between altar/womb, Jesus Christ, and His members is underscored by the sprinkling rite, which blesses only three things: the altar, the clergy, and the people.

The Oration in this prologue to the Mass is also a suitable counterpart to the epilogue of the Mass. The Last Gospel in itself is a meditation on dwelling or the lack thereof: the verse “He came into His own and own received Him not” recalls another: “The foxes have holes and the birds of the air nests, but the Son of Man hath nowhere to lay His head.” (Matt. 8, 20)  And yet despite the world’s rejection of Him, the Last Gospel proclaims, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us”--or to translate the Greek in a slavishly literal fashion, He “pitched His tent among us.” And when we hear the news of this dwelling announced, we imitate the motion of the Supernal Son descending to kiss the earth with His Incarnate presence by touching our knees to the ground.

In Holy Communion, we make within the marrow of our being a dwelling for Our Lord who on earth found nowhere to lay His head. In the Asperges ritual, after we are sprinkled with the sacramental reminder of our baptism, we pray to be made worthy dwelling-places of the God-Man in imitation of she who bore Him first.

Notes

[1] Rev. Adrian Fortescue, Ceremonies of the Roman Rite (Newman Press, 1962), 98.

[2] Abbé Claude Barthe, A Forest of Symbols: The Traditional Mass and Its Meaning, trans. David J. Critchley (Angelico Press, 2023), 36.

Asperges Syndrome

I have a question for any horticulturalists out there. Here are some photographs of my little courtyard garden and attempted creation of an outside icon corner. It's just a year old, and beginning to take shape. It started as a plain, concrete floored, enclosed space.

At a plant sale put on by the local gardening society, I bought this hyssop plant and it has started to bloom with pretty purple flowers. I don't know if this is the same as the ancient middle-Eastern, biblical hyssop? It does have a bitter-herb taste, a little bit like rosemary or thyme - I'm told it's in the marjoram family - and I can imagine this growing in rock crevices in a dry Mediterranean climate!

My question is this. Why would it be chosen for sprinkling and how would one cleanse with it? As well as the opening line of the translation of the Asperges from the Mass, there are numerous references to its use for purging and cleansing. Is it supposed to have medicinal qualities if eaten for example, or does it give an aromatic quality to water if used as a sprinkler? Here is a closeup of the fronds and flowers.

I'm curious. I could probably use a good purging from time to time, and what was good for my namesake, King David, is probably good for me! But I'm not sure what to do even if I wanted to. 

Things That Remit Venial Sins — The Traditional Liturgy Is Full of Them

We are approaching the great penitential season of Lent. If we live the season as we ought, we will invariably think a good deal about sin — how we can avoid it, repent of it, get it forgiven, root it out of our lives, and pay the temporal penalty for it.

As the great spiritual masters remind us, mortal sin rarely arises suddenly, with no habitual dispositions favoring it. True, our disordered concupiscence can indeed catch us by surprise and we fall into grave sin without an obvious path to it, but most of the time, the way to mortal sin is paved with lots of venial sins, which make us accustomed to a little bit of this or that bad behavior, weaken our resistance, lead us astray. If one tells a lot of small lies, one is greasing the axle for the big lies. If one eats and drinks a little too much again and again, one is laying a foundation for gluttony. And so on, with all the deadly sins. It’s spiritual common sense.

This being so, it seems a sort of enlightened self-love (so to speak) that we should strive to discover how best to avoid venial sins; how best to rid ourselves of them and their bad effects; if habituated to them, how to break the habit.

Fortunately, Holy Mother Church in her age-old treasure chest has gathered for us many means by which our venial sins can be remitted and prevented, and our charity enkindled. Some of these means were tossed aside after the Council, when even the basic elements of the doctrine of sin and grace were being called into question. Happily, such practices are still cherished in traditional enclaves, and their frequent and consistent use is one among many reasons to prefer such enclaves. It goes without saying that these practices ought to be taken up everywhere, whether in connection with the traditional Latin Mass or not, but there is no question that their use is easier to revive or continue in the setting of the TLM.

The Angelic Doctor observes:

[T]here are many remedies against venial sins; for example, beating of the breast, sprinkling with holy water, extreme unction, and every sacramental anointing; a bishop’s blessing, blessed bread, general confession, compassion, the forgiveness of another’s faults, the Eucharist, the Lord’s Prayer, and other sorts of light penance.[1]

This is a very interesting list of examples, and prompts a number of thoughts.

1. The beating of the breast (tunsio pectoris) is the first example that comes to St. Thomas’s mind. That’s not to say it’s the most important, but there is something rather obvious about it as a sign of repentance. Thomas is reminding us here that, done with devotion, the beating of the breast actually remits or prevents venial sins. As I noted here, a Catholic attending the TLM will beat his or her breast as many as 15 times during the liturgy.[2]

2. When we read of the "sprinkling with holy water" (aspersio aquae benedictate), the importance of the Asperges comes to mind immediately (or the Vidi aquam in Paschaltide). Why did this ritual ever pass out of use? In any case, TLM communities should be aspiring to a Sunday High Mass preceded by the Asperges. It is a beautiful blessing, a reminder of our baptism, and a perfect preparation for the sacrifice of the Mass — a symbolic bath before the banquet, one might say. Everyone washes (or should wash) before partaking of a meal, and our approach to the passover Lamb should be no different spiritually.[3]

3. Extreme unction, sometimes called anointing of the sick, obviously remits venial sins, because it remits repented mortal sins as well, and, to invoke a scholastic axiom, that which can do the greater can do the lesser. The "sacramental anointings" that go along with baptism, confirmation, and holy orders are also efficacious against venial sins.

4. "A bishop's blessing." When a bishop processes down the aisle making the sign of the cross over the gathered faithful, this isn't simply a formal way of saying hello or of establishing episcopal credibility. He is imparting his blessing, which, as Thomas points out, has the same sort of effect as the beating of the breast or the sprinkling with holy water.

5. It's fascinating that St. Thomas mentions "blessed bread," a custom long since lost among Roman Catholics but still preserved among the Eastern Orthodox and the Byzantine Catholics, who share out, after liturgy, bread baked for the liturgy that was not consecrated in the anaphora. For Eastern Christians who may be reading this, the partaking of the antidoron remits your venial sins.

Confiteor Deo omnipotenti...

6. By “general confession,” St. Thomas is referring to the saying of the Confiteor or a similar prayer that is recited in common and refers to sins generally. It is noteworthy, again, that at every Mass celebrated in the usus antiquior, the Confiteor will be recited at least twice — once by the priest and once by the servers — if not three times, wherever the laudable custom of the Confiteor immediately before communion is retained.

7. "Compassion, the forgiveness of another's faults." Here we are reminded by St. Thomas that our interior attitude towards our suffering brethren or those guilty of having injured us is itself a potent factor in the remission and prevention of venial sins.

8. "The Lord's Prayer." It should come as no surprise to find Thomas listing this sovereign prayer among the various means given to us to combat venial sin. What bears noting is the manner in which the Divine Office in its pre-1960 form utilized the Lord's Prayer frequently throughout the day, whereas later reforms to the Divine Office tended to minimize its use, presumably in deference to "ancient practice" and with the theory that repetition kills devotion. While the ancient practice may have been as they say, the theory that undergirds the anachronistic attempt to revive it is highly questionable, to say the least. Those who pray the Divine Office in its organically developed form come to appreciate the many times a day it places the Lord's sublime prayer on our lips.

Looking back over this list, we then ask the question: "Why is it that all these things are effective against venial sin?" St. Thomas provides a clear answer:

To the fourth question it should be said that, as has been said, venial sin is forgiven through the fervor of charity, which explicitly or implicitly contains contrition; and so those things that are in themselves of a nature to excite the fervor of charity are said to remit venial sins. Of this sort are the things that confer grace, like all the sacraments, and things by which impediments to fervor and grace are removed, like holy water, which represses the power of the Enemy, and a bishop’s blessing, or another exercise of humility on our part, like beating the breast, or the Lord’s Prayer, and the like.[4]

And again:

Our act is required for the remission of venial sin, but these acts are said to remit venial sin as acts that excite our fervor.[5]

For more thoughts on all of these topics, see my article "St. Thomas on the Asperges."

So, Reverend Fathers, get ready to douse your people this Lent with holy water before the Sunday High Mass! With this simple but potent means, you are driving back Satan's kingdom. Faithful Christian souls, get ready to take advantage of the plethora of tools Holy Mother Church offers you for combating the world, the flesh, and the devil.

NOTES

[1] In IV Sent. d. 16, q. 2, a. 2, qa. 4, sc 1: "Sed contra est quod communiter dicitur, quod multa sunt remedia contra venialia peccata; scilicet tunsio pectoris, aspersio aquae benedictae, unctio extrema, et omnis sacramentalis unctio; benedictio episcopi, panis benedictus, generalis confessio, compassio, alieni delicti dimissio, Eucharistia, oratio dominica, et alia quaecumque levis poenitentia."

[2] See "Beat Your Own Breast" for further thoughts on this custom.

[3] See Fr. Kocik on how to incorporate the Asperges into the Ordinary Form.

[4] In IV Sent. d. 16, q. 2, a. 2, qa. 4, resp.: "Ad quartam quaestionem dicendum, quod, sicut dictum est, veniale peccatum dimittitur per fervorem caritatis, qui explicite vel implicite contritionem contineat; et ideo illa quae nata sunt de se excitare fervorem caritatis, peccata venialia dimittere dicuntur: hujusmodi autem sunt quae gratiam conferunt, sicut omnia sacramenta, et quibus impedimenta fervoris et gratiae auferuntur, sicut aqua benedicta, quae virtutem inimici reprimit, et episcopalis benedictio, vel etiam exercitium humilitatis ex parte nostra; sicut tunsio pectoris, et oratio dominicalis, et hujusmodi."

[5] Ibid., ad 1: "Ad primum ergo dicendum, quod actus noster requiritur ad dimissionem venialis; sed ista dicuntur peccatum veniale remittere, inquantum in actum, nostrum fervorem excitant."

The Asperges in the Ordinary Form?

While preparing my paper for last June’s Sacra Liturgia USA conference, I made a discovery that will perhaps interest some NLM readers. In the traditional Roman Rite, the ceremony of sprinkling the clergy and people with holy water (the Asperges ceremony) takes place before the principal Mass on Sundays.¹ Because this ceremony is not part of Mass, the priest wears the cope instead of the chasuble and does not wear the maniple. In the Roman Rite’s ordinary form, the ceremony may be done at any Sunday Mass (including the Saturday evening Mass “of anticipation”) and takes the place of the penitential rite; the celebrant wears the chasuble because Mass has already begun. That much I knew. But then I discovered this . . .

The relevant rubric in the 1970 Missal of Paul VI reads: “When this rite is celebrated it takes the place of the penitential rite at the beginning of Mass.”² However, the corresponding rubric in the latest (third) typical edition of the Missal, that of 2002, reads: “If this rite is celebrated during Mass, it takes the place of the usual Penitential Act at the beginning of Mass.”³ The 2002 rubric implies that the ceremony may be done outside of Mass.

It would therefore seem permissible in the modern Roman Rite (at least, since 2002) to perform the Rite of Sprinkling — or, for that matter, even the traditional Asperges ceremony — before Sunday Mass (in which case the priest would wear either the cope or the chasuble, although preferably the cope), as would be more in keeping with tradition.⁴

_____________________

¹ The principal Mass need not be Sung or Solemn Mass.
² “Huiusmodi ritus locum tenet actus pænitentialis initio Missæ peragendi.” Missale Romanum, Vatican typical edition of 1970, p. 889.
³ “Si ritus intra Missam peragitur, locum tenet consueti actus pænitentialis initio Missæ.” Missale Romanum, Vatican typical edition of 2002, p. 1249.
⁴ In 1967 the cope was suppressed in the Asperges ceremony; the chasuble is worn in its stead.