The table of the Epitaphios at the end of Vespers today at St Anthony the Abbot, the Russian Greek-Catholic church in Rome.
For how shall we be able to know, I and thy people, that we have found grace in thy sight, unless thou walk with us, that we may be glorified by all people that dwell upon the earth? And the Lord said to Moses: This word also, which thou hast spoken, will I do: for thou hast found grace before me, and thee I have known by name. And he said: shew me thy glory. He answered: I will shew thee all good, and I will proclaim in the name of the Lord before thee: and I will have mercy on whom I will, and I will be merciful to whom it shall please me. And again he said: Thou canst not see my face: for man shall not see me and live. (Exodus 33, 16-20 - from the first prophecy of Vespers on Great and Holy Friday in the Byzantine Rite.)
I have been enjoying Peter Kwasniewski’s new book Close the Workshop, which argues that the old rite did not need to be fixed and that the new rite cannot be fixed. To support his argument, Kwasniewski begins with an analysis of the Second Vatican Council’s Constitution on the Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC), arguing that the document was not kidnapped later on but contains within itself timebombs that were then detonated by Archbishop Bugnini and his colleagues.
One of the fruitful ways that Kwasniewski proceeds in his task is by assembling several statements from SC that, when stripped of their reassuring context and laid bare, can be seen in a new and rather startling light. In the same spirit, and on this solemn day of Good Friday, I would like to call our attention to Article 110 of this document:
Paenitentia temporis quadragesimalis non tantum sit interna et individualis, sed quoque externa et socialis. Praxis vero paenitentialis, juxta nostrae aetatis et diversarum regionum possibilitates necnon fidelium condiciones, foveatur, et ab auctoritatibus, de quibus in art. 22, commendetur.
Sacrum tamen esto jejunium paschale, feria VI in Passione et Morte Domini ubique celebrandum et, juxta opportunitatem, etiam Sabbato sancto producendum, ut ita, elato et aperto animo, ad gaudia dominicae Resurrectionis perveniatur.
The English translation for which is:
During Lent penance should not be only internal and individual, but also external and social. The practice of penance should be fostered in ways that are possible in our own times and in different regions, and according to the circumstances of the faithful; it should be encouraged by the authorities mentioned in Art. 22.
Nevertheless, let the paschal fast be kept sacred. Let it be celebrated everywhere on Good Friday and, where possible, prolonged throughout Holy Saturday, so that the joys of the Sunday of the resurrection may be attained with uplifted and clear mind.
The first paragraph affirms the traditional teaching that corporate Lenten penances are good and that the Church has the capacity to make prudential adjustments to these penances according to place and time. But it stops short of declaring that the Church has the right to mandate fasts, using the language of encouragement (foveatur and commendetur) rather than prescription. One of the controversies of the Protestant Reformation was whether the Church has the authority to tell the faithful that they must fast on pain of sin, with figures like Zwingli vehemently maintaining that she does not. The first paragraph of SC 110 seems hesitant to condemn Zwingli’s error. It also omits any reference to the guidance of the Holy Spirit in shaping the Church’s penitential practices, which could give the impression that such practices are purely manmade or positivist.
If the first paragraph shies away from declaring all of the Church’s authority, the second paragraph swings in the opposite direction by implying that the Church, or more specifically, the Council Fathers, have the power to desecrate or de-sacralize Lent. The sentence, “Nevertheless, let the paschal fast be kept sacred,” is filled with implications. “Nevertheless” (tamen) is a disjunction that separates the “paschal fast” of Good Friday from the forty-day Lenten fast. The paschal fast alone is here deemed sacred, thereby insinuating that the Lenten fast is no longer sacred. The original Latin is even more voluntaristic than the official English translation: whereas the English “let the paschal fast be kept sacred” presumes that the paschal fast is already sacred and that the Council Fathers have graciously decided to keep it that way, the Latin original “let the paschal fast be sacred” depicts a world in which nothing is sacred unless so deemed by recognition of the Council.
The logic undergirding “Nevertheless, let the paschal fast be kept sacred” is the following. The sacred is what is set apart and generally not subject to human tinkering. But the first paragraph of SC 110, which affirms the Church’s ability to change Lenten penances, is apparently going to be used to make radical changes to the Lenten fast; instead of approaching the fast with awe and respect, the liturgical reformers plan to be aggressive and gut it. The fast’s protected status as sacred must therefore be removed before such a gutting can take place. A sacred custom that defined the season of Lent for 1,6000 years old shall be sacred no more.
That the Lenten fast was universally considered sacred prior to SC 110 there is no doubt. Every Roman-rite bishop at the Council was obliged to recite or sing during the Lenten Office of Vespers the hymn Audi Benigne Conditor, the opening verse of which is:
Audi, benigne Conditor,
Nostras preces cum fletibus,
In hoc sacro jejunio
Fusas quadragenario.
Which I translate as:
Hearken, O kind Creator,
To our prayers with our tears,
During this sacred fast,
Spread out over forty days.
Unless a High-ranking feast day intervened, every member of the Roman Rite clergy had to read these words every day from the first Saturday of Lent until the Friday of the Fourth Week of Lent, approximately twenty-eight times. Multiply this by the number of years that a man has been obliged to recite the Divine Office (since his days in the seminary), and it is not a stretch to imagine that the majority of the voting bishops knew this hymn by heart.
And if they did not, the daily orations of Lent were there to reinforce the doctrine that the fast is sacred or (which amounts to the same thing) that God and not man instituted the Lenten fast. Of the several I could have chosen, here are four:
Be mindful, O Lord, of our supplications: and grant that we may keep with devout service this solemn fast, which Thou hast wholesomely ordained for the healing of our souls and bodies. Through. –Collect, Saturday after Ash Wednesday
Of Thy goodness, we beseech Thee, O Lord, continue to help us in the observance of this holy fast, that having learned our duties from Thee, we may carry them out by the help of Thy grace. Through. –Collect, Tuesday of the Second Week in Lent
Grant, we beseech Thee, almighty God, that cleansed by this sacred fast, we may be brought by Thee with pure hearts to the holy season which is to come. Through. –Collect, Friday of the Second Week of Lent
Grant, we beseech Thee, almighty God, as year by year we keep this sacred fast with devotion, we may please Thee both in body and soul. Through. –Collect, Monday of the Fourth Week of Lent
I draw attention to this liturgical evidence not in order to condemn the 2,158 bishops who approved Sacrosanctum Concilium, but to marvel at the ingenuity of the document’s drafters, who were able to convince an overwhelming majority to turn their backs on a tradition they knew without knowing for the most part that they were doing so.
SC 110 is also important as part of the broader debate about the plight of the sacred in the wake of Vatican II. Does the new liturgy renew the sacred or undermine it? Paul VI himself seems to have been of two minds. On one hand, in a remarkable speech in 1966, he finger-wagged the Consilium in charge of the changes about reverencing the sacred, respecting tradition and a sense of history, and searching for what is best rather than what is new. And a friend of the Pope, Cardinal Antonelli, wrote in 1967 that Paul VI was “pained by a certain tendency to de-sacralize the liturgy.” On the other hand, when introducing liturgy in the vernacular, the Pope defended the innovation even though, he admitted, it means that we have become “profane intruders in the literary preserve of sacred utterance” and have sacrificed “the beauty, the power, and the expressive sacrality of Latin” (General Audience, November 26, 1969).
The liturgical reformers, incidentally, were true to the inuendoes of SC 110. In his 1966 Paenitemini, Paul VI eliminated the mandatory Lenten fast but kept the Good Friday fast “sacred.” The reformers’ new edition of the Missal reflects the new Lent that they invented. The 1962 Missal mentions, explains, and prays for the practice of fasting on every day of Lent prior to Holy Week: the traditional rite’s Preface for Lent, which is used daily from Ash Wednesday until Passiontide, is supplemented almost daily with additional references to fasting in the proper prayers. The 1969 Missal, on the other hand, retains several references to fasting on Ash Wednesday (the other mandatory fast day), but there are only two required references to the fasts of the faithful for the rest of the season. Consequently, with the exception of Ash Wednesday, the new Missal offers very little guidance on fasting and almost no prayers for its success.
“The practice of penance,” Sacrosanctum Concilium states, “should be fostered.” But if one wants regular instruction on the nature and meaning of fasting, and if, moreover, one wants priests and congregations daily praying and offering up the Holy Sacrifice for the efficacy of one’s fasts, one is better off turning to the Missal used during Vatican II rather than the one that followed it.
For our final Good Friday photopost, I saved these particularly interesting sets of images. From the FSSP apostolate in Guadalajara, Mexico, we have a live representation of the Via Crucis, and a nighttime procession with a statue of the dead Christ and the Mother of Sorrow. From the cathedral of São João del Rei in the state of Minas Gerais, Brazil, we have a deposition and burial ceremony (with a life-sized statue), and preaching on the Seven Last Words, before the main Good Friday liturgy, sent in by one of our most regular photopost contributors, Mr João Melo. We will have the liturgies of Easter within a day or so; in the meantime, have your cameras ready for the Ascension and Pentecost, and keep up the good work of evangelizing through beauty.
Nuestra Señora del Pilar – Guadalajara, Mexico (FSSP)
Once again, we are very grateful to all those who contributed to this series, which is close to ending. Don’t forget that next week we have the Rogations and the Ascension, and we will be glad to include photos of both of those celebrations in our Pentecost photopost series, so you can send yours in to photopost@newliturgicalmovement.org. Keep up the good work of evangelizing through beauty!
Epiphany of Our Lord – St Petersburg, Florida (Ukrainian Greek-Catholic)
Procession with the shroud at Vespers of Good Friday
Our Triduum photopost series continues with the ceremonies of Good Friday. There will be at least one more of these before we move on to the Easter vigil and Easter Sunday, and late submissions are always very welcome, so please feel free to send them in to photopost@newliturgicalmovement.org, remembering to include the name and location of the church. Once again, our thanks to everyone who contributed!
Assumption Grotto – Detroit, Michigan
Procession with a relic of the True Cross
Oratory of Ss Gregory and Augustine – St Louis, Missouri
One of the contributors to our station churches series this year, Fr Joseph Koczera, SJ, has kindly shared with his photographs of a few of the altars of repose in Roman churches; not a large number, because he spent most of the evening of Holy Thursday at the church of the Pontifical Russian College, for the Matins of the Twelve Gospels, one of the longest and most beautiful ceremonies in the Byzantine Rite.
Here we see the church of the Russicum, as it usually called, on one of the first days of Holy Week.
An icon of the Man of Sorrows is set up in the middle of the church, of the type known as the Bridegroom, from the opening words of the troparion of Matins: Behold the Bridegroom cometh in the midst of the night, and blessed is the servant whom He shall find watching; and again, unworthy is he whom He shall find heedless. Take care, therefore, oh my soul, lest thou be borne down with sleep, lest thou be given up to death, and be shut out of the kingdom; but rouse thyself, crying, Holy, Holy, Holy are Thou O God. Through the Mother of God, have mercy on us!
On the evening of Holy Thursday, this large cross is set in the middle of the church, and a Gospel book placed in front of it. At the Matins of Good Friday, which is very often anticipated to this evening, Twelve Gospel accounts of the Passion are added to the usual order of the service.
Although churches of the Byzantine Rite do not make an altar of the repose, the church remains open until midnight, as do the Roman Rite churches.
The term “Mass of the Presanctified” is not actually used anywhere in the Missal itself for the ceremony of Good Friday, but is commonly found in Holy Week books printed for the convenience of the clergy during the busiest week of the year. Although it is in that sense perhaps purely informal, it nevertheless gives an accurate sense of what the rite actually does and means. To the largest degree possible, this rite imitates the rite of the Mass, to signify that what it commemorates, the Sacrifice of Christ on the Cross, was anticipated at the Last Supper, and is intimately and essentially connected with it.
The celebrant wears black vestments as for a Requiem. The deacon and subdeacon, however, wear black folded chasubles, the traditional vestments of penitential seasons, which are not used at a Requiem; indeed, black folded chasubles are only used at this service. (Where they are not available, the deacon and subdeacon serve in albs and maniples, the deacon with a stole.) On these days, the Church wishes us to experience the Paschal mystery, not as a mere commemoration, but as something through which we ourselves live, accompanying the Savior. Good Friday is a day of deepest mourning, one that excludes the use of the vestments of joy, the dalmatic and tunicle, which at a Requiem speak of the hope of the Resurrection. On Good Friday, this hope is not in any way anticipated; we ourselves feel the desolation which Christ’s disciples experienced, the better to come to the joy of the Resurrection on Easter.
The Mass of the Catechumens has an extra reading, sung by a reader in surplice. It is followed by a tract, and then a prayer, which is introduced by “Oremus” sung by the priest, “Flectamus genua” by the deacon, and “Levate” by the subdeacon. These are done as they normally would be at a solemn Ember-day Mass. The subdeacon sings the second reading with the same ceremonies as at a solemn Mass, followed by a second tract. The Passion of St John is sung with the same ceremonies as those of Matthew, Mark and Luke on the previous days of Holy Week. The last part is sung like the Gospel at a Requiem, by the deacon of the Mass, without candles or incense; as at solemn Mass in penitential seasons, he replaces his folded chasuble with the broad stole.
The solemn prayers are said at the Missal on the Epistle side. After each invocation, “Oremus. Flectamus genua. Levate” are said as above by the major ministers, followed by the collects. The adoration of the Cross has no analog in the Mass, and was originally a separate ceremony; at this point, the priest and subdeacon remove their chasubles, putting them on again once they have kissed the Cross.
For the final part of the ceremony, the Blessed Sacrament is brought back from the Altar of Repose to the church’s principal altar, with a solemn procession done in reverse order from the procession of the day before. This ritual of the double procession emphasizes in the clearest way possible the connection between the Lord’s Supper and His Sacrifice upon the Cross.
At the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, the celebrant consecrates two large Hosts, one for the Mass itself, the other for the rite of the following day. One of the most beautiful aspects of the Holy Thursday ritual is the special way in which this second Host is prepared, before the celebrant’s communion. It is placed in a chalice, not in a pyx or ciborium, and then covered with a soft pall, a paten turned upside down, and a thin white chalice veil, which is then tied with a ribbon around the node of the chalice. The Host thus enclosed in the chalice is left on the corporal, until the end of the Mass, when it is brought to the Altar of Repose.
This custom of enclosing the Body of the Lord in a chalice is a sign of His Passion, which He Himself describes as a “chalice” when He goes to pray in the garden. (Matthew 26, 39-42 and Luke 22, 42.) It also serves to indicate the link between the first Mass, the Lord’s Supper, and the Sacrifice of the Cross, which takes place on the following day; the instruments of the Sacrifice of the Mass, the chalice, pall, paten and veil, are used on both days.
The Sacrament altar at the church of San Marello al Corso in Rome, Holy Thursday, 2015.
On Good Friday, therefore, after the adoration of the Cross, the priest, with all of the major and minor ministers and attending clergy, goes by the shortest way to the Altar of Repose, where he kneels down along with the deacon and subdeacon. The deacon then rises, opens the tabernacle, genuflects, and brings the chalice with the Host inside forward so that it can be clearly seen, without removing it from the tabernacle, and returns to the side of the priest. The three major ministers rise, and the priest imposes incense in two thuribles; with one of these, he incenses the Blessed Sacrament as at Benediction. He then dons the humeral veil, while the deacon goes up to the altar, and brings him the chalice with the Host inside.
All of the acolytes and attending clergy form a procession, and return to the main sanctuary of the church, while the choir sings the hymn Vexilla Regis. Immediately before the priest, who holds the chalice under the humeral veil, two acolytes take turns incensing the Blessed Sacrament.
When they arrive before the main altar, the deacon receives the Sacrament from the priest, takes It up to the altar, and unties the ribbon which holds the veil on the chalice. He then arranges the veil, without removing it from the chalice, in the same way that a chalice is set upon the altar for the celebration of Mass: another clear sign of the connection between the Mass and the death of Christ upon the Cross. The priest incenses the Sacrament once again, and the “Rite of the Presanctified” properly so-called begins.
The major ministers go up to the altar and genuflect. The deacon removes the chalice veil, paten and soft pall, then holds the paten with two hands over the corporal. The priest takes the chalice, and allows the Host to slide from it onto the paten, then puts it down. He receives the paten from the deacon and places the Host upon the corporal. The deacon puts wine in the chalice, and the subdeacon a drop of water, as at Mass. The deacon gives the chalice to the priest, who places it in the middle of the corporal, and covers it with the pall. All of the Offertory prayers and gestures are omitted.
As at the Offertory of Mass, the thurifer comes to the priest, who imposes incense without blessing it, and, accompanied in the usual way by the deacon and subdeacon, incenses the Host and chalice, Cross and altar as at a Solemn Mass, genuflecting whenever he passes before the Sacrament. (Neither he nor anyone else is incensed.) Then he washes his hands, as at a normal Mass, but saying nothing.
Returning to the middle of the altar, with the deacon and subdeacon in line behind him, the priest says the Offertory prayer “In spiritu humilitatis”; he then kisses the altar, turns to the people and says “Orate fratres”. The response “Suscipiat” is not said, and the priest does not complete the usual turn in a circle. As the rubrics of the Missal say, he “omits the rest”, (Secret, Preface, Sanctus and Canon), and passes directly to “Oremus. Praeceptis salutaribus.” and the Lord’s Prayer, sung in the ferial tone. He then sings the embolism “Libera nos” out loud, also in the ferial tone, omitting all of the gestures which normally accompany it.
The deacon and subdeacon kneel on either side of the priest, slightly back from where he stands; as the priest solemnly elevates the Host, they lift his chasuble, and in place of the bell, the “crepitaculum” or noisemaker is sounded. The deacon and subdeacon rise, and the deacon uncovers the chalice. The priest performs the Fraction of the Host, saying nothing and omitting the signs of the Cross. Bowing over the altar, he says the prayer “Perceptio corporis tui”; following the usual rite of Mass, he communicates with the Sacred Host. He then consumes the chalice with the wine and the Particle in it, omitting the usual rites.
All of this follows, step by step, the rite of the Offertory of the Mass, and the prayers of the celebrant’s communion after the Canon. Obviously, all of those elements which refer specifically to the celebration of the Eucharistic sacrifice are omitted, along with the Canon itself. (The fraction, however, is done after the Embolism, not during, since the latter is sung aloud.) Here we have another clear sign of the sacrificial nature of the death of Christ. The rubrics of the Missal underline this principal that the rite is modeled on the rite of Mass; everything in them is described in reference to the practice of the normal celebration of Mass.
The priest purifies the chalice and his fingers; the subdeacon then restacks the chalice, and the deacon removes the broad stole and vests again in the folded chasuble, again, all as at a solemn Mass. Since it is a longstanding custom of the Church that only the celebrant receives communion on this day, at this point the liturgy is effectively completed and the priest, the major and minor ministers, and the attending clergy return to the sacristy in silence.
This brings us to the second major point of the ceremony, the silence of the congregation, and the relative silence of the ceremony as a whole. The parts that are said aloud consist almost entirely of the words of Scripture and the prayers, sung by the clergy, and the choir’s parts.
This is the only day of the year on which no part of the Ordinary of the Mass is used, these being the parts most easily sung by the people. The first two lessons are sung without title or “Deo gratias” at the end. The prayer is introduced by a formula that does not require the congregation to answer “Et cum spiritu tuo.” “Gloria tibi, Domine”, and “Laus tibi, Christe” are not said at the Passion. At the solemn prayers, the only word not sung by the major ministers is “Amen.”
At the presentation of the Cross, the major ministers sing “Behold the wood of the Cross, on which hung the salvation of the world”, to which the choir answers “Come, let us adore;” this and the Vexilla regis are really the only parts of the ceremony that some portion of the people will likely be able to sing along with. The two tracts and the Improperia are certainly too complex for popular participation, and during the latter, the people are coming forth to kiss the Cross. To sum up, therefore, the only words which the majority of the congregation will certainly be able to sing are “Amen” and “Sed libera nos a malo.”
The first tract of the ceremony is taken from the song of the Prophet Habakkuk (the whole of his third chapter), according to the Old Latin translation of the Septuagint: “O Lord, I heard Thy report, and was afraid: I considered thy works, and was amazed.” These echo the famous prophecy of Isaiah known as that of the Suffering Servant (chapter 53), “Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?” The tract continues with the words, “thou shalt be known between two living creatures”; the “two living creatures” were first understood by St Augustine as the two thieves crucified alongside the Lord.
The silence of the congregation expresses this fear and amazement, as we behold the Lord and Creator of the world hung on the Cross, as the sun itself withdraws and the earth trembles at His death, and the tract continues “when my soul is troubled, Thou wilt in wrath remember mercy.” The Byzantine liturgy elaborates upon this point continually, as for example at the first hymn at Vespers of Good Friday; “All creation was changed by fear, when it saw Thee, o Christ, hanging upon the Cross; the sun was darkened, and the foundations of the earth were shaken. All things suffered with Him that created all things; o Lord, who did willingly suffer for us, glory to Thee!”
The final point to note is the fact that Communion is not distributed to the faithful at this ceremony. The “communion” which is received that day is the kissing of the Cross, for which the faithful come forth to the area of the sanctuary as they did the previous day at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper. Their participation in the Paschal mystery is vividly represented by following as closely as possible those members of the Church who lived it first, the disciples of Christ, who also received Communion on Holy Thursday. Good Friday is likewise lived as the disciples lived it, as a day of lamentation, without the grace of Communion, but with the grace of staying close by the Cross, like the Virgin and St John. This relatively late practice of the Roman Rite is in harmony with the broader tradition of the historical Christian rites. To this day, the Ambrosian rite maintains the custom of having no ritual involving the Eucharist on Good Friday at all; likewise, the Byzantine Rite has the kissing of the shroud of Christ, but no sort of Eucharistic ritual.
It is of signal importance to note here that the ritual of the Presanctified also represents this by having a fraction rite which is, so to speak, incomplete, because the particle is dropped into unconsecrated wine. At a normal Mass, the Fraction rite, the reunion of Christ’s Body with the Blood shed for our redemption, represents the Resurrection; on Good Friday, the Resurrection is not made manifest, because the Body is broken, but not reunited with the Blood.
It is also worth noting in this regard that the rubrics of the Missal of St Pius V, and subsequent decrees of the S.R.C. in regard to the ceremony, assume that the same Cross, which comes from the main altar, is kissed by the clergy and all of the faithful. Likewise, the S.R.C. strongly prohibited all attempts at having any kind of Eucharistic adoration or procession on Good Friday, where such customs had arisen as a matter of popular piety.
This is the fifth article in an ongoing series (part 1, part 2, part 3.1, part 3.2), the first part of which explains the meaning of the terms “Torah” and “haftarah” in the context of the Jewish liturgy, and its influence on some very ancient parts of the Roman lectionary.
Long before the post-Conciliar Rite was invented, it was widely, perhaps universally, believed that the Roman Rite had originally had three readings at every Mass. [1] It is a testament (one of many) to the absolutely dire state of liturgical scholarship in the 19th and 20th centuries that this idea was accepted, despite the absence of even a single Roman lectionary which has three readings on a regular basis, or a single reference to such a custom in the writings of any of the Roman Church Fathers. But it was, unfortunately, an idea very much in harmony with the mentality of the times, also evidenced in many other fields of study. The notion which underlies it is that the Church’s “authentic” and “original” (such words to conjure with!) liturgy is not to be found in its actual sources, no matter how ancient those sources might be, and no matter how widely and consistently said customs are attested in them. Rather, the “authentic” and “original” liturgy is to be found in reconstructions of what scholars believed, or wanted to believe, things must have been like before the period from which we have our earliest sources.
The first two readings from the Prophet Isaiah on the Ember Saturday in Advent, in the so-called Lectionary of Alcuin, an epistolary of the 9th century whose contents represent the state of the Roman lectionary in the early 7th century. (Bibliothèque nationale de France, Département des Manuscrits, Latin 9452.)
Well might one wonder how this idea could have been accepted in the absence of a lectionary that attests to it. Many reconstructions of the early liturgy are purely theoretical, but many others derive from real facts and sources, badly understood and interpreted, and the three-readings theory is one of the latter. I outlined these facts and sources, and explained how they were understood and interpreted to arrive at it, in an article published here in November of 2013.
One of the lynchpins of the argument is the presence of such a set of readings on only seven days: Good Friday, and the Wednesdays of the Embertides, of the fourth week of Lent, and of Holy Week. These were understood to be holdovers of a more ancient practice formerly part of every Mass, which is why Fr Adrian Fortescue writes, in the original Catholic Encyclopedia entry on Lessons in the Liturgy, “The Roman Rite also certainly once had these three lessons at every Mass.”
The post-Conciliar rite is nothing if not ironic, a term which derives from the Greek word “eironeia – feigning or dissembling.” Feigning to restore the Roman Rite’s supposed ancient and original custom of having three readings at every Mass [2], it appoints three readings at … some Masses, namely, those of Sundays, solemnities, Ash Wednesday, Holy Thursday and Good Friday, but only those. (The Easter vigil and the longer form of the Pentecost vigil, which have several Old Testament readings before the Epistle, are exceptions to the general order.)
The ferial lectionary was then rearranged in such a way that not one of the seven days listed above kept its original Old Testament readings, the very ones used to justify the theory that a three-reading system was the Roman Church’s original custom. This happened, of course, partly as a function of the suppression of the Ember days, which are indisputably among the Roman Rite’s most ancient features. Of the 14 readings in question, three were completely deleted from the lectionary, and the other eleven were moved; some of the latter were also altered by lengthening, shortening, or censoring.
To the best of my knowledge, no one has ever claimed that the Ember Saturdays, which have five Old Testament readings before the Epistle, were anything other than a special exception. Since they all share the same fifth reading, there are a total of 17 such readings between them. Eight of these were suppressed in the post-Conciliar lectionary, eight moved to a different day (all but one of them also altered in various ways, although one only very slightly), and only one left in its place, but slightly shortened.
These changes, which were, of course, in no way, shape or form countenanced by Sacrosanctum Concilium, disperse all of the pairs of lessons which derive from the Jewish liturgical custom of reading the Law and the Prophets together, the subject of this series. I hasten to add that this does not seem to have been done with any deliberate animus against Jewish influence on the Roman liturgy per se, but solely as a result of the callous zeal for efficiency and uniformity which taints so much of the reform. [4] Nevertheless, where the Psalmist says, “I am become a stranger to my brethren, and an alien to the sons of my mother,” the post-Conciliar liturgy, which routinely does no less outrage to his work, can rightly say, “I have made myself a stranger to my brethren, and an alien to the sons of my mother.”
The bishops and prelates of the world at Vatican II, busily not even remotely thinking about suppressing the Ember days.
Notes:
[1] In his memoire, Archbishop Bugnini describes the three-reading system as “a return to the authentic, primitive tradition attested at Rome until the 5th century, and preserved at Milan etc.” (p. 416 of the Italian edition.) On August 20, 1965, in notes taken in French by the secretary of Coetus XI, the subcommittee responsible for the revision of the lectionary, we find the statement that “The Gallican tradition and the Ambrosian Rite have remained more faithful to the ancient Roman tradition.”
[2] While purportedly “restoring” the Roman lectionary, Coetus XI also effectively abolished it in October of 1966, when its members resolved unanimously not to consider themselves bound to retain what they tendentiously described as the “current” lectionary cycle, then in use for well over a millennium, “the grave deficiencies of which are admitted by all.”
[3] The Fridays of the third week of Lent, and of the 14th week of Ordinary time in year 2.
[4] My thanks to Matthew Hazell for checking what was said about this topic in the vota (requests) of the world’s bishops on proposals for liturgical reform, submitted to the Roma Curia Vatican in preparation for Vatican II.
This is the fourth article in an ongoing series (part 1, part 2, part 3.1), the first part of which explains the meaning of the terms “Torah” and “haftarah” in the context of the Jewish liturgy, and its influence on some very ancient parts of the Roman lectionary.
On the Ember Saturdays of Lent and September, the third reading is the haftarah of the first, and the fourth of the second. On the last day of Pentecost, however, the order is reversed, as also on the Ember Wednesday of September: the first reading is from a prophet, and the third from the Law. It seems likely that the lesson from the prophet Joel (chapter 2, 28-32), is given pride of place because the Apostle St Peter quotes him in his sermon on the very first Christian Pentecost. “I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy: your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions. … upon my servants and handmaids … I will pour forth my spirit, and I will show wonders in heaven…” (Acts 2, 17-21)
The corresponding reading from Deuteronomy 26 (1-3b and 7b-11a) instructs the Israelites on the offering of their first fruits to the Lord, who “brought (them) out of Egypt with a strong hand, and with arm outstretched, with great terror, with signs and wonders.” From the most ancient times, the Church has understood the crossing of the Red Sea, at which God worked these signs and wonders, as a symbol of baptism. The Roman Church therefore reads the story from Exodus (14, 24 – 15, 1, with its canticle) at the vigil of both of its great baptismal feasts, Easter and Pentecost. One week after the latter, She reminds us that in the Old Testament, both the Law and the Prophets bear witness to the signs and wonders which God has done, and above all, in the conversion of the nations, which began at Pentecost.
On the other hand, the second and fourth readings are both taken from the book of Leviticus, breaking the Torah/haftarah pattern. The former, a selection of verses from chapter 23, prescribes the manner of offering first fruits at Pentecost, and the latter, chapter 26, 3-12, is a promise that God will grant the fruitfulness of the earth and the defense of the land, if the people “walk in (His) precepts and keep (His) commandments.” In the annual Jewish liturgical cycle of Torah readings, the “parashoth” (sections) to which these passages belong will generally be read around the same time as Pentecost, from mid-May to mid-June, so it seems likely that this choice was also made in imitation of the custom of the synagogue.
The Ember Wednesday and Saturday of Advent, and the Wednesdays of the fourth week of Lent, of Holy Week, and of Pentecost, all have more than one reading before the Gospel, but these do not fit the Torah / haftarah pattern either. Thus, there remains only one last Mass to consider among those that do fit the pattern, the Mass of the Presanctified on Good Friday.
Here again, the order is reversed from that of the Jewish tradition, with the Prophet before the Law: the first reading is Hosea 6, 1-6, and the second, Exodus 12, 1-11.
St Jerome begins his commentary on Hosea by saying, “If we need the Holy Spirit to come to us when explaining any of the prophets, … how much more must we pray the Lord (to help us) in explaining Hosea… especially since he himself attests to the obscurity of his book at the end, where he writes, ‘Who is wise and shall understand these things, intelligent and shall know them?’ ” Such a mysterious book is eminently appropriate for a day of such ineffable mysteries, when the Church stands present at the death of the Creator Himself.
The Prophet Habakkuk, by Girolamo Romanino, from the Sacrament Chapel of the church of St John the Evangelist in Brescia, Italy (1521-4). The quotation on the banderole, the opening words of the canticle, follows the Old Latin text, which was translated from the Septuagint, rather than the Vulgate version of St. Jerome.
“... He will revive us after two days: on the third day he will raise us up, and we shall live in his sight. We shall know, and we shall follow on, that we may know the Lord. … For I desired mercy, and not sacrifice: and the knowledge of God more than holocausts.” This is explained by the words of the tract which follows, taken from Habakkuk 3 according to the Old Latin translation of the Septuagint: “O Lord, I heard Thy report, and was afraid: I considered thy works, and was amazed. Between two living creatures Thou shalt be known”. The “two living creatures” were first understood by St Augustine to be the two thieves crucified alongside the Lord; the tract therefore shows us that we attain to “the knowledge of God” in beholding the Crucified Lord. And likewise, as Hosea says “For I desired mercy…”, the tract says “in wrath Thou shalt remember mercy,” an expression of the idea, “a scandal to the Jews, and foolishness to the gentiles,” that God’s supreme act of mercy was to undergo His Passion, in the very midst of which He prayed for the forgiveness of those who inflicted it upon Him.
The second reading from Exodus 12 describes the slaying of the Paschal Lamb under the Old Law, which was of course taking place in Jerusalem even as Christ was in the midst of the Passion. This choice is grounded in the Christian understanding of Jesus as the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, of whom St Paul writes, “Christ our Pasch has been sacrificed”; but also, in the very nature of the ancient Good Friday ceremony, the vivid representation of the death of Lord, for which we are truly present.
Two readings, one from the Law and one from the Prophets, are therefore united as witnesses to the Passion, just as Moses and Elijah appeared at the beginning of Lent as witnesses to the Transfiguration.
Lastly, then, we may cite some of the many passages in which the Lord Himself and the authors of the New Testament refer to this custom of the two readings, the Torah and the haftarah.
Do not think that I am come to destroy the Law, or the Prophets. I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill. (Matthew 5, 17)
All things therefore whatsoever you would that men should do to you, do you also to them. For this is the Law and the Prophets. (7, 12)
On these two commandments dependeth the whole Law and the Prophets. (22, 40)
If they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they believe, if one rise again from the dead. (Luke 16, 31)
And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he expounded to them in all the Scriptures, the things that were concerning Him. … all things must needs be fulfilled, which are written in the Law of Moses, and in the Prophets, and in the Psalms, concerning me. (24, 27 and 44)
Christ and the Two Disciples on the Road to Emmaus (the occasion on which the first part of the citation above is spoken by the Lord), 1560-65, by the Italian painter Lelio Orsi (1508/11-87). Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.
We have found him of whom Moses in the Law, and the Prophets did write, Jesus the son of Joseph of Nazareth. (John 1, 45)
And after the reading of the Law and the Prophets, the rulers of the synagogue sent to them. … the voices of the Prophets, which are read every sabbath… (Acts 13, 15 and 27)
so do I serve the Father and my God, believing all things which are written in the Law and the Prophets… (24, 14)
But now without the law the justice of God is made manifest, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets. (Romans 3, 21)
Caligavérunt óculi mei a fletu meo: quia elongátus est a me, qui consolabátur me: Vidéte omnes pópuli,
* Si est dolor símilis sicut dolor meus. V. O vos omnes, qui transítis per viam, atténdite et vidéte. Si est dolor ... Caligavérunt ... (The ninth responsory of Tenebrae on Good Friday.)
R. My eyes have grown dark with my weeping, because He is departed from me, Who did console me; See, all ye peoples, * if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow. V. All ye that pass by the way, behold, and see, if there be... My eyes...
Tomás Luís de Victoria’s setting, sung by The Sixteen
Here are some images for these three days for your mediation. First, Good Friday: The crucifixion of Christ, an illumination by the Master of St. Veronica (German, active about 1395 - 1415).
I chose this for the beautiful flow in the lines of drapery around the forlorn figure of Our Lady. The artist has eliminated any sense of depth, as a more conventional iconographer would, by putting the blue and gold patterned background around the figures. The flatness is deliberate, the lack of three dimensionality in the image evokes heaven which is outside time and space.
Next, we have what in the Byzantine Rite Churches is called the Resurrection Icon, and in the Roman Church might also be referred to as the Harrowing of Hell. This image speaks of Christ’s descent in Hades and so is appropriate for Holy Saturday.
A Western rendering of the same, by the 15th century Italian artist Fra Angelico.
There is a fascinating account of the development of this image in Aidan Hart’s excellent book Festal Icons, which I recommend everyone to read if they can. He describes how the prototype for the iconographic image actually appeared first in Rome in the 8th century (perhaps with great influence from Byzantine Christians who were present there at the time). He suggests that one reason that the prototype of the Resurrection in this form was so late in emerging was that it was developed to reinforce the assertion, against the heresies of monothelitism and monoenergism, which were prevalent at the time, that Christ descended into hell as the single person, in two natures, divine and human. The image shows the Resurrected Christ bodily descending into Hell to draw out those who might be themselves bodily resurrected. It is therefore as much an icon of the resurrection of mankind as it is of Christ. Adam and Eve are present, and typically Christ, the new Adam, reaches down to draw up the old Adam. He has trampled down the doors of Hades and discarded the instruments of his death, such as the nails. In the iconographic version, there might also be present Kings David and Solomon, St John the Baptist, Abel the Just shown as a young man with a shepherd’s crook, Isaiah, and other patriarchs and prophets.
I like the connection between the good shepherd, Abel from the book of Genesis, and Christ, the Good Shepherd, and the shepherds who observe the Nativity as a thread that runs through these Biblical events.
The Fra Angelico version has the devil skulking away stage left!
This image makes the transition into Easter itself. In the words of the Exultet, the hymn sung in the Easter Vigil:
This is the night, when Christ broke the prison-bars of death and rose victorious from the underworld. Our birth would have been no gain, had we not been redeemed.
Illustrated scrolls of the Exultet, such as the Barberini Exultet Roll created in Italy in the 11th century have the Harrowing of Hell to illustrate these lines.
Finally we have a Resurrection image, which developed in the Roman Church from about the 12th century onwards. Here is an English relief carving in alabaster from the 14th century.
Christ emerges from the tomb, trampling on the guards as he does so, again by Fra Angelico.
Then (Pilate) delivered Him to them to be crucified. And they took Jesus, and led him forth, and bearing His own cross, He went forth to that place which is called Calvary, but in Hebrew Golgotha, where they crucified Him, and with Him two others, one on each side, and Jesus in the midst. ... When Jesus therefore had seen His Mother and the disciple standing whom He loved, He saith to His Mother, “Woman, behold thy son.” After that, He saith to the disciple, “Behold thy mother.” And from that hour, the disciple took her to his own. Afterwards, Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the Scripture might be fulfilled, said, “I thirst.” Now there was a vessel set there full of vinegar. And they, putting a sponge full of vinegar and hyssop, put it to his mouth. Jesus therefore, when He had taken the vinegar, said, “It is finished.” And bowing His head, He gave up the ghost.
And after these things, Joseph of Arimathea (because he was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews) besought Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus. And Pilate gave leave. He came therefore, and took the body of Jesus. And Nicodemus also came, (he who at the first came to Jesus by night,) bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about an hundred pound weight. They took therefore the body of Jesus, and bound it in linen cloths, with the spices, as the manner of the Jews is to bury. Now there was in the place where he was crucified, a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein no man yet had been laid. There, therefore, because of the preparation day of the Jews, they laid Jesus, because the sepulchre was nigh at hand.
Pages of the Gospel book of the Holy Roman Emperor Henry II, made ca. 1007-12 at the Abbey of Reichenau; BSB Hss Clm 4452
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