The “Prophecies” of St Malachy

In Ireland, today is the feast of St Malachy, one of the great ecclesiastical reformers of the 12th century. He served for a time as Primate of Ireland in the very ancient See of Armagh, established by St Patrick himself, but later resigned that office, and ended his life as bishop of Down. The revised Butler’s Lives of the Saints sums up his career by likening him to St Theodore of Canterbury, who lived half a millennium before him, and gave a permanent form to the organization of the Church in England. His feast is also kept by various congregations of canons regular, since the reform movement of which he was such an important figure was very much concerned with restoring discipline to the lives of such congregations, and cathedral canons as well. He was a close personal friend of St Bernard, and actually died in his arms after a brief illness while visiting Clairvaux Abbey, on All Souls’ Day of 1148. Bernard was so convinced of Malachy’s sanctity that when celebrating his funeral, he sang the Post-Communion prayer of a Confessor Bishop instead of that of the Requiem Mass; he later wrote his biography, and for these reasons, the Cistercians also have Malachy on their calendar. Bernard’s judgment was formally confirmed by Pope Clement III in 1190; Ireland had, of course, a great many Saints before then, but Malachy was the very first to be formally recognized as such by a Pope.

A statue of St Malachy on the outside of Armagh Cathedral. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by Andreas F. Borchert, CC BY-SA 4.0)

It is a pity that a man who fully deserves to be honored alongside his contemporaries like Ss Bernard and Norbert as a great Church reformer is now known principally as the putative author of a manifestly fraudulent series of “prophecies” about the Popes. In a happier world, the fact that Bernard says nothing about them would suffice to discredit them utterly. They consist of brief phrases in Latin which purportedly tell something about the men who will be elected Pope, from the Saint’s contemporary Celestine II (who reigned for less than 5½ months in 1143-44) to “Peter the Roman,” 111 Popes later. They were first brought to the attention of the world in 1595 by a Benedictine monk named Arnold de Wion, who attributed them to St Malachy without saying on what grounds, and indeed, without saying where they came from. It was not until 1871 that a French priest named Cucherat claimed, on the basis of no known evidence, that Malachy had delivered them to Celestine II’s predecessor, Innocent II, while visiting Rome to fetch the pallia of the two Irish metropolitans. They were then deposited in the Papal archives, and somehow completely forgotten for about 450 years. 

The general opinion of those who have studied the matter is that they were concocted to sway the conclave held in late 1590 after the sudden death of Urban VII, who was Pope for only 13 days, the shortest reign in Papal history. From Celestine II to Urban VII, they are extremely and obviously accurate, usually referring to the Popes’ family names. For example, before his election to the Papacy, Celestine II was called Guido de Castello, since he was from a town in Umbria called Città di Castello, which is on the Tiber river; the first “prophecy” is “de castello Tiberis - from the castle of the Tiber.” Starting in 1590, however, they become as vague as the so-called prophecies of another 16th century luminary in the field, Nostradamus. Pius VIII (1829-30), for example, corresponds to “vir religiosus - a religious man” (we should hope so!), and Pius XII to “pastor angelicus - an angelic shepherd.” Others are manifestly incorrect, such as Clement XIII (1758-69), a Venetian nobleman who corresponds to “Rose of Umbria.” This has given rise to some very embarrassing and convoluted explanations of how the “prophecies” fit their respective Popes. Clement XIII canonized one Franciscan, Joseph of Cupertino, and beatified two others, and the Franciscan Order was founded by an Umbrian...

It is certainly true that some of the purported prophecies do correspond plausibly in one way or another to their respective Popes, as they inevitably must, given their vagueness. Pope Leo XIII (1878-1903) corresponds to “lumen in caelo - a light in heaven”, which may be seen as a reference to the comet in his coat-of-arms, and six Popes later, “flos florum - flower of flowers” may be seen as a reference to the fleurs-de-lys (an extremely common heraldic device) in the arms of Paul VI.

The Papal coat-of-arms of Pope Leo XIII

The tradition of taking a different name on election to the Papacy is sometimes said to have begun with John II in 533, who was previously called Mercury, and changed his name because he felt it was unseemly for a Pope to have the name of a pagan god. In point of fact, this was an anomaly, and would not happen again for almost half a millennium, when one “Peter Pig-mouth” (Pietro Bocca di Porco) was elected in 1009, and, deeming it inappropriate to be called “Peter II”, changed his name to Sergius IV.

What really established the tradition was the great reform movement that began in the mid-11th century, in which St Malachy would be so prominent. Starting in 1046, the Popes began reviving the names of their ancient and sainted predecessors such as Clement, Damasus, and Victor, as a sign that after the long decadence of the later-9th to mid-11th centuries, the Papacy was now returning to the glorious ages of the past. From 1046 to 1145, thirteen of the eighteen Popes were “second of that name”, followed by eight “thirds” out of eleven from 1145 to 1227. (The last Pope to keep his baptismal name, Marcellus II, died in 1555 on the 22nd day of his reign, sealing the custom with just a little bit of superstitious fear.) But of course, no Pope has ever chosen the name of St Peter, and there is a rather superstitious tradition that the last Pope will be the Anti-Christ, and call himself Peter.

The Preaching of the Anti-Christ, 1499-1502, by Luca Signorelli (1441 ca. - 1523); in the chapel of St Brice in the cathedral of Orvieto, Italy (1499-1502). The Anti-Christ is the figure on the podium slightly to the right of the lower middle, with the devil whispering in his ear; working in an era that hung less on every word and whim of the Pope than our own, Signorelli shows him with facial features like those of Christ, but distorted, since he is the anti-Christ, not the anti-Pope.

This is also reflected in (and perhaps arises from) the supposed “prophecies” of St Malachy, the last of which is “Peter the Roman”, qualified as follows: “In the last persecution of the Holy Roman Church, there will sit Peter the Roman, who will pasture his sheep in many tribulations; and these being finished, the city of seven hills will be destroyed, and the dreadful judge will judge his people.” However, the so-called prophecy does not say that there will be no Popes between “Peter the Roman”, which corresponds to Pope Francis (whose baptismal name is George, and whose family is from the north of Italy, not Rome), and the penultimate entry on the list. Therefore, when the current Papacy ends, if the world does not end as well, and Francis’ successor is elected, we will be left in the dark for the future... or rather, just as much in the dark as we have been all along.

Irish Musings on the Rebirth of the Traditional Mass

Several people have brought this to my attention in the last couple of days, a beautiful reminiscence posted on Reddit about the collapse of religious practice in Ireland, and the writer’s reversion at a very young age through the discovery of the traditional Mass. (The New Pentecost™ has been especially harsh in Ireland; I recently read that in this past year, more bishops were ordained there than priests.) In accordance with the standards of fair use, here are a few excerpts. If the author should chance to read this: I would be very glad to repost your lovely piece in full, with your permission. If you are amenable to this, please contact me at gdipippo@newliturgicalmovement.org.

“I can only describe the Ireland I was born into with the cliché that the past is a different country. As a baby of the nineties, I caught the last breaths of ‘Catholic Ireland’. I remember the dread and spite at being awakened each Sunday for Mass. You had to arrive half an hour before Mass to hope to get a seat and then endure the boredom of ‘Shine Jesus Shine’ and corny jokes from Father Trendy in the pulpit. ...

When I was nine, something strange happened. ... one Sunday I appeared in the kitchen dressed for Mass only to be told to change and go outside and play. I cannot express the joy I had at that moment. It was like a snow day off school and I quickly joined about half my friends whose families had also stopped going to church. I would have sang halleluias to God for getting out of that despised rite if I had believed in him.

On the Feast of the Immaculate Conception 2002, we went to Dublin, as we always did, to do our Christmas Shopping. ... I hated, and continue to hate, shopping with such zealotry that my Mother would allow me to wander the city’s museums and churches unattended knowing me to be wary and sensible, while she got to shopping in nearby shops. Whilst she browsed the stalls, I popped into an old, run-down, church. I always lit a candle on Immaculate Conception for my grandmother since it was her birthday and, as an 11 year old boy, playing with fire was really only acceptable if you were lighting candles for your granny.

I walked in and there I saw my first traditional Mass.

I had no idea what was going on, I had no inkling that it was even a Mass but I was in complete enchantment. Somehow, in the midst of the dust and the damp, and the spattering of grannies with headscarves and lace doilies, and the elderly man who croaked Latin chant alone in the loft above me, I knew God existed and was there in that spotless host that the old priest touched with such awe, such respect and love.”

From a post in December of 2016, an Irish priest of the Institute of Christ the King offering his first Mass at the church of St Kevin in Dublin.

The “Prophecies” of St Malachy

In Ireland, today is the feast of St Malachy, one of the great ecclesiastical reformers of the 12th century. He served for a time as Primate of Ireland in the very ancient See of Armagh, established by St Patrick himself, but later resigned that office, and ended his life as bishop of Down. The revised Butler’s Lives of the Saints sums up his career by likening him to St Theodore of Canterbury, who lived half a millennium before him, and gave a permanent form to the organization of the Church in England. His feast is also kept by various congregations of canons regular, since the reform movement of which he was such an important figure was very much concerned with restoring discipline to the lives of such congregations, and cathedral canons as well. He was a close personal friend of St Bernard, and actually died in his arms after a brief illness while visiting Clairvaux Abbey, on All Souls’ Day of 1148. Bernard was so convinced of Malachy’s sanctity that when celebrating his funeral, he sang the Post-Communion prayer of a Confessor Bishop instead of that of the Requiem Mass; he later wrote his biography, and for these reasons, the Cistercians also have Malachy on their calendar. Bernard’s judgment was formally confirmed by Pope Clement III in 1190; Ireland had, of course, a great many Saints before then, but Malachy was the very first to be formally recognized as such by a Pope.

A statue of St Malachy on the outside of Armagh Cathedral. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by Andreas F. Borchert, CC BY-SA 4.0)

It is a pity that a man who fully deserves to be honored alongside his contemporaries like Ss Bernard and Norbert as a great Church reformer is now known principally as the putative author of a manifestly fraudulent series of “prophecies” about the Popes. In a happier world, the fact that Bernard says nothing about them would suffice to discredit them utterly. They consist of brief phrases in Latin which purportedly tell something about the men who will be elected Pope, from the Saint’s contemporary Celestine II (who reigned for less than 5½ months in 1143-44) to “Peter the Roman,” 111 Popes later. They were first brought to the attention of the world in 1595 by a Benedictine monk named Arnold de Wion, who attributed them to St Malachy without saying on what grounds, and indeed, without saying where they came from. It was not until 1871 that a French priest named Cucherat claimed, on the basis of no known evidence, that Malachy had delivered them to Celestine II’s predecessor, Innocent II, while visiting Rome to fetch the pallia of the two Irish metropolitans. They were then deposited in the Papal archives, and somehow completely forgotten for about 450 years. 

The general opinion of those who have studied the matter is that they were concocted to sway the conclave held in late 1590 after the sudden death of Urban VII, who was Pope for only 13 days, the shortest reign in Papal history. From Celestine II to Urban VII, they are extremely and obviously accurate, usually referring to the Popes’ family names. For example, before his election to the Papacy, Celestine II was called Guido de Castello, since he was from a town in Umbria called Città di Castello, which is on the Tiber river; the first “prophecy” is “de castello Tiberis - from the castle of the Tiber.” Starting in 1590, however, they become as vague as the so-called prophecies of another 16th century luminary in the field, Nostradamus. Pius VIII (1829-30), for example, corresponds to “vir religiosus - a religious man” (we should hope so!), and Pius XII to “pastor angelicus - an angelic shepherd.” Others are manifestly incorrect, such as Clement XIII (1758-69), a Venetian nobleman who corresponds to “Rose of Umbria.” This has given rise to some very embarrassing and convoluted explanations of how the “prophecies” fit their respective Popes. Clement XIII canonized one Franciscan, Joseph of Cupertino, and beatified two others, and the Franciscan Order was founded by an Umbrian...

It is certainly true that some of the purported prophecies do correspond plausibly in one way or another to their respective Popes, as they inevitably must, given their vagueness. Pope Leo XIII (1878-1903) corresponds to “lumen in caelo - a light in heaven”, which may be seen as a reference to the comet in his coat-of-arms, and six Popes later, “flos florum - flower of flowers” may be seen as a reference to the fleurs-de-lys (an extremely common heraldic device) in the arms of Paul VI.

The Papal coat-of-arms of Pope Leo XIII

The tradition of taking a different name on election to the Papacy is sometimes said to have begun with John II in 533, who was previously called Mercury, and changed his name because he felt it was unseemly for a Pope to have the name of a pagan god. In point of fact, this was an anomaly, and would not happen again for almost half a millennium, when one “Peter Pig-mouth” (Pietro Bocca di Porco) was elected in 1009, and, deeming it inappropriate to be called “Peter II”, changed his name to Sergius IV.

What really established the tradition was the great reform movement that began in the mid-11th century, in which St Malachy would be so prominent. Starting in 1046, the Popes began reviving the names of their ancient and sainted predecessors such as Clement, Damasus, and Victor, as a sign that after the long decadence of the later-9th to mid-11th centuries, the Papacy was now returning to the glorious ages of the past. From 1046 to 1145, thirteen of the eighteen Popes were “second of that name”, followed by eight “thirds” out of eleven from 1145 to 1227. (The last Pope to keep his baptismal name, Marcellus II, died in 1555 on the 22nd day of his reign, sealing the custom with just a little bit of superstitious fear.) But of course, no Pope has ever chosen the name of St Peter, and there is a rather superstitious tradition that the last Pope will be the Anti-Christ, and call himself Peter.

The Preaching of the Anti-Christ, 1499-1502, by Luca Signorelli (1441 ca. - 1523); in the chapel of St Brice in the cathedral of Orvieto, Italy (1499-1502). The Anti-Christ is the figure on the podium slightly to the right of the lower middle, with the devil whispering in his ear; working in an era that hung less on every word and whim of the Pope than our own, Signorelli shows him with facial features like those of Christ, but distorted, since he is the anti-Christ, not the anti-Pope.

This is also reflected in (and perhaps arises from) the supposed “prophecies” of St Malachy, the last of which is “Peter the Roman”, qualified as follows: “In the last persecution of the Holy Roman Church, there will sit Peter the Roman, who will pasture his sheep in many tribulations; and these being finished, the city of seven hills will be destroyed, and the dreadful judge will judge his people.” However, the so-called prophecy does not say that there will be no Popes between “Peter the Roman”, which corresponds to Pope Francis (whose baptismal name is George, and whose family is from the north of Italy, not Rome), and the penultimate entry on the list. Therefore, when the current Papacy ends, if the world does not end as well, and Francis’ successor is elected, we will be left in the dark for the future... or rather, just as much in the dark as we have been all along.

A Glimpse into Catholic Life in Ireland in the Early Sixties

Some weeks ago, a priest friend alerted me to the online archives of Radharc, “one of Ireland’s most important independent documentary production companies,” founded in 1959 and the producer of “over 400 documentaries which were screened on RTÉ, Ireland’s national broadcaster, between 1961 and 1996.” My correspondent was particularly interested in the short films made from 1961 to 1966, with two priests, Fr Peter Dunn and Fr Desmond Forristal, as the hosts. It should be noted—and this is a matter of surprise especially for Americans—that it did  not seem strange in any way for a public film project to be run by priests and to center so closely on religious and cultural matters (which were often the same).

Several of these films would be fascinating to NLM readers, so I shall comment on my favorites. There are many more worth exploring at the Irish Film Institute Radharc archive. (As the videos are not on YouTube, only still shots can be inserted here.)

The New Ritual

For an absolutely fascinating glimpse into Catholic life at the time of the opening of the Second Vatican Council, watch the seven-minute film from 1962 about “The New Ritual.” “New,” at this time, refers to the Tridentine sacramental rites done partly in Latin and partly in English. The film speaks as if this modest step is a sufficient response to modern needs.

As regular readers will know, I’m opposed to having so much vernacular in the traditional rites of the Church of Rome, but no one can deny that if what the video shows had been the only step taken towards liturgical reform, the faithful wouldn’t have been thrown into disarray and there would be a great deal more peace and unity in the Church today. The traditional movement as we know it would not exist were it not for the flagrant overreaching of the Consilium and the accompanying absolutism of Paul VI.

Most interesting to me is the interview at the end with an Irish liturgist who says: “Some people want the Foremass [Mass of Catechumens] in English, but the rest of the Mass—especially the Canon, the heart of the Mass—will remain in Latin.” He seems quite sincere in his assertion. How many, at this time, could have imagined what would be happening only a few short years later? (On this point, I recommend William Riccio’s fine article “Back to the Future? No Thanks, I’ve Been There,” in which he recounts, inter alia: “We were told the Canon, that most untranslatable prayer, would never be in the vernacular because it is too steeped in meaning. In 1967, it was put in the vernacular.”)

Sick Calls

This four-minute video was made in 1962, when the traditional rite of the sacrament of extreme unction was still being used by everyone. Today it is used by communities like the FSSP and the ICRSS, and, I would suppose, by individual diocesan priests who are familiar with it.

What a remarkable glimpse into how sick calls used to be done — and, please God, how they can and should still be done today!

Blessing the Airplane Fleet

Made in 1962, this film tells the viewer about Aer Lingus, Ireland’s national airline. Each plane is named after an Irish saint—and after showing us lots of examples, the film gives a quick history of Irish missionaries of old. (As far as I know, the Aer Lingus airplanes have retained their saint names to the present.) We get a tour of the primitive instrumentation panel of a Boeing. We see a priest blessing the fleet with holy water, and a Sunday Mass conducted in the hangar. We get to see the prayer card (I’m not kidding) that used to be included in every seat of an Aer Lingus plane, and a view of nuns wearing habits one would never see today.

In general, the people flying on the planes as well as those seeing them off are dressed impeccably. One would not have dreamed of going out in public any other way.

The Village with the Most Vocations

Another remarkable film concerns a village in rural Ireland that had a long history of high numbers of priestly and religious vocations. A fascinating glimpse into Irish village life in 1962: there’s not even a hint of the collapse that would come later.

All the explanations given about why this village’s vocations flourished are quite similar to the reasons we might give today for the greater number of vocations among traditional Catholics: hard-working family life, the family Rosary, the cheerfulness of the sisters, and a relatively simple life. The sisters don’t put pressure on the girls; certainly no “vocations office,” “discernment retreats,” or baby-faced agents.

The sisters depicted in this 1962 film left for good in 2016, after 151 years. Seduced by the “spirit of the Council,” they had become “Eucharistic ministers” and Lord only knows what else. Corruptio optimi pessima.

People often say to traditionalists: “If Catholicism was so great before the Council, why did it fall apart so quickly?” And I reply: “How well do you know yourself? There but for the grace of God go I…” We don't have to pretend that there were no problems before the Council (and Ireland surely had its problems too) to know that things were a far sight better than they were afterwards, when the spirit of rebellion had taken hold and churchmen couldn't throw off the shackles of commandments, customs, and cultural heritage quickly enough. Things can fall apart rapidly when we let fallen human nature take the driver’s seat. Look at the history of Israel, God’s chosen people. Look at the Church in various periods of her checkered history. It’s not as if we should be shocked. Greatness is a daily moral and spiritual conquest, and it can fall to pieces in a matter of years, months, even days. These objectors might as well pose their question to Our Lord: “If you are the Son of God, why did one of your Apostles betray you, and the others run away?” It was not the fault of Our Lord; and neither was the (post)conciliar apostasy the fault of the Catholic tradition built up over the ages by the Holy Spirit, sent to the God-loving disciples in the one and only Pentecost of the Church, which lasts until the end of the ages.

New ICKSP Church in Belfast, N. Ireland

This past Wednesday, the Institute of Christ the King celebrated the opening of a new permanent home for its apostolate in Belfast, Northern Ireland, a very nice neo-Gothic building, hitherto known as the “Fortwilliam and Macrory Presbyterian Church”, which they were recently able to acquire, and have now dedicated to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. The Prior General of the Institute, Mons. Gilles Wach, celebrated the inaugural solemn Mass in the presence of the local ordinary, His Excellency Noel Treanor, Bishop of Down and Connor. The Twitter feed of BBC Newsline posted a story about the opening Mass. (It is nice to be able to say that the opening line of the copy, “Few Catholics now remember when Mass was said in Latin” is inaccurate, and getting more so every day.) Our thanks to Canon Wulfran Lebocq for sharing these photos with us, and our best wishes for the continued flourishing of the apostolate.

The bishop imposes and blesses incense for the Gospel.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Irish Juventutem Chapter Celebrates FIJ Anniversary

Our thanks to Mr Peter O’Riordan for sending us this account of a Mass recently organized by the Juventutem chapter of Cork, Ireland.

On May 24th, Juventutem Corcaigh (Cork) celebrated a Missa cantata at Kilcrea Friary, Ovens, Co. Cork, Ireland, in conjunction with celebrations held by Juventutem chapters around the world to mark the 15th anniversary of the foundation of Fœderatio Internationalis Juventutem (FIJ).

Kilcrea Friary is located near Ovens, Co. Cork, in an isolated area south of the river Bride. The name Kilcrea means the Church of Cré, a woman who founded a hermitage here before the time of the Franciscians. The friary is a fine example of an Irish Franciscian monastery, and much of it survives in good condition. The church features a fine, slender tower, which was used as a belfry.

The Mass was celebrated by Fr Damien Lynch CC Inniscarra, with the permission of Fr Liam Ó hIcí, the parish priest of Ovens, and we wish to express out deepest gratitude to both. Once permission had been obtained and the celebrant secured, preparations could being in earnest. The event was weather dependent; as can be seen from photographs, it just about held for the duration of the open air Mass.

Firstly, the matter of a suitable altar had to be contended with; Juventutem Corcaigh member Peter O’Riordan set about the task of designing, constructing and dressing the altar, all of which was completed in a timely fashion without the loss of any members - Deo gratias!

Fr Patrick MacCarthy, the parish priest of Ss Peter & Paul’s in Cork, which hosts the annual Fota Liturgical Conference, very kindly supplied many of the accoutrements necessary for a Missa cantata. Joe McGinty, stalwart server at Ss Peter & Paul’s, acted as MC for the mass, carefully navigating unusual obstacles such as gravestones and kerbings.

May 24th is the feast of Our Lady Help of Christians; although this feast is not observed in Ireland, Fr Damien celebrated it as a Votive mass given the occasion. This day is the 13th anniversary of Juventutem’s foundation at Berne, Switzerland in 2006; it was also the first anniversary of a referendum which led to the deletion of the 8th amendment from the Irish constitution. As such the setting in which the Mass took place was rather fitting. Until very recently Ireland was regarded as a ‘Catholic’ country. However, the result of the aforementioned referendum has shown clearly that this is no longer the case.

However, I believe that the small group of faithful that gathered in the ruins of Kilrea Friary to celebrate mass according to the Usus Antiquior represents something significant. Matthew Lavelle, Patrick Williams and Bertrand Thiebault established Juventutem Corcaigh three years ago; since then, the chapter has grown significantly. The aim of the FIJ is to promulgate a Catholic network fostering the sanctification of youth worldwide according to the Roman traditions of the Church. As was sung in the processional hymn on the night, “Christus vincit! Christus regnat! Christus imperat!” Despite the challenges presented by contemporary Irish society, we in Juventutem Corcaigh and those who attend our events have found that “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor might, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Ireland’s National Apostasy - A Sermon at Silverstream Priory, Trinity Sunday, 2018

This sermon was preached today by Dom Mark Kirby, O.S.B., at Silverstream Priory.

Ireland's National Apostasy

The Preamble to the Constitution of Ireland. In the Name of the Most Holy Trinity, from Whom is all authority and to Whom, as our final end, all actions both of men and States must be referred, We, the people of Éire, humbly acknowledging all our obligations to our Divine Lord, Jesus Christ, Who sustained our fathers through centuries of trial, gratefully remembering their heroic and unremitting struggle to regain the full independence of our Nation, and seeking to promote the common good with due observance of Prudence, Justice, and Charity, so that the dignity and freedom of the individual may be assured, true social order attained, the unity of our country restored, and concord established with other nations, do hereby adopt, enact, and give ourselves this Constitution.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

On this feast of the Most Holy Trinity, two days after Ireland’s national apostasy from the Holy Catholic Faith, how can we hear the Gospel that was sung just moments ago, and not recall the Constitution that the Irish people gave themselves 80 years ago in 1938? Friday’s vote was not about abortion only; it was about killing Ireland’s soul, about snuffing out all that made Ireland a beacon among the nations, about publicly renouncing all that, from the time that Saint Patrick kindled his blazing fire on the Hill of Slane, made this island home of ours a great welcoming Catholic hearth in a world grown cold and dark. Ireland was, among all the nations on earth, the one that unsparingly sent forth sons and daughters, intrepid in confessing the Holy Trinity, to bring the light of faith to the most far-flung corners of the globe.

And Jesus coming, spoke to them, saying: All power is given to me in heaven and in earth. Going therefore, teach ye all nations; baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. (Matthew 28, 18)

How did we come to this? Among those who voted “Yes” on Friday, the vast number were baptized, and sealed with the sign of the Gift of the Holy Ghost in Confirmation. Some of these would have been confirmed but a few years ago. Among them were people who once knelt at the altar to receive the adorable Body of Christ, formed by the Holy Ghost in the womb of the Virgin Mary, immolated on the Cross, risen from the tomb, ascended into heaven, and returning in glory. Among them are people who, (and I say this with fear and trembling), will dare even to present themselves for Holy Communion today. To these, I can only repeat what the Apostle says:

Whosoever shall eat this bread, or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and of the blood of the Lord. But let a man prove himself: and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of the chalice. For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh judgment to himself, not discerning the body of the Lord. (1 Corinthians 11, 27–29)

One cannot say that we were not warned. God did send his prophets to Ireland. I think of Frank Duff. I think of Saint John Paul II who, in October 1979, was given a rapturous welcome. Pope Benedict XVI’s Letter to the Catholics of Ireland, written only eight years ago, was prophetic. What became of it? Why was it filed away and not heeded?

There are reports of victory celebrations in Dublin and elsewhere: a satanic crowing, jeers hurled at Our Lord, against His Virgin Mother, and against the Church. The whole climate is eerily reminiscent of France in 1789, of Mexico in 1910, of Russia in 1917, of Germany in 1933, and of Spain in 1936. Even worse than the crowds hell–bent on celebrating the choice of death over life are the complacent lies of those government ministers who, with a smug satisfaction, speak of A New Modern Ireland At Last, an Ireland of compassion, justice, and respect for women. The accent in all such discourses is that of the ancient serpent:

Now the serpent was more subtle than any of the beasts of the earth which the Lord God had made. And he said to the woman: Why hath God commanded you, that you should not eat of every tree of paradise? And the woman answered him, saying: Of the fruit of the trees that are in paradise we do eat: But of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of paradise, God hath commanded us that we should not eat; and that we should not touch it, lest perhaps we die. And the serpent said to the woman: No, you shall not die the death. For God doth know that in what day soever you shall eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened: and you shall be as Gods, knowing good and evil. (Genesis 3, 1–5)

You will forgive me if I repeat today the words of the prophet Ezechiel:

Thou hast played the harlot with the nations among which thou wast defiled with their idols. Thou hast walked in the way of thy sister, and I will give her cup into thy hand. Thus saith the Lord God: Thou shalt drink thy sister’s cup, deep and wide: thou shalt be had in derision and scorn, which containeth very much. Thou shalt be filled with drunkenness, and sorrow: with the cup of grief, and sadness, with the cup of thy sister Samaria. And thou shalt drink it, and shalt drink it up even to the dregs, and thou shalt devour the fragments thereof, thou shalt rend thy breasts: because I have spoken it, saith the Lord God. (Ezechiel 23, 30–34)

What is remains for us? I will tell you what remains:

And now there remain faith, hope, and charity, these three: but the greatest of these is charity. (1 Corinthians 13, 13)

Draw near to the altar of the Holy Sacrifice, even as our forefathers drew in around the Mass Rocks. The altar is Ireland’s Divine Hearth. Not for nothing was the altar of the Lamb shown at Knock in 1879. Fall down in adoration and in reparation. Cry out to the Immaculate Mother of God, still Ireland’s Queen and Sorrowful Mother. My own dear father, with all the wisdom of his 91 years, said to me yesterday, “God has a plan. God will have the last word.” And what says Our Lord in today’s Gospel? He says this: “Behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.” (Matthew 28, 20). In this promise of His, let us rest all our hope.

A Hand-decorated Paschal Candle from Ireland

The decoration of the Paschal candle for 2018 at Silverstream Monastery was the work of the community’s subprior, Dom Benedict Maria Andersen, whose typographical work we have featured before.

Dom Benedict took his inspiration from an authentic Irish penal crucifix in the possession of a friend of the monastery. The penal crucifix, which was loaned to the monastery for all to admire and venerate, dates from the 1700s.

This is a splendid example of the kind of customized work that we need to see flourish once again in local communities, be they religious houses, parishes, or school chapels. It is refreshing and inspiring to see something that is made by hand, made for only one place, and offered up for only one year. Hand-decorated candles are returning slowly, following in the wake of better vestments and works of all sorts in recent years. May the renewal of fine arts in the service of the Church find more and more success.

A Great Report from Irish TV on the Dominicans

The Irish national television network RTÉ posted to their website a few days ago an edition of the program Nationwide which takes a really positive and sympathetic look at the life and vocation of the Dominican friars. Dominican vocations are on the increase in Ireland; it is particularly interesting to note how many of these fellows came into the Order after some time in the world in various professions. One of the Fathers interviewed here, Philip Mulryne, spent some time with the powerhouse English soccer club Manchester United; his entry into the Order in 2009, and his priestly ordination last year in July, made the national news in his country. Another of the Fathers, who now does media work for the Province, was raised in the Netherlands without religion at all, and discovered the Faith, and then later his religious vocation, while visiting Ireland during his engineering studies. We also see a bit of the famous Dominican Salve Regina procession. Definitely something to lift the spirits on a grey January day. (h/t to Fr Lew.)

Here is the link to the video, which can’t be embedded; I found that it would play on Edge, but not on Chrome, so you may also find that it works better on one browser than another.

https://www.rte.ie/player/it/show/nationwide-21/10827425/

Solemn Mass for St Patrick in Dublin

Thanks once again to our friend Mr John Briody for sending in photos from St Kevin’s Church in Dublin, Ireland, home to the Latin Mass Chaplaincy for the Dublin Archdiocese; this time, they are of Mass for yesterday’s feast of the Patron of Ireland, St Patrick. The celebrant is a new priest of the FSSP, Fr. James Mawdsley, a native of England who, before entering seminary, worked as a human-rights activist; for his work on behalf of democratic rule and against the oppression of ethnic minorities, he spent well over a year in a Burmese jail, and was subjected to beatings and torture. Regina Magazine interviewed him last year about his remarkable experiences; he is now assigned to the FSSP Apostolate at St Mary’s in Warrington, England. Our congratulation to Fr Mawdsley and the FSSP! (A reminder that Mr Briody has a large number of photos, of liturgies and other stuff, on his two flickr accounts.)

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Good News from Ireland: TLM in Waterford Cathedral

From the Latin Mass Society of Ireland comes this report of the first Traditional Latin Mass held in the cathedral of Waterford in 50 years. The next one is scheduled for February 26th, Quinquagesima Sunday, at 10 a.m.

“After a 50 year absence the Traditional Latin Mass returned to the oldest cathedral seat of the oldest city in Ireland. With the kind permission of Very Rev. Canon Edmund Cullinan, Adm., the Traditional Roman Catholic Mass was offered in Waterford Cathedral on Sunday 22nd of January at 10 am. The celebrant, Polish priest Fr Andrzej Komorowski, processed in a rather fitting green cope through a respectably filled Cathedral of over 250 people, all eagerly awaiting the Traditional Mass.

It was a wonderful opportunity for older Mass goers in the diocese to experience once again the beauty, solemnity, and splendour of the Traditional Latin Mass. It was also an opportunity for younger Mass goers to witness for the first time the central and most splendid jewel of their Catholic liturgical heritage – the magnificent Mass with sacred music that formed all the great saints of the Church and nourished the faith and lives of their grandparents and ancestors.

Many older Catholics remembered their chants and took up their part in the singing of the Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus and Agnus Dei. It was a great delight to all the servers when a young boy, without a moment of hesitation or insecurity, presented himself to the serving team and requested to serve with them. ...

A great day for Waterford and a privilege for all who assisted. Fr Faber never spoke truer words when he described this Mass as ‘The most beautiful thing this side of Heaven.’ ”

A First Mass in Ireland

Thanks to our friend Mr John Briody for sending in these photos of the First Mass of Canon John O’Connor of the Institute of Christ the King, celebrated this past Sunday at St. Kevin’s Church, Harrington Street, Dublin, Ireland which is home to the Latin Mass Chaplaincy for the Dublin Archdiocese. Our congratulations to Canon O’Connor, who is currently posted to the Institute’s Apostolate located at Sacred Heart Church, The Crescent, in Limerick. (A reminder that Mr Briody has a large number of photos, of liturgies and other stuff, on his two flickr accounts.)

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Polyphony Summer School in Ireland

We choir directors have a duty to pass on the REAL treasures of church music to the next generation ... and impart the musical skills which will enable them to continue this wonderful tradition... It is their rightful inheritance. Musicians and liturgists of the Catholic Church throughout the world of the duty and responsibility we all have to pass on to a new generation the treasures of church music protected by Vatican II and by many papal documents. Let the young singers experience and come to love this music. They are the Future … they are wonderful and highly talented young people! Do not deprive them of their heritage by offering them less than the best!”

These are the words of Dr Ite O’Donovan, director of the Dublin-based Lassus Scholars, whom we have featured many times here on NLM. She writes this à propos of a program which she led last week at St Kevin’s Church in Dublin, (home of the Dublin Latin Mass Chaplaincy,) the Orlandus Summer School for Choir and Organ; she was joined by vocal coach, Dr Imelda Drumm, and organ tutor Dr Paul McKeever. The program is geared towards young people from ages 14 to 26, with a view to introducing them to the glorious treasures of church music when they were young; as Dr O’Donovan writes, too often the parents take their children out of choir when they reach age 13/14 for the sake of sports and other activities.

The teachers were assisted by some of the older and very committed members of the Piccolo Lasso (Little Lassus) singers, who could all read music but who had not yet been singing polyphony - the Lassus Scholars of the future! As you will see from the series of 4 videos they really did very well - they even sang Isaac for the Communio. On Thursday August 11th, they began work on ALL the music which they were able to sing only 4 days at Mass on August 14th, as you can see in this video; some singers from the outside had never sight-read choral music before, though most had some experience in playing an instrument.

Below are the videos for all 4 days of the summer school, (3-5 mins each) with a little commentary by Dr O’Donovan on what was done each day. These show the progress made from the very first session on Thursday morning to the performance at Holy Mass on Sunday. They also gave a concert - extra motets including Allegri Miserere - and organ pieces!

Day 1: Twenty-two young singers from many parts of Dublin, Co Meath and Co Louth gather together at the Orlandus Summer School 2016. While about half have them have had an excellent musical training as members of Piccolo Lasso, very few of them have performed polyphony before and almost all the repertoire is new to everyone. This video is taken from the very first session.

Day 2: Much progress was made in learning Palestrina’s Missa Brevis in the choral sessions. Other new pieces included Tallis’ If ye love me, Lassus’ Benedictus from the Missa Ecco amor colei, Panem de caelo from Isaac’s Choralis Constantinus and Allegri’s Miserere. Motets learned on day 1 were revised, including Pitoni’s Cantate Domino and Victoria’s Ave Maria. Many of the young participants availed of the opportunity of having individual singing lessons with Dr Imelda Drumm and organ tuition with Dr Paul McKeever. Excellent progress was made by all!

Day 3: All the participants had an intensive rehearsal schedule during the morning. One cannot praise them highly enough for their concentration and commitment which enabled them to bring 10 new pieces of polyphony to performance standard in 3 days. On top of that, the young singers had to learn to read/sing the Gregorian Chant Introit and Alleluia, short psalm-tone settings of the other Propers and regular chants such as the Asperges and Credo III. And to crown it all we were working on Allegri’s Miserere to sing at the Sunday afternoon concert. Amazing!

Day 4: The culmination of three days of rehearsals with two performances given by the participants at the Orlandus Summer School 2016 – morning Mass and afternoon concert. We have a saying in Ireland - “Mol an óige agus tiocfaidh sí - Praise the youth and he will come.” On Sunday Morning, August 14th, the Orlandus Summer School Choir gave stunning performances of Gregorian chant and Polyphony during the Mass for the 13th Sunday after Pentecost at St Kevin’s Church, Latin Mass Chaplaincy in Dublin.

Guest Article — Monasterboice and the Grace of the Divine Office

Monasterboice and the Grace of the Divine Office

Clarissa Kwasniewski

We went to Ireland. . . . No, we did not go to Ireland . . . we went to Heaven. We kept going to Heaven, we were invited again and again. We ate the heavenly banquet, we adored the Lamb; surrounded by angels and saints, all unseen, we sang His praise. In the liturgy at Silverstream, we found Heaven. Not just once, but seven times a day.

Before this experience, I had enjoyed Gregorian chant, but being unable to sing well, had never gotten on the “inside,” so to speak. I had recited Lauds and Vespers in English for more than twelve years, growing to love the psalms and feeling regretful if for some reason I could not do it. But I still had never quite understood why St. Benedict put so very much emphasis on the Opus Dei.

The first few days at Silverstream I enjoyed the beautiful chant and followed the text with my rusty college Latin as best I could. But I was still “outside” of it. It was only water, good, life-giving and necessary, but lacking the heartwarming power of wine.

It was on our outing to the nearby ancient ruins of Monasterboice that this changed. Monasterboice felt as if we had really reached old Ireland at last, the isle of saints and scholars. Surrounded by gravestones, by high crosses and only a few feet from the sky-high round tower, in the ruins of a 10th-century church we — my family and part of my monastic family (three of the monks, two aspirants) — chanted the office of None. Kneeling on the damp grass to sing the praise of Christ in the Most Blessed Sacrament, the grace of St. Benedict’s love for the Office entered my heart.

Monasterboice is a tourist attraction. I am sure we got a few stares that afternoon. Certainly, we were a spectacle to angels and to men, as Dom Benedict had preached that very morning for the feast of St. James: “For I think that God hath set forth us apostles, the last, as it were men appointed to death: we are made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men. We are fools for Christ’s sake” (1 Cor 4:9-10). But I think also that the souls of the Irish faithful who had prayed on this consecrated ground before us were pleased to look down and hear the praise of God rising again.

They shall come and shout for joy on Mount Sion
they will stream to the blessings of the Lord
to the corn, the new wine and the oil
to the flocks of sheep and the herds.
Their life will be like a watered garden
They will never be weary again.
            Jeremiah 31:12 (Jerusalem Bible)

Since that time, assisting at the Divine Office has been different. At Silverstream, the soaring chants were not only beautiful, but became friends, hands outstretched, inviting one to the heavenly liturgy. Lingering in the mind, on the tongue, like honey. Even my stumbling recitation of the Latin and singing the easy responses became a joy. Following the monastic horarium that week, time changed and slowed, silence became a blessing and sound itself was sanctified. The office went from water to wine, and became the oil of gladness.

When I read now the Rule of St. Benedict, or excerpts from St. Basil or St. John Chrysostom on the discipline and delights of psalmody, I finally have a glimpse of what they are talking about, what they must have experienced and why they urgently exhorted the faithful to take it up themselves. This is a gift that lies waiting in the hands of Holy Mother Church. Laudetur sacrosanctum et augustissimum Sacramentum in aeternum!

Clarissa Kwasniewski is an oblate of Silverstream Priory.

The fields around Monasterboice

Entering the 10th-century chapel to pray None

The round tower