“Messe Dialoguée en Français”: A Glimpse into the Devolution of Liturgy in the 1940s

It is understandable that many would see liturgical disaster as a unique product of the last Council, and particularly of the implementary body headed by Annibale Bugnini, the Consilium ad exsequendam. Others who have read more widely will understand that it is linked to the gradual radicalization of the Liturgical Movement, as it went from the restorationist and educational model of Dom Guéranger to the pastoral utilitarianism of the postwar period. Relatively few, it seems to me, recognize that the roots of this disaster go far back to (in varying ways) the Protestant Revolt, the Enlightenment, and the age of industrialization.

Lately, a number of fine studies have been published that help us to see these more remote pretexts and premises of the liturgical reform of the 1960s, when the program of the Synod of Pistoia finally entered every suburban parish.

Nico Fassino’s recent article in the The Pillar, “The surprising history of the Children’s Mass” tells us:

It is commonly believed that Children’s Masses are a unique development of the modern liturgical reforms, a direct outgrowth of the Second Vatican Council. In reality, however, special Masses for children – including what might now appear to be shocking liturgical innovations – stretch back more than a century before the Second Vatican Council.
     These Masses began as a 19th century attempt to grapple with dramatic social changes and challenges wrought by the modern world. They gained widespread popularity and even gave rise to the creation of vernacular participatory Mass methods for adults years before Vatican II.
     In total, hundreds of editions of these methods for children and adults were published, running to millions of cumulative copies, between 1861 and 1961. They were published with approval, printed for decades, and used with permission around the world.
     This is the story of the surprising origins of “Children’s Masses” in the early 1800s, their widespread popularity around the world, their sudden fall from favor immediately before the Second Vatican Council, and their rebirth during the initial years of the revised Roman Missal of Paul VI.

While Fassino shows us how deeply the rot of bad liturgical ideas had already set in well before the Council, it also happily shows how men of principle strongly resisted this literally juvenile mentality. One does not have to question the good will of these would-be reformers in order to see that such efforts at promoting “participation” are bought at the expense of “dumbing down”—a superficialization that subtly implies that liturgy is a thing for children to grow out of, not a thing to which we are apprenticed in a lifelong process of assimilation.

Similarly, John Paul Sonnen relates the story of “The First Permanent Altar Facing the People in the United States,” which, as it happens, was installed as early as 1938, at a time when it would have been officially forbidden!

Archbishop John Gregory Murray (1877-1956), a native of Connecticut, became the Archbishop of St. Paul (Minnesota) in 1931. During his 24-year tenure he became a frequent visitor to the monks of St. John's Abbey in nearby Collegeville, Minnesota. In those years St. John’s was the largest Benedictine Abbey in the world and they had made a name for themselves as the American epicenter of the Liturgical Movement and what came to be called the liturgical apostolate, coming into fashion after the First World War. 

       In 1938 Archbishop Murray laid the cornerstone of the new English Gothic Revival church of the Nativity, under construction in a beautiful new residential neighborhood in St. Paul’s Groveland neighborhood. The architect of the church was a non-Catholic by the name of James B. Hills. It was during this time that Archbishop Murray approved a plan that was heretofore unheard of: the altar in the basement crypt chapel was to be set permanently facing the people.

       In those days this represented a forbidden stratum of liturgical experimentation that was not yet conceived by most, or sanctioned with approval by the Holy See. An innovation in its day, such a thing had not been tried anywhere in the country. Proponents of the Liturgical Movement in northern Europe had been slowly promoting the idea of Mass facing the people, but it was still a novelty concept in the rest of the world. 

Here is the altar John is talking about, in the only photo that has survived of it (today the room is a recreational space):

We can see this sort of thing in a 1930 photo from the Abbey of Maria Laach in Germany, a hotbed of progressive liturgism. Note that here, there is a more deliberate effort to make the altar look like a meal table:

Returning now to Fassino’s statement that “vernacular participatory Mass methods for adults” were being promoted “years before Vatican II,” I thought readers of NLM would appreciate seeing the photos of a section contained in a Missel-Vespéral Romain edited by the redoubtable Dom Gaspar Lefebvre, OSB, and published in 1946. The reader who kindly shared these photos noted that she also has another edition of the same missal from 1942, which contains the same section.

The photos were sent page by page; I cropped them and combined them for ease of viewing, which explains the mismatches from left to right. (As always, click to enlarge.)

Title page and copyright page

What is most striking about this entire method, which, as Yves Chiron describes, was also practiced by (indeed, pioneered by) Bugnini in Italy, is how much blathering is going on. Throughout the Mass there is “Une Voix,” presumably a layman, who acts as the reader or “commentator” in some cases; and there are many short texts and some long texts that “Toutes” (All) are supposed to say.

The priest, meanwhile, is doing his part at the altar in Latin, so there is a parallel Mass: his in Latin and everyone else’s in French.

A rather heavy-handed attempt is made to bring out the Trinitarian structure of everything: the Kyrie, the Gloria, the Credo... Yes, of course, it’s there and it’s important, but whatever happened to not hitting people over the head with a didactic shovel?

There is a lot of chatter DURING the Roman Canon, as Une Voix laboriously explains to Toutes that now we are praying for the Church militant, now we are offering the Victim, now we are praying for the dead... What strikes me the most is how the pious paraphrase being spoken throughout by the people is so much akin to the “methods of hearing the Mass” that the same Liturgical Movement held in such disdain! It’s as if they simply transferred private devotion into a public mode. This was surely a far cry from Pius X’s “don’t merely pray at Mass, pray the Mass!”

It is actually refreshing to see the act of Spiritual Communion placed right where it is, as a gentle reminder that not everyone should go up to Communion, but only those properly disposed to do so. And thankfully, this act is left... unannounced and unrecited by Toutes. Sadly, even the Last Gospel has to be paraphrased and simplified.

Even the thanksgiving after Mass is corporate and vocal.

It is very difficult to read a method like this and not to wonder, “What in the world were they thinking?” Just because you recite a lot of pious phrases about the Mass all along does not mean you are participating in the holy oblation, the ultimate sacrifice. In fact, you might just miss it altogether by skating on the surface and having no opportunity for recollection, assimilation, and self-offering from the depths of one’s soul.

In his 1975 Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii, Pope Paul VI—who only six years earlier had unleashed on the world a Mass that was patterned after this kind of “Messe Dialoguée en Français”—lamented: “Modern man is sated by talk; he is obviously tired of listening, and what is worse, impervious to words.”

Physician, heal thyself.

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The Excision of the Institution Narratives from Pius XII’s Holy Week

This past Holy Week I was once again able to assist at the Roman Rite in its ancient-medieval-baroque plenitude, or, to put it more simply, “pre-55.” I have now attended for several years, and the contrast between it and the rite of Eugenio Pacelli is nothing less than astonishing: I would say it is of the same kind of contrast as one finds between the old and new missals in general, if the new be done in the most conservative way possible. Indeed, the ultimate irony is that there are features in the Novus Ordo Triduum that restore what Pacelli had removed—one of the few times in the year when Tridentine and Montinian rub shoulders, so to speak.

Each year I assist at the pre-55 ceremonies, my love and appreciation for them grow. If I had to use a single word, I would say they are sublime. The texts and actions are coherent in a way that those of the Pius XII remix aren’t. These rites move with a majestic, unhurried inevitability, dense with interlocking symbolism. Something about their sheer massiveness, and their utter indifference to pragmatic considerations, makes it easier to lose the sense of time; one surrenders to something so great that it can just as well exist without you, but you are humbly glad to be a part of it. It is not always the case that shortening and simplifying a rite in fact makes it feel easier and shorter. The flow of a rite, and the sacral atmosphere it creates, is far more important for pulling a man out of himself than anything a clock can measure.

The problems with Pius XII’s “restored” Holy Week—which was officially in force from 1955 to 1969, only fourteen years, not long enough to constitute any kind of custom worthy of preservation, as compared with the many centuries of the traditional Holy Week—begin on Palm Sunday and continue throughout nearly every Mass and office till Easter. I provide an overview of some of these points in chapter 12 of The Once and Future Roman Rite, though of course Gregory’s series here at NLM is already a classic, as is Stefano Carusi’s article, and the critique of Pius XII’s master of ceremonies Msgr. Léon Gromier. A simple comparison may be found here.

This year I was more struck than usual by the jarring absence of the Last Supper from the Passion accounts as read in the ’62 missal (the TLM reads all four Passions in Holy Week every year, unlike the NOM which cycles through the Synoptics on Palm Sunday). Everyone who knows about the Roman Tradition (pre-55) vs. Pius XII’s neo-Holy Week talks about this, but I think it has more of an impact if you can see it visually.

Here is what happened to the Passion according to St. Matthew, from Palm Sunday. The images are taken from my 1948 St. Andrew's Daily Missal.

Here is what Pius XII did to the Passion according to St. Mark, read on Tuesday of Holy Week. The ending is intact, but not the beginning: once again, the institution of the Holy Eucharist is completely removed.

Here are the verses chopped out of St. Luke’s Passion on the Wednesday of Pius XII’s Holy Week. 

The upshot of these cuts is that nowhere in the 1962 missal, except for a rarely-used votive Mass, are any of the institution narratives read.

But were the readings too long?

One objection that has been made to the Roman tradition of reading the Passion narratives in their entirety—a practice done for many centuries prior to 1955, and which was to a large extent resumed with the Novus Ordo (!), albeit with a rotation cycle for the Synoptics—is that these accounts are just too long.

Well, yes, they are very long. However, that hardly seems like a serious objection during Holy Week. Do we have anything better to do during Holy Week than read Scripture and pray? If one is going to read the Passion, then one ought to read about the “Sacrament of the Passion” (as St Thomas calls the Eucharist), in order to underline, as Our Lord Himself did at the Last Supper, the intimate connection between the Holy Eucharist, the Sacrifice of Calvary, and the perfect charity of which the former is a sign and the latter is the principal act. It is hard to defend the theological coherence of skipping out on the sign Jesus gave us of His loving atonement and atoning love. As my esteemed colleague Gregory wrote on social media: “The whole aim of the 1955 Holy Week reform is to divorce the Mass from the Passion and the Cross.”

Regarding length of readings, Gregory added:

Objecting to the length of the Roman Passion accounts is just foolish; the Roman arrangement is the simplest and shortest of all the historical liturgies. In the Ambrosian Rite, the narrative of all the principal services from Spy Wednesday to the Easter vigil inclusive is carried entirely by St Matthew, so the Passions of Mark, Luke, and John are all read at one ceremony: the Matins of Good Friday. The Byzantine Rite does something similar with St Matthew, starting at the beginning of chapter 21 at Matins of Palm Sunday, and getting to the end of the Gospel (chapter 28) at Vespers of Holy Saturday. On Good Friday, there are twelve Gospels of the Passion at Matins, the first of which is more than four full chapters of John (!), then large parts of all four Passions are repeated at the Royal Hours. And this, in the midst of a huge number of other readings, endless canons and other kinds of hymns, etc., with almost none of the typical features of the Divine Office omitted.

A deacon commented:

I remember attending the Paschal Divine Liturgy at an Orthodox monastery one year, which begins with the chanting of the entire book of Acts. The liturgy was about four hours, and since there was no electricity at this monastery (and no pews), two of the monks threaded their way through the church replacing peoples’ candles as they burned down. Nobody complained about the length of the service. When it was over, the people went to their cars or tents to get a few hours sleep while two monks took turns tolling the bells all night long. Early in the morning, we were all up again for Divine Liturgy, followed by a meal. Let’s face it: we’ve become sissies. 

The question is forced: What in the world was going on with Pius XII that he allowed such liturgical tomfoolery under his watch?

The first thing we have to rule out—sorry, conspiracy theorists—is that Bugnini was the “author” of the Pacellian Holy Week. He was no such thing. At the time, he was a lowly secretary to the secret committee for proposing liturgical reforms, but the major players, older than he and more influential, steered the entire project. It was other Vatican officials, not Bugnini, who pushed through the new Holy Week. The secretary, for his part, watched open-eyed, learned the tricks of the trade, acquired the insider rolodex, and prepared for his day in the sun under Paul VI.

Here is how historian Yves Chiron puts it in his biography of Bugnini:

On May 28, 1948, Pius XII set up a Pontifical Commission for the Reform of the Liturgy that was eventually to be termed Commissio Piana. It was created within the Congregation of Rites, with Cardinal Micara, the new prefect of the same Congregation, as its president. Its creation was not made public; for a long time it worked in secrecy. Only when the first of the reforms it had prepared was promulgated was its existence revealed to the greater number, including most liturgists. It numbered few members and, unlike the commissions that later pontificates were to establish, it relied on few liturgy experts.
            With Cardinal Micara as president, the Pontifical Commission for the Reform of the Liturgy originally numbered only six members: Archbishop Alfonso Carinci, undersecretary of the Congregation of Rites; Fr Ferdinando Antonelli, OFM, relator general of the historical section of the Congregation of Rites; Fr Josef Löw, CSSR, vice-relator general of the same historical section; Fr Anselmo Albareda, OSB, prefect of the Vatican Library; Fr Augustin Bea, SJ, rector of the Pontifical Biblical Institute; and Fr Bugnini who, in his capacity as director of Ephemerides Liturgicae, was named secretary of this commission.
            Later on Bugnini would exercise the same function of secretary in the conciliar preparatory commission on the liturgy as well as in the postconciliar Consilium for liturgical reform. Yet whereas he played a decisive role in the preparatory commission and in the Consilium, he did not have a leading role on the Commissio Piana. He was an invaluable worker11 and rarely intervened in the discussions. He learned and observed much, probably became aware of certain problems, but never exerted a decisive influence. 

As to what might have been going on with Pius XII, readers may consult two articles of mine:

• “Coincidences during the reign of Pius XII? Political background to Vatican II and liturgical changes”
• “Lights and Shadows in the Pontificate of Pius XII”

Quite simply: it is time to let go of the postwar experiments and return, humbly and gratefully, to the Roman tradition embodied in the 1570 missal and its line of continuous successors.
 

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

The Giant Christ-Carrier

July 25 is the great feast of the Saint James the Apostle, but the traditional liturgy also commemorates on the same day a Saint who is one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers, the most famous patron Saint of travelers, and the plastic king of dashboards. Christopher started out life as Offerus or Reprobus (accounts differ), a proud and—at seven and a half feet tall—imposing man who was born in Canaan in the third century under the reign of the Roman Emperor Decius. Nothing but the best would do for the mighty Reprobus, and so he vowed to serve the greatest king in the world. He began in the service of a Christian monarch, but after seeing the king make the sign of the cross every time the Devil was mentioned, he realized that the king feared the Devil. Reprobus then went off to serve the Devil in the desert, but when he noticed that his new master avoided a roadside cross and asked for an explanation, the Devil admitted, “There was a man called Christ which was hanged on the cross, and when I see his sign I am sore afraid, and flee from it wheresoever I see it.” [1]

St Christopher Carrying the Infant Christ, ca. 1615, by Orazio Borgianni

That did it for Reprobus: he was to become a disciple of Jesus Christ. After seeking the counsel of a wise hermit, he was told that Christians must fast often. Unable to do so, Reprobus asked for something else. The hermit then told him to offer many prayers. Ignorant of how to pray, Reprobus again asked for something else. Finally, the hermit suggested that he put his large stature to good use and ferry people across a dangerous river on his shoulders.

Reprobus agreed and carried out this task for many days until one night he was awakened by a small child asking for passage. As they crossed the river, Reprobus almost collapsed and drowned under the enormous weight of the child. When the exhausted giant complained after they reached the other side, the child replied, “Be not astonished: thou bearest him who bears the world.” [2] As proof of His statement, the Child commanded Reprobus to plant his staff in the ground, at which it blossomed into a palm tree with leaves and dates. Our Lord also baptized Reprobus personally, changing his name from Reprobus (Latin for “rejected” or “counterfeit”) to Christopher (Greek for “Christ-bearer”). As Jacobus de Voragine explains, the name is appropriate in four ways: “He bare him on his shoulders by conveying and leading, in his body by making it lean [apparently he got over his aversion to fasting], in mind by devotion, and in his mouth by confession and predication.” [3]

St Christopher, by Konrad Witz, 1435

Christopher became a fearless defender of the faith, exhorting condemned Christians to die as martyrs and converting thousands in the city of Lycia before he was arrested on the king’s orders. The king tried a variety of carrots and sticks to convince him to sacrifice to the gods, but when he held firm, the king ordered him to be executed by archers. The arrows, however, stopped in midair as they approached the Saint, and one even turned around and poked the king in the eye. Furious, the king ordered Christopher to be beheaded. Before his execution, Christopher advised the king to use the blood from his severed head to heal his eye. The king did so and was miraculously cured, exclaiming: “In the name of God and of Saint Christopher!” He then decreed that if anyone blamed God or Saint Christopher, “he should anon be slain with the sword.” [4]

This account of Christopher’s life, the bulk of which is taken from the thirteenth-century Golden Legend, is the product of a poetic license that mushroomed considerably over the centuries. Yet tales of the Saint are even stranger in the Byzantine tradition of iconography, in which Christopher has the head of a dog, most likely because Eastern Christians misinterpreted the Latin Cananeus (Canaanite) for canineus (canine). The Byzantine blunder then found its way into medieval Irish and German biographies which include such memorable lines as: “This Christopher was one of the Dog-heads, a race that had the heads of dogs and ate human flesh.” [5]

Saint Christopher Cynocephalus, Kermira, Cappadocia

Our earliest evidence (and latest theories) indicate that Christopher was a conscripted Christian soldier from a north African military unit stationed in Syria who was martyred by the governor of Antioch around A.D. 308. Some further speculate that his cult may have been confused with that of the Egyptian martyr Saint Menas. [6]

Patronage and Customs

Saint Christopher is one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers, a group of Saints popular during the Middle Ages for their specific powers of intercession. He was invoked as a patron against sudden death, especially the plague. As Father Francis X. Weiser explains, at a time “when people never knew in the morning whether they would still be alive that evening,” they looked at Christopher’s picture and said a prayer in the morning in the hopes that “they would be safe from death on that day.” [7] In the words of the Golden Legend: the power “to put away sickness and sores” is given to those who remember Saint Christopher’s “passion and figure.” [8]

As a result of this belief, images of Saint Christopher were painted or hung near the doors of houses or churches, sometimes on the inside and—for the benefit of passerby—sometimes on the outside. According to one tally, there are more images of him on the walls of old English churches than of any other Saint except the Blessed Virgin Mary. [9]

A St. Christopher Wayside Shrine in Slovenia

Christopher’s job on the river also made him an obvious candidate for patron of ferrymen and their passengers, freight ships and their crews, surfers, sailors, skiers, pilgrims, and travelers. (And because his staff burst into bloom, he was also designated a patron Saint of gardeners.) His patronage was extended to motorists in the early twentieth century and caught on quickly, especially since traffic accidents are in some sense the modern plague, taking as many lives as epidemics of old and in even more sudden a manner. Blessing automobiles on Saint Christopher’s Day used to be a common Catholic custom: although a car, truck, etc. can be blessed any day of the year and although the Roman Ritual’s blessing of an automobile mentions Saint Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch (Acts 8, 26-40) instead of Saint Christopher, [10] it still felt natural to turn to him on his feast day for a vehicular blessing. The shrine of Saint Christophe le Jajolet near the little Norman village of Argentan, for example, hosted its first blessing in 1910, and by 1927 it was receiving thousands of French motorists on his feast day. [11]

Protecting your investment: A Fiat Topolino (1936-55) is blessed at St.-Christophe-le-Jajolet

He is also well-known for his medals. Many Catholics place a blessed Saint Christopher medal in their vehicle or affix a blessed statuette of him to their dashboards. This devotion nicely combines his patronage of travelers with the custom of keeping his image, but it is good to remember the reason why his image became popular in the first place. It is not simply by owning his picture but by looking at it and contemplating his passion that the faithful are said to receive blessings. The Christopher medals common in France still make this connection explicit, for on them is inscribed: Regarde Saint Christophe et va-t-en rassuré—“Look at Saint Christopher and go on reassured.” Similarly, some English medals have, "Behold St. Christopher, and go your way in safety."

Ideas for Today

Observing customs in honor of both Saint James and Saint Christopher is not difficult. Families can attend morning Mass along with some fruits of the orchard (walnuts, apples, etc.) and have them and their car blessed afterwards. Father Weiser recommends that even with a private blessing of an automobile, parents “should try to make this ceremony somewhat impressive and have all their children witness it.” [12] I would also advise from personal experience that the priest circle the entire vehicle when bestowing his benediction. Once, before an interstate trip, our pastor blessed our family car and sprinkled the hood with holy water. The next day on the road, another car clipped us in the rear.

Finally, you can take your newly blessed car and snacks on a day trip and enjoy a picnic.

Christopher’s Postconciliar Cult

The Church did not suppress the cult of Saint Christopher after Vatican II or “de-canonize” him, but it removed his commemoration from the General Calendar. The official reason is stated in the 1969 decree Calendarium Romanum:

The commemoration of Saint Christopher, which was added to the [general] Roman calendar around 1550, is relegated to the particular calendars [of some Church, region, or religious family]. Although the Acts of Saint Christopher are fabulous, ancient testimonies to his veneration have been found. Nevertheless, the cult of this Saint does not pertain to the Roman tradition. [13]

It is curious that Christopher’s lack of Romanitas was used as a mark against him, since other reforms of the Mass treated the presence of Romanitas as a demerit. Archbishop Bugnini, for example, sought to suppress or make optional quintessentially Roman features of the Roman rite such as Ash Wednesday and the Roman Canon. And all of the Eucharistic Prayers in the Novus Ordo have an Epiclesis of the Holy Spirit because the reformers were uncomfortable with the Roman tradition of not having one.

Similarly curious is the fact that one of the stated principles guiding the reform of the calendar was the “universalization” of the General Calendar so that it would no longer reflect the cult of Rome but include Saints from all four corners of the globe. [14] A laudable goal, but why does a Middle Eastern Saint such as Christopher not count as multicultural, especially when the same document states that Christopher is not originally from the Roman tradition?

Annibale Bugnini

Annibale Bugnini provides part of the answer in his book The Reform of the Liturgy: “One of the principles governing the revision of the calendar was that no Saint’s cult could be made obligatory if there was not historical evidence of his or her name, place, and date of celebration.” [15] In other words, the historical reconstructions of modern scholarship were considered more important in shaping how millions of Catholics worship than the Church’s own ancient and unbroken traditions.

Yet this criterion alone is not sufficient to remove Christopher from the general calendar, for his cult could have been kept as an “optional memorial,” as in the case of Saint Nicholas on December 6.

I suspect that there is an additional reason for Christopher’s demotion which is not to be found in any official document or memoir, and it is this. Because the architects of the Novus Ordo calendar were renowned experts with extensive resumes or advanced degrees (and little pastoral experience), they may have had an elitist’s disdain for a particular kind of lowbrow folk belief. My guess is that when Archbishop Bugnini and his peers looked at the cult of Saint Christopher, they did not see a well-trod channel to God’s blessings hallowed by generations of faithful Catholics the world over, but an embarrassing array of tacky sacramentals and kitschy art and ludicrous stories.

Chesterton once remarked that when faced with the choice of “old wives’ tales” and “old maids’ facts,” he would choose the former. Time and again, the designers of the new calendar sided with the latter. Not surprisingly, when different voices within the Church protested the loss of Saint Christopher on the General Calendar, the committee stood by their decision. [16]

None of this should discourage us from honoring Saint Christopher, on whose giant shoulders there never was a chip. Just as the mighty Saint forgave his persecutor by posthumously giving him back his sight, so too should we forgive the blindness of those who have wounded Catholic worship and devotion and pray for healing through the Blood of the Lamb and His martyrs. Look at Saint Christopher and go on reassured.

Portions of this article first appeared in “July 25: The Feast of the Thunderous Heel-Grabber and the Giant Christ-Carrier,” The Latin Mass magazine 27:2 (Summer 2018), pp. 30-34. Many thanks to the editors of TLM for allowing its publication here.

Notes

[1] Jacobus de Voragine, The Golden Legend, vol. 4, trans. William Caxton (Temple Classics, 1900), 68.

[2] Dom Gueranger, The Liturgical Year, vol. 13, trans. Laurence Shepherd (St. Bonaventure, 2000), 186.

[3] Golden Legend, 67.

[4] Golden Legend, 70.

[5] “The Passion of Saint Christopher,” trans. J. Fraser, Revue Celtique 34 (1913), 307-25.

[6] David Woods, “Saint Christopher, Bishop Peter of Attalia, and the Cohors Marmaritarum: A Fresh Examination”, Vigiliae Christianae 48:2 (June 1994), 170-86.

[7] Francis X. Weiser, Handbook of Christian Feasts and Customs (Harcourt, Brace, and World, 1952), 335.

[8] Golden Legend, 71.

[9] Mrs. Collier, “Saint Christopher and Some Representations of Him in English Churches,” Journal of the British Archaeological Association (1904), 130–45.

[10] The blessing and a translation may be found in The Roman Ritual, vol. 3, trans. and ed. Philip T. Weller (Bruce Publishing, 1946), 384-87.

[11] “1,000 French Motorists Honor Saint Christopher At Shrine of Automobilists’ Patron Saint,” The New York Times (July 25, 1927), 4.

[12] Weiser, Religious Customs in the Family (TAN, 1998), 102.

[13] Calendarium Romanum (Vatican: 1969), 131, trans. mine.

[14] Calendarium, 74-75.

[15] Annibale Bugnini, Reform of the Liturgy, trans. Matthew J. O’Connell (Liturgical Press, 1990), 317.

[16] Bugnini, 318.

“What if all these brilliant innovators were nothing more than a bunch of atrocious imbeciles?”: Msgr. Celada on the 1960s

Last October 24, I published here a translation of a remarkable open letter written by Msgr. Domenico Celada in 1969. What follows is an article he published late in February 1969 in the periodical Il Tempo. Enjoy the clarity of this distinguished musicologist and — we must surely say looking back — prophet of the Lord. —PAK

A “beat” Mass in Italy, from a book by Msgr. Celada

I remember having written, in the April-June 1966 issue of a music magazine, a note on the liturgy after the Second Vatican Council. Those were the months in which the destructive plan of certain “liturgists” was taking shape, in all its tragic significance, and they had come to propose those so-called “youth masses,” accompanied by dance-hall orchestras, which represent—even leaving aside any consideration of a religious nature—the triumph of ignorance and stupidity.

I wrote at the time: “The sacred liturgy is going through a period of great crisis, perhaps the most painful in its history. Never has there been so much decadence and confusion: it was truly reaching rock bottom.”

On that occasion I received messages of consent and praise, I can well say, from every part of the Catholic world: letters from simple faithful, from many priests and parish priests, even from bishops and cardinals. However, to be honest, I must say that I also received a strong “reprimand” from the ecclesiastical office in charge of the so-called liturgical reform, an office known by the name of “Consilium,” about which there is already a vast literature that is certainly not benevolent.

The emitter of the “reprimand,” written on official letterhead, with a coat of arms and a protocol number, began by expressing his shock at my diagnosis of a “crisis” in the liturgy, and maintained, on the contrary, that “the liturgy is going through one of its most flourishing and promising periods”; after which he declared that my remarks were of a “supine falsity,” and that the entire text represented an “offensive insinuation” and a “subjective and erroneous evaluation.” My prose was, moreover, “disconcerting, brazen, offensive, and audacious.”

I barely emerged, though completely unharmed, from that landslide of adjectives, grouped in foursomes, under which I could have been suffocated. Not even three years have passed since then.

About twenty days ago, I opened L’Osservatore Romano and found a seven-column article (an entire page of the daily newspaper of the Holy See!) entitled “History of the Church and Crisis of the Church.” [1] In it, the distinguished historiographer Hubert Jedin writes verbatim: “There is first of all, visible to all, the liturgical crisis, not to speak of chaos. When today, on a Sunday morning, one goes around the parish churches of a city, one finds in each one a divine service differently ‘organized’; one encounters omissions; one sometimes hears readings different from those provided for by the liturgical ordo; if one then comes to another country whose language one happens not to know, one feels quite a stranger.”

It seems important to note that Hubert Jedin, in his clear diagnosis of the current situation of the Church, mentions “first and foremost”—even before the crisis of faith—precisely the liturgical crisis, now “visible to all.” Considering the authority of the writer and that of the Vatican newspaper, which never hosts an article except after the most rigorous control, one must conclude that today the crisis of the liturgy is an indisputable fact, and that it is licit to speak and write about it without fear of receiving missives full of unflattering adjectives. [2]

On the other hand, many things have happened in three years. The Congregation of Rites was forced to intervene against the many arbitrary experiments with a “declaration” of December 29, 1966 (which, moreover, remained a dead letter), and the pope himself, in the famous allocution of April 19, 1967, expressed his pain and apprehension about what is happening in the liturgical field, emphasizing the “disturbance of the faithful” and denouncing a certain mentality aimed at the “demolition of authentic Catholic worship,” also implying “doctrinal and disciplinary subversions.”

But of particular interest is the comparison that the scholar makes between the crisis experienced by the Church in the sixteenth century and that of the present time. How did the Church overcome this earlier crisis? Jedin answers: “Not by renouncing her authority, nor by accepting equivocal formulas of compromise, nor by welcoming the liturgical chaos created [at that time] by arbitrary innovations in the divine service.”
 

Trent: a model of what to do in a time of crisis

This is very true. If the Tridentine decrees re-established the security of faith, the Missal and Breviary issued by St. Pius V further unified the liturgy. In fact, we must not forget that the “lex orandi,” according to the ancient saying, is also the “lex credendi”: the law of faith. It therefore seems logical that today’s “licentia orandi” corresponds to a “licentia credendi.”

Hubert Jedin writes: “I fear that before long, in some places, one will no longer find a Latin missal...” And yet (the scholar recalls), “the Liturgical Constitution itself (art. 36) maintains the Latin liturgy as a rule, the same way as it was before. Would it not be nonsense for the Catholic Church in our century—in the century of the unification of the world—to completely renounce such a precious bond of unity, as is the Latin liturgical language? Would this not amount to a very belated slide into a nationalism already considered outdated?”

These are purely rhetorical questions, since the inexplicable renunciation of Latin has already practically taken place “in fraudem legis”: against the obligatory nature of a conciliar law that clearly prescribes the preservation of the use of Latin, and against the right of the Catholic faithful to the enjoyment of a common good.

Now, having broken the unity of the language and destroyed the identity of the rites, the chaos has extended from the liturgical field to the doctrinal one. Already in April 1967, Paul VI began to lament “something very strange and painful,” the “alteration of the sense of the one and only genuine faith.” But this was the consequence, with a perfect and inexorable logic, of tampering with the grandiose edifice of the Liturgy—that is, of having translated, mutilated, and replaced texts and formulas that in themselves represented a “summa” of piety and doctrine. One understands today more than ever the truth of Pius XII’s teaching in the encyclical Mediator Dei: “The use of the Latin language is a clear and noble sign of unity, and an effective antidote to any corruption of pure doctrine.”

The crisis of the liturgy is now indeed “visible to all.” Many deceptions have been discovered. In spite of this, the innovators continue to work with the zeal of those who are not quite sure of themselves, they continue to tamper with, distort, and demolish what little remains. A recent conference of liturgists was held to discuss “new Eucharistic prayers” and a new “ordo Missae”... [3]

With regard to these obstinate reformers who are disrupting the liturgy, the famous Catholic novelist François Mauriac wrote not long ago: “I ask myself, in a sudden panic: what if all these brilliant innovators were nothing more than a bunch of atrocious imbeciles? Then there would be no more escape: for it has happened that the deaf regain their hearing, that the blind see again; it has even happened that the dead are resurrected; but there is no proof, no document, about an idiot who has ceased to be an idiot.”

It seems to me that the French academician is a bit too pessimistic. He seems to have forgotten that any idiot, even if he cannot cease to be an idiot, can simply be put in a condition not to do harm.
 

Fra Paolo Sarpi (1552–1623), “Eviscerator of the Council of Trent”: a nickname better suited to Annibale Bugnini?

NOTES

[1] This article appeared in the January 15, 1969 issue of L’Osservatore Romano.

[2] Angered by this article of Hubert Jedin, Annibale Bugnini wrote a private letter of protest to the author—and was later careful to quote it at length in his tome The Reform of the Liturgy (p. 283). This impassioned attack on the Church’s liturgical practice for most of her history must surely be one of the most remarkable passages ever written by a Catholic (if its author may be considered such):

As a good historian who knows how to weigh both sides and reach a balanced judgment, why did you not mention the millions and hundreds of millions of the faithful who have at last achieved worship in spirit and in truth? Who can at last pray to God in their own languages and not in meaningless sounds, and are happy that henceforth they know what they are saying? Are they not “the Church”? As for [Latin as] the “bond of unity”: Do you believe the Church has no other ways of securing unity? Do you believe there is a deep and heartfelt unity amid lack of understanding, ignorance, and the “dark of night” of a worship that lacks a face and light, at least for those out in the nave? Do you not think that a priestly pastor must seek and foster the unity of his flock—and thereby of the universal flock—through a living faith that is fed by the rites and finds expression in song, in communion of minds, in love that animates the Eucharist, in conscious participation, and in entrance into the mystery? Unity of language is superficial and fictitious; the other kind of unity is vital and profound… Here in the Consilium we are not working for museums and archives, but for the spiritual life of the people of God.

[3] This article was published in late February 1969, only about six weeks before Paul VI issued his apostolic constitution Missale Romanum promulgating the Novus Ordo Missae.

“For a General Liturgical Reform” by Annibale Bugnini (Part 5: Conclusion)

With this final installment we complete our publication of the first-ever English translation of Bugnini’s programmatic 1949 article in Ephemerides Liturgicae outlining the plan for a total overhaul of the Church’s liturgical worship. (See Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4. The entire document may be downloaded as a single PDF.)

12. OBSERVATIONS ON CERTAIN PARTS OF THE OFFICE

We have made a few remarks on the different parts of the Divine Office, discussing the matter systematically. Let us now complete this with a few specific annotations.

Some would like to give each Hour an explanatory title: a “theme,” an “idea” as a guide, and also assign for each day and for the individual Hours an official “prayer intention” of the Church. Furthermore, according to the same proponents, each feria could have its own, more explicit particular meaning. For example: Sunday: the Trinity; Monday: thanksgiving; Tuesday: high praise to God; Wednesday: universal prayer; Thursday: glorification of the God-Man; Friday: general Satisfaction to Christ who is sacrificed for us; Saturday: Mary and the saints.

Some would ask for the faculty to say ad libitum, in Lent, the Office de tempore, instead of that of the day’s saint, as is already done for the Mass.

Let us just mention the proposal that “parish priests be authorised to anticipate at noon, at least on Sundays and Feasts, the Matins of the following day.” The proposal denotes the good spirit and the piety of those who advanced it, but betrays an erroneous conception of the Divine Office, which by its very nature is an “hourly” prayer, to be distributed in the various proper times to sanctify all the hours of the day.

To compensate for the loss of the hagiographic lessons, it is asked for the introduction at Prime of the reading of the Martyrology (either in full, or reduced to some eulogies more important to the universal and local Church). This would also resolve, according to the contributors, the issue of commemorations, which would be abolished per se, as the memory done at Prime with the Martyrology should suffice.

As for the Minor Hours, a pastoral suggestion is that at least on Sundays and feast days, parish priests and others with care of souls should be dispensed from them.

Some would like greater protection of the standing of First and Second Vespers on Sunday, particularly during Lent and Advent, even when First and Second Class feasts clash against it.

For Compline there are those who would want every day, except Sunday, Psalm 50 (“Miserere”). Others would prefer to return to the old invariable arrangement, that is, the current Sunday scheme, as it was before Pius X. Some think that for Compline too, parish priests and clergy who sing Vespers with the people could be exempted.

For a fair solution it is necessary to bear in mind the proper character of each Hour and particularly of Compline, to which Psalms 90 and 133 are really well suited, and therefore a return to the status quo ante would please anyone. All the more so since the ever more frequent use, among certain groups of faithful, of Prime and Compline as morning and evening prayers, compels the clergy to say these Hours with them, and a simplification of the arrangements for practical use would be desirable.

13. THE OCTAVES

These have taken on enormous development, “exaggerated,” says one of the contributors. And for the octaves too, the “unanimous consensus” is that they should be simplified. Some would like them all to be abolished, with the exception of Christmas, Epiphany, Easter, Pentecost, Ascension and Corpus Christi, raising the office infra octavam to the rank of duplex. Others argue as follows: “The octaves of Easter and Pentecost should undoubtedly be retained because of their antiquity, and also that of Christmas because of its entirely special character: it is in fact an integral part of Christmastide, and endows the week from 25th to 31st December with singularly attractive features.

The octave of the Ascension, of recent institution, could certainly disappear, and the same goes for that of the Sacred Heart and all the non-privileged octaves. Besides, they could all be reduced to the rank of simple octaves, with a proper office only on the eighth day and with a special privilege enabling this to be preferred to feasts of double or inferior rite. One could also give the Sundays “infra octavam” an office inspired by the feast: this would seem almost indispensable for the majority of countries where these feasts are no longer celebrated by the people on the assigned day, but postponed to the following Sunday.

For Epiphany and Corpus Christi, the octave might be retained, but reducing all the days infra octavam to the simple rite, with ferial psalter. Wouldn’t it be a good idea to go a step further and rearrange all the festive offices, if not by reducing them to the simple rite, at least by referring them to the principle of a three-lesson office? In that case, the responsories that were suppressed could be used at Vespers, Lauds, and the Minor Hours after the chapter, so as not to deplete the liturgical prayer of these items, which are often magnificent.”

To recap, the octave system, in the opinion of a contributor, could be modified as follows:

1. Easter, Pentecost, Christmas: no change.

2. Octaves of the Temporal:

• Epiphany: on the days infra octavam, 3-lessons office with ferial psalter, commemoration only on the feasts of St Joseph and the Holy Family; on the eighth day, double office as on the feast day, but with proper texts, referring to the Baptism of Jesus.
• Ascension: octave suppressed, but maintaining the “Ascensiontide.”
• Corpus Christi: on the days infra octavam, 3-lessons office, yielding only before a double with simple commemoration; on the eighth day, feast of Christ the High Priest.
• Sacred Heart: simple octave, to be merged with the feast of the Precious Blood of Our Lord.

3. Octaves of the Sanctoral:

• Immaculate Conception, simple octave.
• Joseph (to be celebrated at Christmastide), simple octave.
• John the Baptist, simple octave.
• Ss. Peter and Paul, simple octave (on 4th July, feast of all the Holy Popes).
• Lawrence, simple octave.
• Assumption, simple octave, to be merged with the feast of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
• Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, simple octave, to be merged with the feast of the Name of Mary, which would take the office of the Nativity with proper parts from the current office.
• All Saints’ Day, simple octave, to be merged with the feast of the Holy Relics.
• Patron and Titular Saint, Dedication of a church, simple octave.

4. Office of the Sundays infra octavam:

Preserve intact the current offices for the Sundays within the octaves of Christmas, Ascension, Corpus Christi and Sacred Heart. Restore the Sunday within the Octave of the Epiphany and set the Feast of the Holy Family on another day infra octavam.

For Sundays infra octavam of the feasts of the Assumption and the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, Saints Peter and Paul, All Saints, the Dedication, the Feast of the Patron and of the Titular, the office could be composed as follows: Psalms and antiphons, chapter and hymn, short responsories and verses, from the Feast; Matins lessons and oration, from the occurring Sunday. At Mass, commemoration (the first one) and preface of the octave.

14. COMMEMORATIONS

It is said that by inserting the Martyrology at Prime, all the commemorations may as well be suppressed. This is, frankly, a somewhat simplistic way of solving the problem. Others call for its suppression at Matins, Lauds and Vespers, but not at Mass. All the commemorations should be reduced to two and all the rest be omitted, some propose. And again: the saints of the simple or double rite, when occurring on a Sunday, should only be commemorated at Lauds. We will not linger over other proposals as the simplified system for the octaves would also bring about this simplification, which ultimately is a logical consequence of the foregoing.

15. THE RUBRICS

Among the various proposals, here are the main ones:

1. Brief notes, both historical and exegetical, should be provided before the various rites and their parts, or else be merged with the general rubrics of both the Breviary and the Missal. Naturally the current “Rubricae generales” should be combined with the “Additiones et Variationes.” These should be numbered progressively, emulating in brevity and clarity the canons of the C.I.C. The new prolegomena of the liturgical books should also serve as the school text (or as a substantial part of the text) of practical liturgy in seminaries.

2. The rubric or rubrics referring to the canonical Hours in relation to the Conventual Mass should be revised or deleted. Thus the rule prescribing the recitation of Vespers before midday (i.e. before lunch) in Lent is a patent error of interpretation, which should be corrected.

3. A few specific notes: in order to dispel any doubt as to whether one should genuflect with one or both knees, the rubric at the Invitatory: “In sequenti Psalmi versu, ad verba: venite, adoremus, et procidamus, genuflectitur,” should be changed to: “In sequenti Psalmi versu verba: venite, adoremus, et procidamus dicuntur flexis genibus.”

On the feast of the Holy Angels, at each Hour and at the end of First Vespers on 24 March, 8 May, 29 September, 2 October, 24 October, the following rubric should be added: “Conclusio hymnorum ad omnes Horas”:

         Deo Patri sit gloria, - Qui, quos redemit Filius
         Et Sanctus unxit Spiritus, - Per Angelos custodiat. Amen.

The first stanza of the Iste Confessor should always say: “Hac die laetus meruit supremos - Laudis honores.” Thus many particular rubrics on the feasts of the saints would drop by themselves.

4. “There is urgent need,” says a collaborator, “for a methodical compilation, for the use of the whole Church, not of a detailed guide to the slightest gestures of choir or officiants, but of a collection of the general principles, a true Codex iuris liturgici, enunciating in clear and systematic terms what individuals and the different categories are to do, according to the times, places and circumstances of the celebration of liturgical feasts and ceremonies.

The order should be parallel to that of the Code of Canon Law, and the subject matter should be provided by the methodical sifting of the rubrics -- those that have not fallen into disuse or become obsolete -- of the Missal, the Breviary, the Pontificale and the Ceremoniale, together with the appendix for minor churches, and the Rituale. The selection should be made not on the basis of the uses that are legally in force, but on that of the abundant and serious studies that have shed light on the origin, meaning and historical evolution of each rite or ceremony.

Such work should later serve as a starting point for synodal and diocesan commissions for liturgy to adjust, according to the spiritual needs of the different places, the celebrations required of each priest in his parish and to put an end to the arbitrary practices that are occurring more and more every day.”

CONCLUSION

We have sifted here and there through an abundant harvest. Proposals and projects, in their manifold variety, reflect one identical light: the intimate desire for renewal and adaptation of the “laus perennis” to the current spiritual needs of the clergy and the “plebs Dei.” We have wanted to report with absolute fidelity, often in their own words, the thoughts of our collaborators, so that their voice may reach our readers without distortion or misrepresentation, but in its genuine integrity. While we warmly thank all those who have joined us in this common endeavour, which we hope will bear fruit “tempore opportuno,” we also confirm that the pages of the Review will remain open to any other collaboration that, both in intention and in formulation, adheres to a wise balance between “nova et vetera.”

Rome, March 1949.

A. BUGNINI, C. M.

Msgr. Bugnini 18 years later, celebrating the Missa Normativa at the 1967 Synod of Bishops

“For a General Liturgical Reform” by Annibale Bugnini (Part 4)

We continue our publication of the first-ever English translation of Bugnini’s programmatic 1949 article in Ephemerides Liturgicae outlining part of the plan for a total overhaul of the Church’s liturgical worship. (See Part 1; Part 2; Part 3.) 

Dean Cornwell (1892-1960), Priest (1921)

7. THE READING

Another point of paramount importance for all proposers was the reading. A qualitative and quantitative increase was unanimously called for. This is undoubtedly a good sign. However, when it comes to the concrete formulation of the proposals, the opinions are no longer convergent.

Let us note this at once: on the one hand, it is asked that the reading be increased; on the other hand, there is a desire to shorten Matins by reducing them to a single Nocturne and to three lessons that are not too long and one taken from the O.T., the next historical, the third from the N.T. (this is, after all, the old scheme of the “Breviarium S. Crucis”).

But three lessons alone reduce the reading to a minimum, assuming of course that the lessons should not be longer than the current average length. As for the biblical lesson, there are many calls for it to be “continuous,” even during Lent and the Ember Days. It is desired that the most practical books be chosen and read in full, especially the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles. When, then, occasionally the readers were impeded, they should certainly be omitted. It is also suggested that the distribution of the books of Kings be reviewed, as the first takes up too much space at the expense of the others, and more room be given to Jeremiah, the Minor Prophets, and Job.

A widespread request would want the lessons of the 1st Nocturne (biblical) be longer, as Holy Scripture should have a more important place in the new Breviary.

Some would realise this as follows: an obligation to read the Bible for ten minutes, but at the priest’s free discretion. This way he would be able to read what is most beneficial and attractive to him. Others would like to see a reduction in the O.T. readings and more emphasis on the N.T.

The lessons of the 2nd nocturne, on the other hand, should be shortened, both to eliminate pomposities of little or no spiritual value, as well as to bring about a certain balance between the offices in terms of length.

The hagiographic lessons, it is further observed, should be seriously revised, eliminating legends, which discredit the piety of the Church, and accounts of miracles, even authentic ones, in order to give more prominence to the proper character of each saint’s work and holiness, “not omitting to properly frame” in two or three sentences, the historical, geographical, social and spiritual environment in which the saint lived. This is of great importance for a correct evaluation and appreciation of their virtues. If the saint has left writings, it would be desirable to have some of them read, instead of the often ordinary or schematic life. As for the patristic lessons, they should first of all be given in the critical text, citing the source from which they are taken; then, as far as possible and according to the findings of the most recent studies, make sure of their genuine authorship. It is also requested that a more “eclectic” choice of texts be made (from the Greek Church, from recent Doctors, and even if they have written in modern languages). Possibly on the feast day of a Doctor, a text by him should be given.

The discourses and sermons de tempore should also be thoroughly revised, and the sermons of the Commons be more varied.

Indeed, were it possible, the homilies should be read in full, and not just the beginning, on a number of days or feasts (as is the case with the Office of the Octave of the Dedication of the Church), so that over several occasions they could be read in full. Furthermore, it would be necessary to decisively remove those passages, such as certain interpretations and allegories (e.g. the 38 years of the paralytic at the pool of Bethsaida), which reflect the fashion and taste of a bygone era, and replace them with texts of true spiritual nourishment.

Finally, a practical issue that affects the entire reading (biblical, patristic, historical, homiletic) is that it be done in “the vernacular” in a pure and simple style, or at least alternating one month in Latin and the other in the vernacular (a proposal that extends to the entire Breviary).

8. CHAPTERS AND RESPONSORIES

Related to the question of the reading is that of chapters. It is wished to extend to all Sundays of the year the distribution, in chapters, of the occurring epistle to remedy the monotony of the chapters at Vespers, the only hour celebrated in parishes.[1]

As for the responsories, their fresh introduction under Pius X was certainly an improvement for the Breviary and to deprive it of them now would be an impoverishment. The responsory has no small spiritual function insofar as after the reading it is like a meditation, a recollection of what has been read, an elevation of the soul to God in meditated praise. It is not, therefore, a simple piece of singing and so good only for the office sung in choir.

9. HYMNS

The proposals for hymns can be summarised as follows:

1) to go back to the ancient texts and be inspired by them for the new compositions;

2) to increase the number of hymns by taking them from classical hymnody (Prudentius, Fortunatus, Sedulius, etc.) and from the very rich medieval hymnody;

3) to more widely diversify the hymns on the feasts of the Blessed Virgin (also taking them from the eastern hymnody) and of the saints so as not to have to repeat quite so often the same hymns as in the Common (“Iste confessor,” “Ave maris stella,” “Deus tuorum militum” etc.);

4) of the modern hymns, several are incomprehensible and should be replaced or modified;

5) so as to increase the variety and appeal of the hymns, could one not, someone asks, assign proper hymns to Compline according to times and certain major feasts?

And here are some particular remarks for a revision of the existing hymns:

1. In the hymn of the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, we find the word pabulum, (also found in the Comm. Mart.: “et blanda fraudum pabula”), which in good Latin, even classical and patristic Latin, means fodder, a term that is truly unbecoming to indicate the nourishment of men. The frequent elisions, as in the verse Hocostium arcaein latere est (feast of the Sacred Heart) make for an unpronounceable and unsingable hymn, and slightly less so does the hymn for Christ the King: Tutusstat ordo civicus, and the word “imagine” of the same hymn, instead of “specie” in the verse “Vini dapisque imagine,” is improper.

2. The doxology of the hymn “Ave, maris stella”:

         Sit laus Deo Patri, - Summo Christo decus,
         Spiritui Sancto, - Tribus honor unus.

should be changed to:

         Sit laus Deo Patri, - Summo Christo decus,
         Spiritui Sancto - honor, tribus unus.

since the current formulation is found in later codices (cf. Clemens BLUME, S. I., Unsere liturgischen Lieder, Regensburg 1932, p. 205), and according to the current doxology, to the Father befits the laus, to Christ the decus, while the corresponding attribute for the Holy Spirit is missing.

3. “Iesu corona celsior” (Lauds of the Commune Conf. non Pont.) should undergo a general recast. The 3rd stanza, recalling the saint’s dying day, stands in contrast to the 1st stanza of the Iste confessor, which changes the 3rd verse when it refers to the dies natalis.[2] It is also pointed out that the threefold victory over the world, the devil, and the flesh in the 4th verse is utterly elusive.[3] According to the same proponent, the first three stanzas should be completely suppressed and the remaining ones be arranged as follows: Te Christe, Hic vana, Virtute, etc.

4. In the hymn of Lauds for St Martina (30 Jan.) in the first stanza one would like to change “Thracios” (too reminiscent of the Horatian hater of enemies) to “Tartaros.”[4]

5. On the feast of the martyrs Saints Perpetua and Felicita (6 March) the hymns, unless new ones are made, should be taken from the “Commune plurium non Virginum pro aliquibus locis”: “Nobiles Christi famulas” and “Si lege prisca,” as those in the singular form of the “Commune unius non Virginis” are not fitting.

10. THE PRECES

It is called for either their suppression, or a decisive reduction in the wording of the text, or a limitation in their use. Some would want to retain only the ferial preces, others would reserve the preces dominicales for the ferias “per annum” and the Sundays of Septuagesima and Lent, and the ferial preces for the ferias of Lent and the Ember Days.—In the ℟. for the Supreme Pontiff, who is also referred to as the “Most Holy,” it is pointed out that the word “blessed” the ℟. is incongruous, whereas the ℣. already used the word “most blessed.”[5]

11. BEGINNING AND END OF THE HOURS

There is a general request for the abolition of the Pater, Ave and Credo with certain prayers immediately preceding and following (such as the Confiteor, which would be reserved for Compline only), of the Iube, domne, benedicere, at the lessons, of the Benedicite, Deus, at Prime. Some would go even further, up to the suppression of the major antiphons of Our Lady, keeping them at most for the end of Compline. For the minor Hours some propose the dropping of the short responsories. Be that as it may, a simplification in this area is certainly needed.[6] There are currently some formulas that suppose the starting of the Hour and not the continuation of prayer,[7] which is usually the case now. A whole encrustation has developed around the original canonical prayer under the impulse of private and individual piety. Most pious and holy things, no doubt, but which no one, we believe, would regret to see judiciously and wisely eliminated, so that the liturgical prayer would then shine in its native beauty, in the simplicity of its lines and the spontaneity of its expression.

Two “desiderata” will meet with general approval:

1) placing the Lord’s Prayer (Pater) not as an appendix after the Hours, but at the climax, as in the monastic rite (and in the Mass): Kyrie... Pater... oration;

2) revision of the orations: return to classical sobriety, eliminating some that are very long, with a heap of disparate ideas, containing the whole life of the saint, etc.

This series will conclude with Part 5: Observations on Certain Parts of the Office; the Octaves; Commemorations; the Rubrics; Conclusion.

[NOTES]

[1] The phrase in Italian—”la distribuzione in capitoli dell’epistola occorrente per rimediare alla monotonia”—can be translated two ways. It could mean either that the proposed change in chapter would be “[needed] in order to remedy,” or it could be the Latinism “occurring,” i.e. the Epistle falling on that Sunday would be used for the chapter at Vespers.

[2] Since the revisions of Urban VIII, the first stanza of the hymn Iste Confessor had had an alternative when it came to the 3rd and 4th verses, so that when the saint’s feast coincided with the confessor’s death day, it would sound as: Iste confessor Domini colentes / Quem pie laudant populi per orbem: / Hac die lætus meruit beatas / Scandere sedes; otherwise, the last two verses were replaced with: Hac die lætus meruit supremos / Laudis honores. In the 1955 pian revisions, this solution was dropped in favour of the latter alternative for all cases.

[3] “Hic vana terræ gáudia, / Et luculénta prǽdia, / Pollúta sorde députans, / Ovans tenet cæléstia”—Considering the vain joys and lavish goods of the world as defiled with filth, he now in triumph possesses those that are heavenly.

[4] “Tu natále solum prótege, tu bonæ / Da pacis réquiem Christíadum plagis; / Armórum strépitus, et fera prǽlia / In fines age Thrácios,” where the proposed amendment would have “In fines age Tartaros”; thus, we might add, the emphasis would be shifted from the saint’s protection from human foes to spiritual ones.

[5] ℣. Orémus pro beatíssimo Papa nostro […] ℟. Dóminus […] beátum fáciat eum […]

[6] And it was realised, with the adoption of many of the aforementioned proposals, in the 1955 and 1960 revisions.

[7] That is, the continuous recitation of multiple Hours, as by a cleric reading by himself.