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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Title page and copyright page

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

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

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

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

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

Even the thanksgiving after Mass is corporate and vocal.

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

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

Physician, heal thyself.

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

A Modern History of Gothic Vestments, 1838-1957 (Part 3): Guest Article by Nico Fassino

This is the third part of Mr Nico Fassino’s article on the history of the revival of Gothic vestments; the first part covered the period from 1841-1863, and the second part from 1863-1925. Mr Fassino is the founder of the Hand Missal History Project, an independent research initiative dedicated to exploring Catholic history through the untold and forgotten experiences of the laity across the centuries. Learn more at HandMissalHistory.com or @HandMissals. Once again, we are very grateful to him for sharing his interesting and thoroughly well-researched work with us.

A chasuble made for Cardinal Odoardo Farnese, ca. 1590-1610, designed by the painter Annibale Carracci. Image from Wikimedia Commons by Sailko, CC BY 3.0.

The Vatican “Ban” of 1925

The use of Gothic vestments continued to spread in England and elsewhere. For example: by 1925, it was reported that every single Catholic church and chapel except one (the Oratory of St. Philip Neri) in the Diocese of Birmingham used Gothic vestments. [38]

That year was a momentous one for the story of Gothic vestments. Pope Pius XI had proclaimed 1925 as a Holy Year, and Rome was chosen as the host city for an International Exhibition of Modern Christian Art. During the exhibition, “newly-made vestments, according to the Borromeon proportions, were shown in a special audience with Pius XI, who approved their use and blessed them.” [39]

Afterwards, there seems to have been a desire by some in Rome to walk back any idea of increased Gothic permissions. On December 9, 1925, the Sacred Congregation of Rites responded to a question regarding vestments. The rescript was exceedingly brief, did not formulate any new regulations or details, and simply referred the question back to the well-known letter of 1863, which was appended to the response:

[Question]: In the making and use of vestments for the sacrifice of the Mass and sacred functions, is it permissible to depart from the accepted usage of the Church and introduce another style and shape, even an old one?

[Response]: It is not permitted, without consulting the Holy See, in accordance with the Decree or circular letter of the S.R.C., given to Ordinaries on August 21, 1863. [40]

This was the very first time that the text of the 1863 letter had been published in any official collection of decrees of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. It is likely for this reason that the 1925 reply was commonly viewed as a ‘new’ or ‘updated’ Roman intervention on Gothic vestments, despite the fact that the reply merely pointed back to the original letter.

The Ecclesiastical Review, Dec, 1925, p. 626

The 1925 reply quickly raised questions around the world. It was reported in some quarters as an attempt to stop the widespread adoption of Gothic vestments. The editors of the Ecclesiastical Review answered several questions about it, discussed the original 1863 letter, and again did not interpret the decision to mean that ongoing use of Gothic vestments (or even the manufacture of new ones) was forbidden:

“Hence, while the use of the so-called Roman chasuble, in which the shoulder parts slightly overlap, is recognized as the prevailing approved custom, many churches in England, Germany, America, and even in Rome, adopt what is designated as the Gothic style to distinguish it from the purely Roman. It is certainly the more graceful of the two, and hence is commonly adopted in ecclesiastical art.” [41]

“The use of the Gothic chasuble in the modified form adopted by St. Charles and proposed by Bishop Gavanti, the Roman master of Pontifical ceremonies, is not forbidden. [...] The traditional right, which is not merely a privilege, of using Gothic vestments as described, was not abrogated by Pius IX or the S. Congregation, but continues wherever it has been regularly or accidentally adopted before that time.” [42]

As news of this reply from Rome spread in English-speaking lands, it produced a decent amount of confusion, and in some cases seems to have been met with barely a shrug. [43] Tongue-in-cheek commentary was offered in diocesan newspapers about the “battle of vestments” and the absurdity of attempting to define how ‘amply cut’ a vestment could be before it became forbidden.

The Catholic Transcript, April 15, 1926. p. 4

Gothic Vestments after the ‘ban’ of 1925

Given this reception and interpretation of the 1925 rescript, it will not be surprising that Gothic vestments continued to be used and continued to spread in the years which followed. In the decade following the 1925 document, they were discussed as normal and licit things by diocesan newspapers and the US Bishops’ news service; they were manufactured and advertised by church goods retailers, they were used in the presence of bishops and by bishops themselves; they were even used by papal legates and by the pope himself!

Gothic Chasuble commissioned in 1929 by Cardinal Francis Bourne. From Dom E.A. Roulin, Vestments and Vesture: A Manual of Liturgical Art (London: Sands & Co, 1933), page 94.

• In 1926, Gothic vestments were used at the Solemn Midnight Mass at the Franciscan Monastery of the Holy Land in Washington, DC. [44]
• In 1927, the US Bishops’ news service praised Sacred Heart church in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, for fostering a liturgical revival and specifically commented upon the exclusive use of Gothic vestments. [45]
• In 1929, a special set of Gothic vestments was worn on the feast of St. Ignatius and Golden Jubilee of Rev. William Cunningham, SJ at the Church of the Gesù in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. [46]
• In 1929, Cardinal Francis Bourne commissioned Gothic vestments for Westminster Cathedral during the celebration of the centenary of Catholic Emancipation. [47]

On March 19, 1930, Pope Pius XI used Gothic vestments during mass at St. Peter’s, and allowed himself to be photographed while doing so. [48] Gothic vestments were widely used throughout Rome during these years, including by cardinals in the catacombs, at the Basilica of St. Sebastian, and in celebrations organized by the Pontifical Academy of Martyrs and presided over by the papal master of ceremonies. [49]

Pope Pius XI celebrating Mass in a Gothic chasuble made for him by the Poor Clares of Mazamet, France. Source: Raymund James, “The Origin and Development of Roman Liturgical Vestments” (Exeter: Catholic Records Press, 1934), page 2.

In 1934 the Catholic Church in Australia held a National Eucharistic Congress in Melbourne, celebrating the centenary of the church in that country and featuring “unprecedented” spectacular ceremonies and vast numbers of clergy and laity. On November 30, following the opening ceremonies for the congress, pontifical high mass was celebrated at St. Patrick’s Cathedral by papal legate Cardinal Joseph MacRory in the presence of 60 bishops and 450 priests from around Australia. The cardinal and celebrating ministers wore Gothic vestments. [50]

The Telegraph (Brisbane), Nov. 30, 1934, p. 7 

The following day Archbishop Filippo Bernardini, papal nuncio to Australia, celebrated another pontifical high mass in St. Patrick’s Cathedral for a crowd of more than 7,500 people, wearing Gothic vestments, which were frequently used throughout the Eucharistic Congress. [51]

Full approval of Gothic Vestments

In the years which followed, various members of the hierarchy of Australia continued to use Gothic vestments in high-profile settings, as in 1937, when Archbishop of Adelaide Andrew Killian used them during the consecration of Francis Henschke as Bishop of Wagga Wagga. [52]

They continued to receive official approval and use around the world during these years, for example, being authorized for the Archdiocese of Malines by Cardinal Jozef-Ernest van Roey in 1938, and by the Second Diocesan Synod of Quebec in 1940. [53]

Gothic vestments even reached the literal ends of the Earth during this period. During the US Navy’s Antarctic Expedition, on January 26, 1947, the first ever Catholic Mass offered in Antarctica was celebrated in extremely rustic conditions in the mess hall of camp ‘Little America IV’ on the Ross Ice Shelf. Rev. William Menster, chaplain of the flagship USS Mount Olympus, used green Gothic vestments. [54]

At left, Rev. William Menster; at right, the USS Mount Olympus (AGC-8) in Antartica, 1947. (Sources: left and right.)

Finally, on August 20, 1957, the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued a decree which gave bishops the right to permit the use of Gothic vestments in their own dioceses. From this point onward their use, which had been regular throughout the world by priests and bishops alike since 1925, only further increased.

NCWC News Service, Aug. 31, 1957, wire copy p. 8

Conclusions

This concludes our survey of the use of Gothic vestments between 1841 and 1957. It is a story far more complex and fascinating than that depicted by conventional narratives. What can we make of all this? I think there are several key points which are worthy of summary and further discussion.

First, it is abundantly clear that the ‘revival’ of Gothic vestments in the modern period was much more widespread throughout Europe–particularly in England, France, and German-speaking lands–much earlier than commonly thought. By 1849 it was authorized by multiple bishops (in some cases on a diocesan-wide basis) across the continent.

Second, it is also clear that from the very early days of the Gothic revival, there were some officials in Rome who were skeptical and disapproving of the use of these vestments. The number of those who disliked the Gothic, as well as their roles and the intensity of their opposition, varied over the years. On multiple occasions, the popes themselves directly gave approval for and/or approving remarks about Gothic vestments. But in general, there was consistently more opposition than support from various members of the curia.

Despite this, it is also evident that Rome did not ever unequivocally condemn or actually attempt to stamp out the practice, and that there was widespread toleration of Gothic vestments, which evolved into permission to the local bishops. [55] There were no formal restrictions against Gothic vestments until the circular letter of 1863, and even then it was not viewed by chanceries and clerical journals around the world as a strict ‘ban’. The text of the letter was not published for more than 60 years afterwards and not a single different or clarifying statement was ever issued by Vatican officials.

It’s obvious that there was a persistent lack of clarity on what Rome permitted, tolerated, or forbade, as is evident from the number of times the question was raised in clerical journals and Catholic periodicals). There was also a widespread interpretation that Gothic vestments could continue to be used with the permission of the bishop. Because of this, the situation varied from diocese to diocese and region to region. In some cities or dioceses, the use of Gothic vestments was fully approved; in others, it was forbidden or limited.

All of this demonstrates how difficult it would be to claim that there was a clear message from Rome or to assign the label of disobedience to those many priests, bishops, and laity who produced, purchased, and used Gothic vestments for decades even after the 1863 letter. They were discussed approvingly in diocesan newspapers, permitted and used by the bishops and cardinals of the region, and routinely sanctioned by canonical and clerical journals. If the use of these vestments was in fact disobedient or forbidden during these decades, could the common priest or member of the laity have been expected to discover that fact with any certainty? [56]

Even after the Vatican rescript of 1925–which merely pointed back to the 1863 letter, and again, was not interpreted as a ban–the use of Gothic vestments did not slow or diminish. Just 5 years after the rescript, the pope himself was photographed in Gothic vestments. Within less than a decade, multiple papal nuncios and legates were regularly using them in the most high-profile and public ceremonies possible.

Photograph of the Gothic vestments blessed by Pope Pius XI in 1925. Source: Dom E.A. Roulin, Vestments and Vesture: A Manual of Liturgical Art (London: Sands & Co, 1933), page 82.

Because the use of Gothic vestments was so widespread before 1900 (and was desired and encouraged by so many different priests and bishops in so many different countries for so many years) it seems clear that it would have been essentially impossible to avoid the trend even without the advent of the modern Liturgical Movement in the 1920s.

If Rome truly viewed the ongoing use of Gothic vestments as a clear abuse or explicitly forbidden, it must be said that they handled it in one of the worst and most ineffective ways possible. Furthermore, once papal representatives and the pope himself began to even occasionally use them for public masses, any remaining doubt about their permissibility was eliminated in the mind of Catholics around the world.

Following the decree of 1957, Gothic vestments came to dominate the ecclesiastical landscape and their use for the last several decades has been essentially universal. Contrary to the expectations of the writer in America in 1910, it seems that the vast majority of priests in the mid-20th century did not adopt the Gothic with “heavy hearts” after all. It is also interesting that the lighthearted commentary from 1926 now appears to be extraordinarily prescient:

“The question of amplitude or non-amplitude in vestments will never, let it be hoped, rise, or descend, to schismatical proportions. There was a long dispute over the date of Easter. The war of the Vestments ought to be settled within a generation or two at the utmost.” [57]

And indeed it was.

NOTES (numeration continued from previous article):

[38] The Advocate (Melbourne), June 4, 1925, page 15.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

A Modern History of Gothic Vestments, 1838-1957 (Part 2): Guest Article by Nico Fassino

This is the second part of Mr Nico Fassino’s article on the history of the revival of Gothic vestments; the first part was published on Wednesday. Mr Fassino is the founder of the Hand Missal History Project, an independent research initiative dedicated to exploring Catholic history through the untold and forgotten experiences of the laity across the centuries. Learn more at HandMissalHistory.com or @HandMissals. Once again, we are very grateful to him for sharing his interesting and thoroughly well-researched work with us.

Reception of the 1863 letter

Despite the 1863 letter from the Sacred Congregation of Rites, the use of Gothic vestments did not seem to be much changed in the years which followed. Records demonstrate the widespread and uncontroversial use of Gothic vestments around the globe during these years, including:

• In 1870, a magnificent set of Gothic vestments worth approximately $50,000 in modern valuation was given to Bishop Richard Roskell of Nottingham for use in the cathedral. [15]
• In 1873, Archbishop of Sydney John Polding wore “rich” Gothic vestments as he ordained Christopher Reynolds as Bishop of Adelaide in a large ceremony attended by at least four other Australian bishops. [16]
• The 1867, 1879, 1883, and 1885 retail catalogs of Benziger Brothers, the premier Catholic publishing house and church goods retail in the United States, offered Gothic-style vestments. [17]
• At his ordination by 1887, newly-consecrated Bishop of Wilcannia John Dunne wore “a superb and costly” set of white and gold Gothic vestments. [18]
• By 1895, one account observed: “… there is a great diversity in this respect [of vestments] in the Roman Catholic Church. In England, the Gothic, French, and the Italian chasubles are all freely used by the Roman Catholic Clergy. [...] The Swiss Roman Catholic clergy and those in many parts of Germany use Gothic vestments, not those of Renaissance form”. [19]

Archbishop of Sydney John Bede Polding in Gothic vestments, 1866

Another summarized the situation thus: “[a]s in England, so also on the Continent, the advance of the ample chasuble was notable. By 1900 many dioceses in Western Europe could show churches where it was in use. Some of them had secured indults, some had simply accepted a growing custom, and all could cite the example of Rome itself, where several cardinals and at least two popes (Pius IX and X) encouraged the ample chasuble and used it themselves.” [20]

Helene Stummel, ca. 1890

Helene Stummel, wife of the famous artist Frederick Stummel, was a vestment maker, and a passionate advocate for the revival of Gothic vestments during these years. She was sought after by many bishops, taught regularly across Europe, and published books on recommendations for the design of vestments:

“Madam Stummel has lectured before cardinals, bishops, and the clergy in Rome, before the Congresses of Cologne and Dusseldorf. Recently a number of the Bishops of England have invited her to speak before the conferences of the clergy and in their seminaries to the students of theology. She possesses a singular mastery of the subject, and has the means to illustrate her clear and erudite expositions from a rare collection of paramentics gathered and disposed with artistic skill and a thorough realization of the dignity of the subject.” [21]

One may wonder how such a situation could exist following the circular letter of 1863. It seems exceedingly implausible that significant numbers of bishops and priests of multiple countries throughout the world were deliberately disobeying Roman directives. What then is the explanation?

Interpretation of the 1863 letter

First, it is interesting to note that the 1863 letter was not published or included in the official collection of decrees and decisions of the Sacred Congregation of Rites for more than sixty years after it was written. It is possible that, because of this, in some isolated cases the letter went unheeded due to lack of awareness, or because it was viewed as less authoritative than a formal decree. [22]

The letter was widely known in general, however, and regularly cited in clerical journals or similar interpretive authorities. These discussions demonstrate how the 1863 letter was understood and applied over decades and suggest an explanation for why the use of Gothic vestments continued: in short, the letter was not considered to be an unequivocal or totally restrictive ban.

Writing in 1884, the editors of the Irish Ecclesiastical Record explained that this letter permitted Gothic vestments to continue to be used but prevented any new vestments from being produced: “[i]n the face of this decree, it is not lawful to manufacture new vestments of this pattern. The bishop may allow the use of those already made, till they are worn out.” [23]

Painting of Rev. William Lockhart, from the cover of “William Lockhart: First Fruits of the Oxford Movement” (Herefordshire: Gracewing, 2011).

Rev. William Lockhart, a convert and friend of John Henry Newman, offered extensive commentary on the 1863 letter in the pages of the Irish Ecclesiastical Record in 1890, stating that, among other things, the manufacture of ‘Borromean’ chasubles (in the size and shape prescribed by St. Charles Borromeo) remained fully permitted without requiring any special permission, as did the ‘Galway’ chasuble in Ireland. [24]

Despite the continuing use of Gothic vestments and the prevailing interpretation that the 1863 letter permitted this (but not the manufacture of new ones), Rome did not issue any further instructions, clarifications, or restrictions. [25]

The hated modern ‘French’ style

It is also worth noting that there were a number of prominent clerical and lay figures during these years who regularly wrote about their preference for the Gothic style in clerical journals and Catholic periodicals. Ernest Gilliat-Smith, for example, wrote in 1890, “... to my mind, Gothic vestments are preferable to Roman, both from an artistic and symbolic point of view, and I hope and trust that one day their use may be universal.” [26]

There was also widespread and long running disdain for the cheap, mass-produced French (modern fiddleback-style) vestments. These had undergone rather significant changes in style – described by some as “cutting and clipping” and others as “mutilation” – both before and after the French Revolution. These new forms were not forbidden by Rome and had quickly spread throughout Italy and elsewhere. [27]

Example of French-style clerical dress, 1776

The trend was described by the editors of the American Ecclesiastical Review as “[t]he growing abuse of the viol- (fiddle-) shaped chasuble, forced on the ecclesiastical market by the French makers of paramentics and silk merchants.” [28] Commentary in the Irish Ecclesiastical Record in 1890 is at turns both comical and illustrative, and seems worth quoting at length:

“Who can describe the abortion of the chasuble that pervades France at the present day? Fiddle-shaped in front, not coming down to the knees, stiff with buckram, or paper pasted on the poverty-stricken half-cotton-half-silk material of Lyons manufacture. They are as stiff as tea-boards, and crack if they are bent.

“I was told a story lately in Belgium, of a priest who objected to the stiff paper pasted between the flimsy silk and cheap cotton lining. The manufacturer [...] misunderstanding the objection of the priest, replied: ‘Yes, M. l‘Abbe, we always use paper, in order that they may wear better, and to add to the substantial appearance of our vestments; but I assure you, on this point I have a delicate conscience, and I never put into vestments anything but des bons journaux Catholiques [good Catholic newspapers].”

“These Lyons vestments are going every day all over the world. They are cheap, and Les Dames pieuses can thus make their collections go a good way in providing vestments for Les Missions Etrangeres. [...] We need not wonder that Pius IX intimated in the letter of Cardinal Patrizi that there might be good reasons (rationes alicujus ponderis), in favour of a return to the more ancient form of the vestment.” [29]

Even the noted authority Bishop Josephus van der Stappen commented dismissively on the French corruption of the chasuble:

“Hence, when the ancient chasuble had, in the course of time, been cut down from its generous proportions of old, to the skimp reduction of modern times, and the evil had found its way from France into the neighboring countries, there arose in England, France itself, Germany, and Belgium men who, animated by a zeal for Christian art, sought on their own account to restore the ancient practice by adopting the more beautiful style of Gothic vestments...” [30]

American Gothic (Vestments)

In America, by the turn of the century, there was some regular use of Gothic vestments and clear clerical support for more. Even the editors of the Ecclesiastical Review, nobody’s idea of progressive innovators, routinely featured pieces and editorials supporting their adoption.

Excerpt from the Ecclesiastical Review, April 1910

Beyond mere support, the Review was considered to be a driving force behind a movement pushing for the change in vestments. A letter from 1910 begins: “To the Editor, The Ecclesiastical Review. My hearty congratulations upon the movement you have started for the very desirable reform in our church vestments. Enclosed is a typical letter showing that you have many well-wishers with you in this matter…” [31]  Multiple examples of proposed Gothic designs were published in the Review, along with example measurements of what was permissible.

Model of proposed Gothic chasuble in the Ecclesiastical Review, December 1909, page 687.

The use and permissibility of Gothic vestments were widely discussed in various Catholic publications of the time. Some discussions even considered the potential future of a Roman decree to abandon fiddlebacks and exclusively adopt the Gothic! A 1910 editorial in the Jesuit journal America commented on the matter in a rather cheeky fashion:

The proper form and colors of vestments is being discussed in the Ecclesiastical Review[…] they represent a school long in existence in Germany and England, and are strong in art and aesthetics. We fear the faithful are largely Philistines [regarding which style of vestments they prefer]. Moreover, the Latin races are not likely to submit gladly even in this matter to the Teuton. [...]

If the Holy See so ordains, priests will all exchange our aniline-dyed, fiddle-shaped vestments for modified Gothic of subdued, esthetic hue. But many will do so with heavy hearts and there will be heavy hearts, too, among their people. It is hard to part with old friends, and the modern form and the bright colors have many to love them. For, after all, as Andrew Lang, singing in ‘The Galleries’ the charms of the two schools of art, confesses: ‘You still must win the public vote, Philistia!’ ” [32]

Examples of a proposed three-tiered system of vestments, in the Ecclesiastical Review, March 1910, page 351. This system was devised by Bishop Wilhelm von Keppler of Rottenburg, Germany. [33]

Through the first decade of the twentieth century we find records of the use of Gothic vestments across America. In 1910, Gothic vestments were in use in St. Mary’s church in Portland, Oregon. The Tabernacle Societies of the cathedrals in Baltimore and Cincinnati, which funded supplies and furnishings for parishes too poor to afford them, regularly produced Gothic vestments during these years. [34]

In 1914, the general American situation was summarized as follows: “[d]uring the last few years there has been a steady advance, especially in our larger city churches, towards a more exact observance of the rubrics and the carrying out of the solemn services of the Church. One of the notable features has been a closer approach, in the matter of vestments, to the old Roman usage, and many churches have adopted altogether the use of the so-called Gothic (old Roman) chasuble in place of the violin-shaped garments introduced by Gallican enterprise.” [35]

Example of Gothic vestments being given to bishops as gifts. Source: NCWC News Service, May 28, 1923, wire copy page 15.

Parishes were proud to own fine Gothic vestments and hefty sums were paid out for the best sets from American and European retailers. They were also frequently given as gifts by various parish or diocesan groups to their priests and bishops. For example, in 1922 the St. Anne Married Ladies’ Sodality at St. Mary's parish in Dayton, Ohio paid $900 for an imported set as a Christmas gift to their pastor (equal to $16,345 in 2023 when adjusted for inflation). [36]

By 1924 they seem to be in widespread and regular use, at least in certain parts of the country. In Cincinnati alone there are multiple examples of Gothic vestments mentioned in less than 12 months: at the Student’s Crusade Castle chapel, at the parishes of St. Margaret of Cortona and St. Agnes, and even at the Cathedral. [37]

This concludes the second article in this series. The third and final article will explore the use of Gothic vestments between 1925 and 1957 and offer conclusions concerning the whole series.

NOTES (numeration continued from previous article):
[15] The Nottinghamshire Guardian, April 22, 1870, page 2. The set was donated by nuns of Cologne, Germany and was valued at between £400-500 in 1870, or £39,180 adjusted for inflation as of June 2023.

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A Modern History of Gothic Vestments, 1838-1957 (Part 1): Guest Article by Nico Fassino

Last November, we published a research project by Mr Nico Fassino on the 1954 English Rituale. He has now graciously shared with us a new project, this time on the history of the revival of Gothic vestments, which will be published here in three parts. Mr Fassino is the founder of the Hand Missal History Project, an independent research initiative dedicated to exploring Catholic history through the untold and forgotten experiences of the laity across the centuries. Learn more at HandMissalHistory.com or @HandMissals. Once again, we are very grateful to him for sharing his interesting and thoroughly well-researched work with us. 

I recently saw a question about the modern history of ‘Gothic’ style vestments in the Roman Catholic Church. How and when were they re-introduced? At what point were they fully authorized for widespread use?

I am not an expert on vestments and have never studied their history. I was only casually familiar with what I would call the “common” narrative: that Gothic style vestments were illicitly adopted by some members of the Liturgical Movement in the early 1900s, forbidden as an abuse by Roman authorities, and only authorized in 1957 after which they became increasingly popular.

I was curious. Was this an accurate account or was there more to the story? I decided to explore historic Catholic newspapers and other contemporary material to see what I could find.

English Revival: Origins & Debate

The modern history of Gothic vestments largely begins with Augustus Welby Pugin (1812-52), at least for English-speaking lands. Pugin was a convert to Catholicism and an extraordinarily prolific ecclesiastical designer and architect. It is impossible to overstate his role or influence in launching the Gothic Revival movement.

Augustus Welby Pugin, by John Rogers Herbert, 1845 (source)

Bishop Thomas Walsh, Vicar Apostolic of England’s Midland District (one of the administrative regions of the English Catholic Church before the restoration of the hierarchy in 1850 - editor’s note), was a strong supporter of Pugin and “gave him almost a free hand in attempting to revive the old Gothic vestments of pre-Reformation days, besides encouraging him to build and restore churches in the Gothic style.” [1] This revival was not limited to England, however. On the Continent at this time, other figures were likewise involved in efforts to revive the use of Gothic vestments, including Dom Prosper Gueranger, abbot of monastery of Solesmes, and Canon Fanz Bock of the cathedral of Aix-la-Chapelle. [2]

Pugin’s efforts were quite successful and Gothic vestments were widely adopted by English clergy in these years. One notable public use of these vestments was at the opening of St. Mary’s College, Oscott in 1838 which was attended by several bishops and over 100 priests.

H.E. Bishop Antonio Mennini (then nuncio to Great Britain) wearing a Pugin vestment at St Mary’s College, Oscott, during a vocations conference held there in 2011.

But not all members of the English clergy were enthusiastic about these trends. Some, like Bishop Augustine Baines of the Westland District, opposed Pugin’s vision for vestments, church ornamentation, the restoration of Gregorian Chant, and other parts of the ‘English Catholic Revival’. Baines forbade his clergy to wear Pugin’s vestments and complained to Rome about them. [3]

In 1839, Bishop Thomas Walsh of the London District received a letter from the Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith which expressed displeasure with what he was permitting in his diocese. The letter also referred directly and dismissively to Pugin as “an architect converted from heresy” who was behind these innovations. Pugin corresponded about this with his friend and fellow convert Ambrose Phillipps De Lisle. De Lisle later wrote to another shared acquaintance and patron–John Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury:

… that the College of Propaganda is to regulate even the minutest details of our ecclesiastical dress, is to assume for a foreign congregation a degree of power that has never yet been claimed by any Pope, no nor even by any General Council of the Church.

An uniformity of vestments or even of rites and Liturgies has never yet been enforced in any period of the Church [...] Italy has her Chasubles very different in many respects fm. those of France, of Germany, and of modern England [...] ; it is therefore idle to say that the restoration of the old English Chasuble hurts the uniformity of the Church, seeing that no such uniformity exists: it is equally idle to say that it infringes upon the rubricks ; when the rubricks were composed most assuredly the modern form of vestments existed not, and therefore if either offended against them, it wd. be the latter, not our glorious old English form. [...]

No, deeply do I deplore this lamentable business: its consequences if persisted in, will be most disastrous, the very idea of them fills me with horror and alarm. [4]

Despite the 1839 letter from Cardinal Franzoni to Bishop Walsh, and the initial despair of Pugin and De Lisle, no formal restrictions to the use of Gothic vestments were issued from Rome, and their use continued to spread throughout England, and in France, Belgium, and Germany.

English Revival: Continued Use

In June 1841, the new Cathedral of St. Chad in Birmingham–commissioned by Walsh and designed by Pugin–was opened in an extraordinarily grand ceremony attended by thirteen bishops from around the world (two from Scotland, one from the United States, and one from Australia) including Bishop Baines. [5] For this Mass, Bishop Nicholas Wiseman and the celebrating ministers wore a set of gold Gothic vestments which had been designed by Pugin. [6]

Illustration of the original interior of the Cathedral of St. Chad in Birmingham. From Robert Kirkup Dent, “Old and New Birmingham: A History of the Town and Its People” (Birmingham: Houghton and Hammond, 1880), page 458.

In the decades which followed, Wiseman would be appointed as the first Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster and become the driving force for trends within the newly re-established Catholic Church in England. He would continue to use Gothic vestments regularly. [7]

After the re-establishment of the Catholic Hierarchy and the First Provincial Synod of Westminster in 1852, now-Cardinal Wiseman traveled to Rome to submit the synodal decrees for Vatican approval. So widespread was the use of Gothic vestments at this time, it was rumored in the secular press that Rome intervened to edit the decrees in an attempt to regulate or ban them.

4. Dumfries and Galloway Standard and Advertiser, November 2, 1853, page 2.

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A History of Vernacular Scripture from the Pulpit: A Research Project by Nico Fassino

Our thanks to Mr Nico Fassino for sharing with us this account of his latest research project; this article is an abridgment and summary of material published on the Epistles & Gospels project website. Mr Fassino is the founder of the Hand Missal History Project, an independent research initiative dedicated to exploring Catholic history through the untold and forgotten experiences of the laity across the centuries. Learn more at HandMissalHistory.com or @HandMissals.

Detail of ‘Worship Service in Trier Cathedral’ by Clarkson Frederick Stanfield, 1838.

The tradition of reading portions of the holy Scriptures during the Christian liturgy goes back to the time of the Apostles. The selections and arrangement of specific Scriptural readings varied between geographic regions and liturgical traditions, but generally included letters and writings of the Apostles as well as selections from the four Gospels and other parts of the New and Old Testaments. In the Roman Rite, a regular and standardized cycle of readings (the “Epistles and Gospels”) for use at Mass was established by the sixth and seventh centuries.

Surviving commentaries, homilies, and manuscript lectionaries demonstrate that this cycle of liturgical Scripture readings remained basically unchanged from the early medieval period until the liturgical reforms in the mid-twentieth century. The texts and arrangement of the Epistles and Gospels of the Roman Rite have been widely recognized and praised –even by non-Catholics– as a masterful summation of the Bible and Christian doctrine: German Protestant theologian Ernst Ranke considered them to be “the greatest perfection of liturgical art,” by which the Catholic Church endeavored “to make the congregation familiar with a very extensive portion of Scripture,” and that “the abundance of texts and the ingenious arrangement cannot be praised too much.” [1]

Conventional Narratives

Despite the beauty of the Epistle and Gospel texts, it is commonly thought that the laity did not regularly hear or understand the liturgical Scripture readings because they were read by the priest in Latin at the altar, and not to the people in their own language. It is a widespread belief in both scholarly and popular historical accounts that, in the decades and centuries before the Second Vatican Council, the laity had “little or no engagement with the Scripture readings” and that “[s]cripture was foreign territory to most pre-Vatican II Catholics—Protestants knew their Bible, Catholics celebrated their Mass.” [2]

There were some notable efforts to improve access to the vernacular Scriptures in the immediate years before the council. In 1936, Bishop Edwin V O’Hara (the pioneering figure behind the creation of the 1954 English Ritual) started the project to create a new, modern translation of the New Testament for the use of Catholics. The work was finally published to national acclaim in 1941 under the auspices of the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine. O’Hara also commissioned a special project alongside the wider translation effort: a book of the Sunday liturgical Scripture readings for use from the pulpit, so that the priest could recite the Epistle and Gospel in English before the homily.

This companion volume, using the new Confraternity translation, was also published in 1941 as The Epistles and Gospels for Sundays and Holydays by William H. Sadlier of New York City. It was initially adopted by 72 American dioceses, and soon spread throughout the United States and Canada. (A similar book, using Ronald Knox’s translation of the Bible, was published in 1945 for pulpit use in England and Wales). The 1941 Confraternity version was quickly incorporated into hand missals for the laity, allowing them to read the same Scripture text in the pew as they heard from the pulpit and studied at home.

From the front matter of a St. Joseph hand missal for the laity, demonstrating how the use of the Confraternity Scriptures from the pulpit was designed to be integrated with the experience of the readings in the hand missal.

Two decades after the publication of the Confraternity version, the practice of reciting the Scriptures from the pulpit began to change in the light of modern developments. In 1958, Pius XII instituted lay “commentators” who could read the vernacular texts of the Epistle and Gospel via a microphone and loudspeaker, in addition to offering running narration and explanation for the ceremonies of the Mass. A few years later, the need to recite the Scriptures in translation was eliminated by the liturgical changes which followed the council. Ultimately, even the ancient cycle of the Epistles and Gospels was replaced by a series of new lectionary books and revisions which remain ongoing even to the present day.

The History of Vernacular Scripture from the Pulpit

But the custom of reading the Sunday Scripture readings in the vernacular from the pulpit did not originate with O’Hara and the 1941 pulpit edition of the Confraternity translation. Rather, this was an ancient tradition which had been practiced throughout English-speaking lands since at least the 900s.

In a new study, titled The Epistles & Gospels in English: A history of vernacular Scripture from the pulpit, I offer the first comprehensive survey of this practice between 971 and 1964. The paper investigates this custom across five distinct historical eras, concluding with the first liturgical changes following the Second Vatican Council. The paper includes a number of valuable translations, and is heavily illustrated with images from twenty manuscripts and rare books, including several that have never before been available to the public.

English Epistles & Gospels in the Medieval Ages

The very earliest surviving manuscript collections of English homilies demonstrate that the custom of reciting the Sunday Gospel in the vernacular was already established and widely practiced by the late 900s. The Blickling Homilies, first published around 971, and Aelfric of Eynsham’s Catholic Homilies, first published around 995, both contain English translations of the entire Sunday Gospel placed at the beginning of the homily for the benefit of the laity.

Details from English homilies containing a vernacular translation of the Gospel reading. At left, the Blickling Homilies (Princeton University Library M 71, folio 6v) for Quinquagesima Sunday; at right, Aelfric’s Catholic Homilies (Bodleian Library MS. Bodl. 343, folio 56v) for the First Sunday of Lent.

There were a large number of English homily collections published in the following centuries which contained English translations and commentary on the Sunday Scripture readings. Examples include the Ormulum (circa 1180), the Northern Homily Cycle (circa 1315), John Mirk’s extraordinarily popular Book of Festivals (produced in manuscript and print from the 1380s to the 1530s), and editions like the “Dominical Gospels and of other certain great feasts” found in manuscripts Harley 2276 and Royal 18 A XVII (circa 1450).

This wasn't merely an English phenomenon. Rather, the English custom was part of a pan-European tradition of reciting the Sunday Epistle and Gospels in the vernacular for the benefit of the faithful. Between the late 1300s and the early 1500s, hundreds of editions of vernacular Epistles and Gospel books were published under a variety of titles, including Epistolae et evangelia, Postilla super epistulas et evangelia, and Postilla seu enarrationes.

These books were used by children at school, laity in the pews, and by priests in the pulpit across Europe. Editions survive in German, Italian, Dutch, French, Croatian, Spanish, Danish, English and more (they were even produced in the indigenous vernaculars in the New World, like the Nahuatl-language Epistolae et Evangelia produced in Mexico in the 1500s). The custom of reciting the Sunday liturgical Scriptures in the vernacular was so widespread that, as attested to be numerous contemporary accounts, many layfolk (even the poor and uneducated) came to memorize much of the Epistle and Gospel cycle and associate the readings with the different parts of the liturgical year.

Examples of European vernacular Epistle & Gospel books, published under the title of ‘Epistolae et evangelia. At left, a 1487 edition in Italian (Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale di Firenze Magl. C.5.10); at center, a 1486 edition in Dutch (Koninklijke Bibliotheek 168 G 33); at right, a 1495 edition in German (Bridwell Library Special Collections 06285).

Even Martin Luther attested that practice was widespread throughout Catholic Europe before the Reformation. Speaking of how God had preserved certain essential elements in the true church even despite “abomination” of the papacy, Luther said (in passages which to my knowledge have never before been translated into English, emphasis added):

“… in this Church, God remarkably and effectively preserved: [i] Baptism; [ii] next, the text of the Gospel, recited from the pulpit and in sermons in the vernacular of any country [...]

Since, I say, the office of the word is the greatest, the highest worship of God in the Church, Christ even in preserving it against the devil, against every falsehood and hypocrisy, administered it more effectively, no doubt, such that the Papists themselves […] the fiercest enemies of Christ, and most pernicious Pharisees against the doctrine of grace, nevertheless publicly recited the name of Christ and the text of the Gospel from the pulpit, not only in Latin but also in the local vernacular of any people throughout the whole world. ” [3]

English Epistles & Gospels in the Modern Period

With the dawn of the nineteenth century came the renewal of a trend which had been present throughout the medieval ages: bishops and councils urging priests to proclaim the Scriptures in English to their congregations during the celebration of Sunday Mass. In 1791, Bishop John Carroll opened the first synod for the church in the United States at St. Peter’s pro-cathedral in Baltimore. Regulations for Sunday Mass were prescribed in the Synod’s 17th Statute, which directed that the more solemn forms of sung and high Mass should be celebrated whenever possible, that it was desirable for some vernacular hymns and prayers be sung by the congregation, and that a vernacular translation of the Gospel was to be recited before the sermon. [4]

Saint Peter’s Catholic Church, Baltimore, by Thomas Ruckle, 1801 (the site of the 1791 Synod). Image courtesy of the Maryland Center for History and Culture (1981.51)

Similar regulations were issued by the bishops of Great Britain in 1822 and Ireland in 1826, and similar decrees would be regularly renewed throughout the English-speaking world in the subsequent decades. These decrees also inspired an outpouring of new books to assist priests in this task. Many publishers began to print specialized “pulpit use” versions of the Epistles and Gospels. These were popular with the clergy because they were designed for liturgical use, easy to hold and read in the pulpit, utilized the specific translations permitted by the hierarchy, and created a more standard experience across parishes and dioceses for the faithful in the pews.

Frontispiece of Epistles and Gospels for Pulpit Use, published by M.H. Wiltzius Co. of Milwaukee in 1893.

Conclusion

This article has been only a brief summary and overview of the history of the Epistles and Gospels in English. There are many other fascinating details which could not be included here. Examples include how original editions of the Rheims New Testament were used to read the English Epistles and Gospels at Mass during the period of persecution and recusancy in England, how Epistle and Gospel books sustained the faith and worship of the laity on remote American frontiers (even producing the vocation of the Bishop of Raleigh!), and local traditions like that of the Archdiocese of Portland where the vernacular Gospel was read at every daily Mass during Lent.

Detail from the Lenten Regulations for the city of Seattle and the Archdiocese of Portland in Oregon, published in The Catholic Northwest Progress, February 15, 1901, page 8. This was included in the Lenten Regulations annually between at least 1901 and 1929.

This new study demonstrates that, contrary to both popular and scholarly narratives, there was a long-standing and popular tradition of Catholics priests reciting English translations of the Sunday Scripture readings from the pulpit for the benefit of the laity during the Mass. We can now see that significant numbers of the laity –throughout many lands and ages– had regular and meaningful vernacular engagement with the Roman Rite’s ancient cycle of Epistles and Gospel readings, allowing them to memorize large amounts of Scripture and participate deeply in the annual liturgical cycle. All of this offers new insights into the history of pastoral care for the laity and cannot but transform our understanding of the lived experience of Catholic communities throughout the English-speaking world over the past 1,000 years.

NOTES:

[1] Ernst Ranke, Das kirchliche Perikopensystem aus den ältesten Urkunden der Römischen Liturgie dargelegt und erläutert. (Berlin: G. Reimer, 1847), page 400. Translation by Rev. John M. Lenhart, O.M.Cap, “The Bible as the meditation book of Medieval Laity,” The Ecclesiastical Review, Vol. 101, no. 3 (1939), page 195.

[2] John Cavadini, Mary Healy, and Thomas Weinandy, “A Synoptic Look at the Failures and Successes of Post-Vatican II Liturgical Reforms.” Church Life Journal, December 1, 2022.

[3] Martin Luther, De missa privata et unctione sacerdotum libellus (Vitebergae, 1534). The folios of this work are not numbered, but the quoted text appears on pages 71-72 and 96 if counted manually from the first page of text which begins “Toto hoc tempore.”

[4] “Dein Missa cum cantu solemniter celebretur; et solemnioribus diebus, si fieri potest, assistentibus Diacono et Subdiacono... Finito Evangelio legantur preces praescriptae pro omnibus ordinibus et felici statu Reipublicae; Evangelium item proprium illius diei lingua vernacula...Optandum est ut inter officia hymni aliqui aut preces lingua vernacular cantentur.” See Concilia Provincialia Baltimori habita ab anno 1829, usque ad annum 1840 (Baltimore: John Murphy, 1842), pp 15-16.

Forgotten English Rituals: A New Research Project by Nico Fassino

Our thanks to Mr Nico Fassino for sharing with us this account of his latest research project, on the 1954 English Ritual. He is the founder of the Hand Missal History Project, an independent research initiative dedicated to exploring Catholic history through the untold and forgotten experiences of the laity across the centuries. Learn more at HandMissalHistory.com or @HandMissals

The Rituale Romanum, that priestly manual containing the texts of the sacraments and blessings of the Roman rite, is a beautiful and fascinating book. Despite being frequently used for mundane moments and life-changing milestones alike, it is one of the most overlooked of all the liturgical books of the Catholic Church. It has received far less study than the missal or the lectionary, for example, and is often misunderstood.

Title page of the Rituale Romanum of 1614

In the popular conception, the Roman Ritual is viewed as a relatively recent creation (first published in 1614) and therefore is judged far less venerable than the texts of the Roman rite of the mass which stretch back more than a millennium before that. Because it is distinctly separate from the missal, and used in so many ordinary circumstances, it can sometimes be thought of as more ‘informal’ or less central to the Christian life than the liturgy of the Mass.

But the ritual is a unique and compelling book deserving of a great deal more study. Though the Roman Ritual itself dates to the Counter Reformation, the content is ancient and draws from a pan-European tradition of printed Catholic rituales dating back to the early medieval ages. It is also no minor or ancillary part of the spiritual life. As Cardinal Emmanuel Suhard wrote, the ritual book is one of the most crucial tools given to priests as part of their charge to be “craftsmen of universal rehabilitation”:

In the Church his is the task of reconciling all created things with God; not overnight or without a struggle, but progressively, starting with the smallest things. One has only to open that wonderful book, the Ritual, to see that this is so. Nowhere else does the Church manifest more clearly her maternal love and concern for the passing companions of our earthly journey. The liturgy neglects nothing.

It blesses houses, bread, eggs, fruits. It thinks of fountains, ships, stables, fields, sick animals. It does not forget bees, wax, tools. It sanctifies water, light, fire, incense. There is nothing it does not encounter with sympathy, even tenderness. It is surprised at none of the most recent discoveries: machines, railways, automobiles, airplanes, telegraph, seismograph and soon television. It encompasses everything, it admits everything for man’s good use and as related to his eternal destiny for which, as stressing in the liturgy, those mysterious elements serve as symbols. (Priests Among Men (New York: Integrity, 1950). Page 63.)

Conventional Narratives

Because the standard text of the ritual is in Latin, it is commonly thought that the beauty of the ritual and the full richness of the sacraments were not understood by the laity for most of Christian history. Conventional histories of Catholic liturgical reform assume that advocacy for the vernacular in the sacraments, and pastoral concern for the laity, were modern trends stemming from the twentieth century Liturgical Movement. Thanks to these calls for reform (so the narratives go) the Second Vatican Council finally changed things and ushered in a new era of vernacular ritual books where the laity could understand things for the first time beginning in 1964.

The Catholic Transcript, Aug. 20, 1964, p. 1, via Catholic News Archive

The 1954 English Ritual

But that was not the first time that a Vatican-approved vernacular ritual had been published and promoted around the globe. More than a decade before, in November 1953, the American Bishops unanimously approved a version of the ritual for the United States which allowed almost all the sacraments and blessings it contained to be said officially in the English. This ritual – which is now almost entirely forgotten – was approved by the Holy See and published to great fanfare in December 1954.

The St Louis Register, Dec. 24, 1954, p, 9, via Catholic News Archive.

The 1954 English Ritual was titled Collectio Rituum, or “Collection of Rites.” It was heralded as a major victory for the Liturgical Movement in America, which had worked to promote the project since 1947. The English Ritual had been championed by Bishop Edwin V. O’Hara of Kansas City, Missouri (a long-time supporter of the Liturgical Movement and one of the most influential American prelates of the twentieth century), and brought to fruition by two key Liturgical Movement figures: Rev. Gerald Ellard, SJ, and Rev. Michael Mathis, CSC.

The US Bishops’ news service heavily promoted the 1954 English Ritual, and everyone anticipated it would be popular and widely adopted. Although it had been originally created for use in America, interest in the 1954 English Ritual soon spread to English-speaking lands throughout the world. Within one year of publication, the Holy See had granted permission for Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India, Burma, Ceylon, and Malaya to use the American ritual.

But it soon became clear that the 1954 English Ritual was not very popular after all. There was no widespread clamor for the ritual amongst the clergy and laity, and the reactions of the bishops themselves were mixed. Some bishops only partially permitted its use in their dioceses, while others (like Francis Cotton of Owensboro, Kentucky) refused to authorize it at all, despite the fact that they had voted to approve it only a year prior!

St Louis Register, Jul. 29, 1955, p. 2 of sec. 2; via Catholic News Archive

In November 1956, less than two years after initial publication, the American bishops secretly voted to put an end to the failed Collectio Rituum and replace it with a new edition. The replacement ritual, eventually published in 1961, contained substantially less vernacular than the original and undid almost all of the innovations of the 1954 edition.

It was a bitter defeat for liturgical reform. Those in the Liturgical Movement took pains to avoid any public discussion of this reversal, and they redoubled their efforts to secure lasting victory for the vernacular at the upcoming ecumenical council.

The Pittsburgh Catholic, Sept. 28, 1961, p. 7 of the arts section; via Catholic News Archive

A New Study of Ritual Books

In a research project more than two years in the making, “Forgotten English Rituals: The Collectio Rituum of 1954 and the untold history of the vernacular administration of the sacraments”, I use uncited primary and archival sources to provide a comprehensive study of the origins, demise, and cover-up of the landmark American Collectio Rituum. But the story of vernacular administration of the sacraments does not originate with the English Ritual of 1954. Indeed, there is a vast and almost totally neglected history of the official use of English in Catholic ritual books which I also explore for the first time.

For centuries, rituals used in English-speaking lands throughout the world contained officially permitted vernacular. There are so many different versions that it is frankly impossible to list them all. In an appendix, for example, I offer an incomplete bibliographic catalog of 25 different ritual books which contained English permissions. Even with this limited list of 25 different rituals, I discovered at least 128 editions issued by at least 35 Catholic publishers. Of these, fully 112 editions of 18 titles were published before 1954!

The ‘Visitation and Care of the Sick’ permitted in English. Page detail from the 1812 Ordo Administrandi Sacramenta, the ritual book published for official use in England and Wales.

To better explore the history of English in the administration of the sacraments, I analyzed the content of 21 different rituals published between 1738 and 1962. I chose 16 different sacramental rites and blessings from the ritual, (e.g. baptism, marriage, extreme unction, blessing of sick children, etc) and discretely analyzed which portions of each of these ceremonies were officially permitted to be given in English as the authentic liturgical text.

List of the 21 English Rituals studied in Forgotten English Rituals

List of the 16 Sacraments and blessings studied in “Forgotten English Rituals”

Findings

Through this content analysis, we gain a much richer understanding of the centuries-long tradition of vernacular in the administration of the sacraments and are able to compare different rituals on a one-to-one basis. The results are fascinating: for some sacraments and blessings, these older rituals contain just as much official vernacular text as the 1954 English Ritual… in some cases, they contain more!

Summary table of vernacular content analysis

Table of vernacular content analysis for the sacrament of marriage, from “Forgotten English Rituals”. Blue “E” sections are permitted in vernacular, while White “L” or “L (pe)” sections are required in Latin.

To help set the history of English vernacular rituals into a wider context, I also studied the official vernacular content in the Sacrament of Baptism across 26 additional European rituals between 1450 and 1929. These rituals are mainly drawn from Spanish, French, German, Hungarian, and Czech lands, but there were many others which could also have been included. Indeed, there are such a vast number of these rituals that this research cannot hope to be more than an introduction and starting point.

While there has long been awareness of the existence of vernacular in some historic European ritual books, particularly from German-speaking lands, this research breaks new ground by quantitatively analyzing the content of the rituals from multiple nations and comparing them in the same one-to-one manner as the English rituals mentioned above. It also includes previously unstudied ritual books (for example, none of the 16 German-language ritual books included in this research are cited in Hermann Reifenberg’s magisterial 1971 study of medieval German rituals and their vernacular content).

List of the 26 European Rituals studied in “Forgotten English Rituals”

The use of vernacular in these historical European rituals is fascinating. In some, the vernacular is printed alongside the Latin and the rubrics state one or the other can be used... in other cases, only the vernacular is printed without Latin even as an option. In several rituals, even the sacramental form itself was officially permitted in the vernacular!

Portions of various European ritual books. At top: the renunciations from the sacrament of baptism in Ritual #V (1803 Paris), an example of both Latin and vernacular being printed in the ritual text with either permitted (“Latin or French”). Middle: the introductory dialogue from the sacrament of baptism in Ritual #C (1597 Coutances), an example of only the vernacular being printed in the ritual text, without Latin even as an option. Bottom: the conditional form of baptism given exclusively in French in Ritual #J (1642 Orleans).

Conclusion

In addition to the rediscovery and analysis of historic vernacular ritual books, this research also surveys the campaign for modern reform which swept the church beginning in the very first years of the twentieth century – preceding even the modern Liturgical Movement. These modernization efforts ultimately resulted in an ever-expanding push for vernacular permissions (beyond the organic customs of the past) and the revision and replacement of the ritual texts themselves (many of which had remained nearly unchanged since at least the eighth century). The rise and fall of the remarkable 1954 American Collectio Rituum, told in full for the first time, is thus revealed to be both a crucial bridge between ancient traditions and the modern age, as well as a hitherto overlooked ‘tipping point’ in the story of liturgical reform.

“Forgotten English Rituals” overturns conventional histories by demonstrating the widespread and official use of the vernacular in the administration of the sacraments in the centuries before the Second Vatican Council. These findings also complicate modern debates about the role of the vernacular itself as a contributing factor to the catastrophic post-conciliar decline of sacramental practice.

Beyond the narrative history, the study includes almost 60 pages of photographs and 40 pages of detailed data in appendices. It is my hope that this work can serve as a starting point for future research, which this subject so clearly deserves.