The Feasts of St. Benedict and Their Proper Texts in Benedictine Churches

Catholics attentive to the sanctoral cycle will have noticed two feasts of St. Benedict that appear in the calendar (depending on your location and the form of the Mass): the dies natalis of March 21, which almost always falls during Lent, and the summer feast on July 11, which historically originated as a feast of the translation of relics but has been simply accepted by most Benedictines as an opportune time to celebrate their holy father. Traditionally March 21 has no octave due to Lenten austerity but July 11 has a jubilant octave. In the Tridentine calendar, March 21 is the only feast of the saint, and sadly since John XXIII the day is rarely given over to the great patriarch of Western monasticism. Even if the feast is observed, it would be observed with the “Os Justi” Common.

However, Benedictines who keep their own traditions rejoice in three proper Masses for their holy founder: one on March 21; another on July 11; and a third on July 18 for the octave. I thought it would interest NLM readers to see the proper texts for all three, which are conveniently found in an appendix to the St. Andrew Daily Missal (reprint of the 1945 edition). I do not know if any other founder of a religious “order” (taking that term in the broadest possible sense) enjoys such a profusion of proper Masses! The texts are extraordinarily rich and well-suited to the saint, a luminous exemplar of how the usus antiquior coalesces its changing texts around the figure of a saint as an icon of Christ, as a figure that fulfills in his life the message of Sacred Scripture.

I would draw the reader's attention particularly to the Sequence and the proper Preface.

We should bear in mind thatt the July 11th feast as the translation of St Benedict’s relics, while very old, was not universally celebrated by the OSB before the 19th century, and the recasting of it as the “solemnity of St Benedict” with an octave is rather recent. E.g., it is not in this edition of the breviary from 1831.

UPDATE (7/12/22): I have been informed by several people that there is yet another feast of St. Benedict observed in some monasteries, namely, a December 11th "In Veneratione et Repositione Sacrae Reliquiae Capitis SS. Patriarchae Nostri Benedicti." I have not been able to get hold of the Propers but here's a screenshot that was shared with me:
 

March 21

The March 21st propers are conveniently available as a PDF online, from which the following images have been extracted.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Are Women Permitted to Sing the Propers of the Mass?

In the wider Catholic world, the question posed in the title is not even on the radar screen. If you can have altar girls and female lectors — indeed, apparently, acolytesses and lectresses, in a veritable salmagundi of sanctuary servants — then why not women singing music for the Mass? (Never mind the fact that the concept of “propers” has more or less disappeared outside the world of the usus antiquior.) However, traditionalists, myself included, reject both altar girls and female lectors, arguing that it is only appropriate for males to fill these roles, and, in general, that the patronizing and vocationally deviant clericalization of the laity should be avoided. It might therefore be thought that, as a matter of logical consistency, we ought to maintain that women should not form a chant schola to execute the propers of the Mass. Yet this conclusion does not follow.

While I am an adamant opponent of feminism, I am no less staunch an opponent of chauvinism wherever I see it — and I do see it reappearing in the traditional movement, along with other -isms (e.g., antisemitism, libertarianism, sedevacantism) that are incompatible with Catholic tradition. The revival of traditional liturgical practice has permitted the reappearance of some extreme points of view that deserve refutation. For example, not only have I heard traditionalists argue against women singing the propers; I’ve heard them argue that none of the laity whatsoever should sing any of the Mass Ordinary or responses. (On that last point, see here, here, and here.)

The point of departure for the question on women chanters is the rather blunt statement of Pope St. Pius X in his famous 1903 motu proprio Tra le Sollecitudini:

With the exception of the melodies proper to the celebrant at the altar and to the ministers, which must be always sung in Gregorian chant, and without accompaniment of the organ, all the rest of the liturgical chant belongs to the choir of levites, and, therefore, singers in the church, even when they are laymen, are really taking the place of the ecclesiastical choir…. On the same principle it follows that singers in church have a real liturgical office, and that therefore women, being incapable of exercising such office, cannot be admitted to form part of the choir. Whenever, then, it is desired to employ the acute voices of sopranos and contraltos, these parts must be taken by boys, according to the most ancient usage of the Church.

Stated thus, it sounds cut and dried. But is it self-evident that “all the rest of the liturgical chant” (would this include the Ordinary?) “belongs to the choir of levites” (whatever that means exactly)? It seems that Pius X has in view singers in the sanctuary or the “choir” area of a transept of a monastic-style church, where their placement and vesture suggest that they are performing a ministerial function. The operative conception here, it seems to me, is that of a cathedral, seminary, or boys’ school.

If singers are, in contrast, somewhere in the nave, whether on the floor or up in a loft, it is more difficult to see that they constitute a “choir of levites” with a “real liturgical office.” Just as laywomen were not forbidden to sing the Ordinary of the Mass (indeed Pius X and his successors encouraged this) even though the Ordinary is manifestly a liturgical text also said by ordained ministers, by the same logic women would be competent to sing the propers.

To make the situation clearer, Pius XII in his encyclical Musicae Sacrae of 1955 lifted the ban for lay women as long as they were not in the sanctuary (the internal quotations are from three earlier decisions of the Sacred Congregation of Rites):

Where it is impossible to have schools of singers [scholae cantorum] or where there are not enough choir boys, it is allowed that “a group of men and women or girls, located in a place outside the sanctuary set apart for the exclusive use of this group, can sing the liturgical texts at Solemn Mass, as long as the men are completely separated from the women and girls and everything unbecoming is avoided. The Ordinary is bound in conscience in this matter.”

Granted, Pacelli’s words are not exactly a resounding encouragement to have women, but it shows that there is no ban on women singing, as long as they are outside the sanctuary.

Let’s think this through, with attention to the symbolism of church architecture. The development of choir lofts, which can certainly be said to be the norm in most churches built in the century prior to Vatican II, perfectly accords with the role of the choir as a body that provides chant and polyphony for the liturgy, with mixed voices as needed or desired, and in a way that does not involve the singers in the ceremonies taking place below. This preserves the anonymity of the choir and bypasses the danger of distraction for the congregation, since the musicians do not so easily risk “putting on a show.” If the propers can be sung polyphonically with men and women, does that not establish that women may sing the propers by themselves?

Admittedly there is a longstanding tradition of having only men singing, inasmuch as the choir was seen as fulfilling a properly liturgical role. Yet just as it is possible for altar boys to substitute for acolytes, and even for any laity (such as girls in a girls’ school) to make the responses at Mass provided they are in the pews and not in the sanctuary, so too it is possible for non-vested laity to substitute for a properly liturgical choir. Put differently, lay people from outside the choir area can fulfill a liturgical function, but not in a properly liturgical manner, which would involve their being vested and being more closely associated with the ritual action in or near the sanctuary, as we see in solemn Vespers when the singers in cassock and surplice process into the sanctuary, genuflect, bow to each other, and split off to their seats on the sides for the chanting of the psalmody. (It also seems clear enough that whenever there is a schola of clergy or male religious singing the propers, as Pius X envisioned, women should not join them.)

We should also take into account the not inconsiderable witness of centuries of women religious singing the sacred liturgy, and doing so not because there are no men around to do it (although that will usually be true), but because it is proper to themselves: it is a requirement of their consecrated life, expected and indeed demanded of them by the Church. They do not “substitute” for anyone else but do it by a right proper to and inherent in them. Moreover, depending on the order or congregation, the nuns might perform this opus Dei in the choir area of a monastery church (still with a symbolic separation from the sanctuary), chanting all the parts of the Mass except those of the major ministers. It is true that this fact in and of itself does not establish an analogous right for unconsecrated lay women to do the same, but it does establish, once and for all, that women as such are not disqualified from singing the chants of the liturgy, provided that good order is maintained.

Once again we can see what a fine and helpful development the choir loft was, and why it should be present in every Catholic church. How many blessed hours of my life have been spent in choir lofts, leading or singing with scholas and choirs of men and women, in Santa Paula, California; in Washington, D.C., and Silver Spring, Maryland; in Gaming and Vienna, Austria; in Lander, Wyoming and in Lincoln, Nebraska!

We cannot leave history and prudence behind. There has been an evolution in the attitudes toward women in the Church, even while we still hold fast to the ancient truth, now contradicted by Pope Francis, that women should not be vested and serving in ministerial roles (cf. 1 Cor 14:34). One need look no further than the redoubtable Justine Ward to see that women were heavily involved in the resurgence of Gregorian chant in the twentieth century and taught people how to sing it, which means that they were in the lay schola.

It’s not clear to me what we could possibly gain by trying to prevent women from singing the propers, provided the singers are musically qualified (and the same holds, obviously, for men — no one’s sex makes him or her more adept for the art of singing). Unlike the minor orders of acolyte and lector, there has never been a minor order of cantor/singer. It is therefore impossible to classify women singers along with altar girls/acolytesses and female readers/lectresses as part of the same progressive “slippery slope” for the ordination of women as deacons or priests. Musicologists and musicians are free to argue about whether a higher-pitched or lower-pitched rendering of chant works better from the point of view of liturgical aesthetics, and sociologists or anthropologists of religion could argue about cultural expectations and associations, etc., but none of this pertains to the question at hand.

On a practical level, unless there is some extenuating circumstance like a CMAA Sacred Music Colloquium with its pedagogical aims, it would be strange to have a men’s schola and a women’s schola dividing up tasks at the same liturgy; this is best avoided. When only men or only women are singing the propers, the worshiper can more easily forget about it and pay attention to the chants, the texts, and the ceremonies. When the two scholas go back and forth, it draws attention to the octave difference between men and women — that is, it draws attention to the performers, which is not ideal. Similarly, chant sung by men and women simultaneously is sometimes an unavoidable necessity, but chant tends to sound best in a true unison, not in organum of parallel octaves. If a chapel or parish has two scholas, a men’s and a women’s, it would be better to have one or the other sing all the propers at Mass. This is what I did at Wyoming Catholic College. The men’s schola sang multiple times a week; at a certain point, a women’s schola was created to give the women a chance to immerse themselves more fully in the chant and to give the men a much-needed rest. Here, too, a certain complementarity developed that was beneficial for all.

Visit Dr. Kwasniewski’s website, SoundCloud page, and YouTube channel.

The Ultimate Communion Antiphon Book for the Usus Antiquior

Most singers of chant will be familiar with the old workhorse Communio by Richard Rice (CMAA, 2008), my own copy of which is so well-thumbed and beaten up it’s a wonder it still holds together. Others may be familiar with the Solesmes publication Versus Psalmorum et Canticorum (repr. CMAA, 2008), which contains pointed psalm texts for the Introits and Communions of the entire liturgical year. Although I used both of these books for many years as a choir director, I have discovered a new volume that definitively surpasses them for Sundays and Holy Days.

In November of 2019, I visited Houston to give four lectures, and while there, I decided to “crash” the Schola practice on Sunday at the FSSP parish, Regina Caeli. The singers were gracious and let me join them for the High Mass. At one point, the director, Kyle Lartigue, handed me a book: Ad Communionem: Antiphons and Psalms (Justitias Books, 2016), which, I discovered, was Mr. Lartigue’s own production.

Unlike the other communion books available, which either lack the antiphons and full musical notation (Versus Psalmorum) or utilize the awkward and untraditional Nova Vulgata for the psalm texts, Ad Communionem includes the antiphons for all Sundays and first-class Holy Days, followed by the pertinent psalm from the preconciliar Vulgate, notated in square notes. (The old Vulgate verses are a breeze to sing for those who are familiar with the Missale Romanum and the Breviarium Romanum or the Breviarium Monasticum.) Ad Communionem also includes Psalm 33 and the Gloria Patri in all modes, and an appendix with the Adoro Te and Ubi Caritas. The antiphons are organized not alphabetically (as in Rice’s book, where one must rely on the index) but by Sunday and feastday in chronological order, which makes it much easier to use. While the Solesmes book is more comprehensive, it merely “points” the texts rather than musically notating them, and both the poor quality of the reproduction (many times removed from its original) and the typographical conventions contribute to confusion and stumbling performances.

It’s exactly what I’d want my own schola to have, and in fact when I returned from Houston I asked the pastor in my town if he would buy a bunch of copies for our choir loft. This book deserves to be standard issue for every TLM schola in the English-speaking world. (I should mention that the antiphons and verses are accompanied by an inline English translation from the Douay-Rheims, which closely matches the Latin sense.)
 

Having a Communion antiphon book with psalm verses (regardless of which of the above three options is used) allows the cantors and/or schola to sing however many verses may be needed to prolong or shorten the music for a particular occasion. Sometimes more than one priest is distributing communion and it goes quickly; at others times perhaps there is an overflow crowd and only one priest distributing, which can take quite some time. The chanting of psalm verses has many benefits: the texts are liturgically appropriate and the music is very much in the background, as it should be; the overall effect is calming and prayerful, but the recurrence of the antiphon adds a welcome contrast to the simplicity of the psalm tones, and impresses the repeated text and melody in the minds of all who listen to it. The format also allows for maximum flexibility in musical forces. One can arrange it this way: antiphon (sung by all); verse (begun by cantor and completed by schola); antiphon; etc. Or: antiphon (sung by all); odd verse (sung by cantor); even verse (sung by all); antiphon; etc. Or instead of cantor and tutti, the schola may be divided into two halves. The simple format allows for a ready use of isons and organum.

Now that the TLM is coming back all over the place, Ad Communionem: Antiphons and Psalms is, I would maintain, a required tool for everyone who sings the proper chants. It is one of two books I always carry with me to the choir loft (the other being my Liber Usualis). The book is available in paperback and hardcover. A large sample of the pages may be found here. An index may be found here.

Mr. Lartigue has also produced a number of other books: a newly-typeset Latin edition of the traditional Martyrologium Romanum (updated through 1961, with an appendix of saints canonized after that year); a two-volume edition of traditional Sunday Vespers; Holy Week chants and a complete Kyriale. All of these books are newly typeset and more affordable than their competitors.

Pay a visit to his website: https://justitiasbooks.com/.

Where Do I Start? A Pastoral Plan for Changing a Parish Music Program - & More!

In light of the current situation, many parishes are looking at an opportunity to introduce the sung proper chants in their Masses, change out old hymnals for new resources, or implement the chants of the Roman Missal. Where does one start when thinking about the best way to improve a music program? How can you bring people along, deepening their faith as the music program becomes more robust? As we wrap up season 2 of Square Notes, episode 19 with Dr. Mary Jane Ballou addresses these questions.

Episode 18 takes you behind the scenes of the exciting new Neumz project, its app, its largest-in-history recording project, and the life of the sisters at Notre Dame de Fidelité in Jouques, France. 

Episode 20, our final episode for this season, presents a homily by Dom Mark Kirby, OSB, founding prior of Silverstream Priory in Ireland, about the chants for the 5th Sunday after Pentecost. In it, you'll find a robust model for Lectio Divina and biblical exegesis when meditating on a chant. 

Episode 18 – 7000+ Hours of Gregorian Chant: Behind the Scenes at the Neumz Project – with John Anderson & Alberto Díaz-Blanco

YouTube

Episode 19 – Where Do I Start? A Pastoral Plan for Changing a Parish Music Program – with Dr. Mary Jane Ballou

YouTube

Episode 20 – Lectio Divina and Biblical Exegesis of Gregorian Chants for the 5th Sunday after Pentecost – with Dom Mark Kirby, OSB

YouTube

On Feast of Holy Name, Tradition Crushes Rupture, 27–7

In a short but pungent article at CatholicCulture.org (“Guess Whose Name Is Missing?”), Phil Lawler notes the following curious fact about the optional memorial of the Holy Name of Jesus on January 3 in the Novus Ordo calendar:

Today, January 3, the Church calendar offers us the (optional) feast of the Holy Name of Jesus. At Mass the entrance antiphon reminds us, “At the name of Jesus, every knee should bend…” And then something curious happens. Through the rest of the proper prayers crafted especially for the day’s celebration, guess what Name is never mentioned. Right.
       Take, just for example, the Collect: “O God, who founded the salvation of the human race on the Incarnation of your Word, give your peoples the mercy they implore, so that all may know there is no other name to be invoked but the Name of your Only Begotten Son. Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.”
       Isn’t there an obvious place there, right before “Who lives and reigns,” for the invocation of the name of Jesus? I mean, isn’t that kinda the point?
       The Offertory prayer, similarly, speaks of “the Name that saves” — but does not mention it. The Communion prayer alludes to the sacrifice “to honor Christ’s Name,” which is honored in silence.
       Could someone please explain to me why, on the day that we celebrate the name of Jesus, we don’t celebrate the name of Jesus?

That is an excellent question, Mr Lawler. And given the fact that in many places, the “entrance antiphon” is neither sung nor recited, it is quite possible that what he is calling the “proper prayers” of the Novus Ordo Mass would not mention the Holy Name once on the putative and optional feastday in honor of it. [1]

How illuminating it is to turn, for the sake of contrast, to the traditional feast of the Holy Name of Jesus, which is obligatorily celebrated on the Sunday after the Octave of the Nativity, that is, the first Sunday of the New Year (or, if that Sunday happens to be January 1, 6, or 7, then on January 2). For comparative purposes, I would like to enlarge the definition of the Proper of the Mass to include the readings of the day. A quick glance at the old Proper shows that the Holy Name will be mentioned (no options involved) TWELVE times. Notably, the full doxology is retained after the Secret and Postcommunion in the traditional rite, whereas the new rite opts for the short form “per Christum.” The theological richness of the prayers deserves to be noted, in comparison to their easy-listening replacements. [2]

Introit. In nomine Jesu omne genuflectatur, cælestium, terrestrium, et infernorum: et omnis lingua confiteatur, quia Dominus Jesus Christus in gloria est Dei Patris. Ps. 8. 2 Domine Dominus noster: quam admirabile est nomen tuum in universa terra. V. Glória Patri. In nomine Jesu…
(In the Name of Jesus let every knee bow, of those that are in heaven, on earth, and under the earth; and let every tongue confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father. Ps. O Lord, our Lord, how wonderful is Thy Name in the whole earth. Glory be to the Father. In the Name of Jesus…)

Collect. Deus, qui unigenitum Filium tuum, constituisti humani generis Salvatorem, et Jesum vocari jussisti: concede propitius; ut, cujus sanctum nomen veneramur in terris, ejus quoque aspectu perfruamur in cælis. Per eumdem Dominum nostrum Jesum Christum…
(O God, Who didst appoint Thine only begotten Son the Saviour of mankind, and didst bid that He should be called Jesus: mercifully grant that we may enjoy the vision of Him in Heaven, Whose holy Name we venerate on earth. Through the same our Lord Jesus Christ…)

Epistle. In diebus illis: Petrus repletus Spiritu Sancto, dixit: Principes populi et seniores, audite: Si nos hodie dijudicamur in benefacto hominis infirmi, in quo iste salvos factus est, notum sit omnibus vobis, et omni plebi Israel: quia in nomine Domini nostri Jesu Christi Nazareni, quem vos crucifixistis, quem Deus suscitavit a mortuis, in hoc iste adstat coram vobis sanus. Hic est lapis, qui reprobatus est a vobis ædificantibus: qui factus est in caput anguli: et non est in alio aliquo salus. Nec enim aliud nomen est sub cælo datum hominibus, in quo oporteat nos salvos fieri.
(In those days: Peter filled with the Holy Ghost, said to them: Ye princes of the people and ancients, hear: If we this day are examined concerning the good deed done to the infirm man, by what means he hath been made whole, be it known to you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth, Whom you crucified, Whom God hath raised from the dead, even by Him this man standeth before you whole. This is the stone which was rejected by you the builders, which is become the head of the corner: neither is there salvation in any other. For there is no other name under heaven given to men, whereby we must be saved.)

Gospel. In illo tempore: Et postquam consummati sunt dies octo, ut circumcideretur puer vocatum est nomen ejus Jesus, quod vocatum est ab Angelo priusquam in utero conciperetur.
(At that time: After eight days were accomplished that the child should be circumcised; His Name was called Jesus, which was called by the Angel before He was conceived in the womb.) [3]

Secret. Benedictio tua, clementissime Deus, qua omnis viget creatura, sanctificet, quæsumus, hoc sacrificium nostrum, quod ad gloriam nominis Filii tui, Domini nostri Jesu Christi, offerimus tibi: ut majestati tuæ placere possit ad laudem, et nobis proficere ad salutem. Per eumdem Dominum nostrum Jesum Christum…
(May Thy blessing, by which all creatures live, hallow, we beseech Thee, most merciful God, this our sacrifice which we offer to Thee to the glory of the Name of Thy Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, that it may please Thy majesty and bring Thee praise, and avail us unto salvation. Through the same our Lord Jesus Christ…)

Postcommunion. Omnipotens æterne Deus, qui creasti et redemisti nos, respice propitius vota nostra: et sacrificium salutaris hostiæ, quod in honorem nominis Filii tui, Domini nostri Jesu Christi, majestati tuæ obtulimus, placido et benigno vultu suscipere digneris; ut gratia tua nobis infusa, sub glorioso nomine Jesu, æternæ prædestinationis titulo gaudeamus nomina nostra scripta esse in cælis. Per eundem Dominum nostrum Jesum Christum…
(O almighty and everlasting God Who didst create and redeem us, look graciously upon our prayer, and with a favourable and benign countenance deign to accept the sacrifice of the saving Victim, which we have offered to Thy Majesty in honour of the Name of Thy Son, our Lord Jesus Christ: that through the infusion of Thy grace we may rejoice that our names are written in heaven, under the glorious Name of Jesus, the pledge of eternal predestination. Through the same our Lord Jesus Christ…)

The sweet Name occurs over and over again, as if one could not speak it enough — as in the great office hymn “Jesu dulcis memoria.” One sees clearly how this feast originated with the Franciscans, one of whose greatest preachers, St. Bernardine of Siena (about whom I have written here), chose the Holy Name for his special devotion and insignia.

What if we add a consideration of the Ordinary of the Mass? In the traditional celebration of the Holy Name, the Mass (whether it falls on a Sunday or a weekday) always includes the Gloria and the Credo; the Novus Ordo celebration would not include either. The Gloria mentions the Holy Name twice; the Credo mentions it once; the prayer at the mingling of water and wine, once; the Suscipe sancta Trinitas, once; the Roman Canon, thrice; the embolism, once; the commingling, once; the priestly prayers of preparation for holy communion, thrice; the taking of communion by the priest, twice. Not including all the times the Holy Name is pronounced with each act of giving communion to the faithful (“Corpus Domini nostri Jesu Christi…), this adds up to FIFTEEN times, for a total of 27 (12+15).

In the Novus Ordo, the Ordinary of the Mass on this day would mention the Holy Name possibly once at the start, if the second or third greeting formula were chosen; not a single time during the Offertory; then a variable number depending on the Eucharistic Prayer chosen (for EP I, 3 times; for EP II, 2 times; for EP III, 2 times; for EP IV, once); once in the embolism; once in the post-embolism prayer; once in the priestly preparation for communion (since there is an option between two prayers). This adds up to anywhere from 4 to 7 times.

Taking the Proper and Ordinary together, this brings the total number of mentions of the Holy Name on its Novus Ordo memorial to 4 at a minimum and 13 at a maximum. If I were a betting man, I would place my bet on 7 as the most likely number, assuming the following: recitation of the entrance antiphon, the use of greeting #2, the standard lectionary readings rather than special ones, [4] and EP II.

So, in a comparison simply of texts, we would be looking at an obligatory 27 mentions of the Holy Name of Jesus in the course of the TLM, versus an optional approximately 7 mentions of the Holy Name in the Novus Ordo, give or take a few.

We know that the liturgy is so much more than the texts out of which it is composed. It is the chants to which the texts are sung (or not sung). It is the ensemble of gestures and ceremonies performed by the ministers, the collection of signs and symbols that bring to mind the mysteries of our Faith while pointing to what eludes our rational grasp. Nevertheless, the liturgy still IS a textual reality, however many other layers it has; and what we say — and how often we say it — matter profoundly. One cannot automatically assume that more is always better, since then we might as well say the Holy Name a hundred times, or a thousand. The liturgy, as such, is not the Jesus Prayer. But we can assume that a certain number of mentions is appropriate for a feast day held in honor of that very Name by which we are saved; we can assume, moreover, that a severe reduction in the number of mentions, against a fuller tradition of several centuries’ duration, is altogether inappropriate. This would not be, alas, the first or the only time the reformed liturgical books displayed such a disconnect from warm tradition and meet devotion.

It is comparisons like this — which are not difficult to come by on the internet or in books — that prompt one to ask: Where is the true patrimony of our Church, liturgical, devotional, theological, best preserved and celebrated? In the traditional rite, or in a “banal on-the-spot fabrication” that cannot even properly celebrate the personal name of the founder of Christianity?

A night that lasted fifty years is passing; a new day is at hand. As the Christmas season so often says, let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light, for the honor and glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ.

NOTES

[1] It is, as usual, difficult to talk about how often the Holy Name would be mentioned at a Novus Ordo Mass on January 3, because of the moving target nature of the options (something I discuss in an old article).

[2] For a comparison of the Collects, see this article.

[3] This is the totality of the Gospel! Only one verse: the shortest in the traditional calendar. The Novus Ordo also goes to this portion of Luke, but expands it to Luke 2:21-24, which does not have the same impact and focus; it becomes a mere doublet of the Presentation.

[4] There are multiple optional readings, with, accordingly, varying mentions of the Name: 3 times (1 Cor 1:1-3), 3 times (Phil 2:6-11), or once (Col 3:12-17) in the reading from Paul; and once in the reading from Luke. I have seen with my own eyes, and I imagine most who are reading this have also seen, that the regular daily lectionary readings are more frequently used than votive readings, regardless of what memorial is on offer, so there is no guarantee that any of the possibilities for the Votive Mass of the Holy Name of Jesus will be actualized on January 3.

Photos in this article are by Fr Lawrence Lew, O.P.

Visit Dr. Kwasniewski’s website for articles, sacred music, and classics reprinted by Os Justi Press, his SoundCloud page for lectures, interviews, and readings, and YouTube for lectures and sacred music.

“They That Are Christ’s Have Crucified Their Flesh with the Vices and Concupiscences”

Monastic authors steeped in lectio divina often bear witness to the “liturgical providence of God.” Experience confirms again and again that the texts offered for us in the sacred liturgy, especially the fixed traditional texts, furnish a key to understanding what is going on in our personal lives at the moment, in our immediate community, in the Church at large, and in the world. The combination of proper antiphons, orations, and readings comes to us from without and presents a message that the attentive preacher or practitioner of lectio divina can tune into. As Dom Mark Kirby writes: “The man who trusts in the liturgical providence of God will never be without a glimmer of light in the night, a spark of fire in the cold, a cup of cold water in the heat, a signpost on the road.”

There are times when the message can be rather subtle, requiring well-trained ears. But there are other times when it seems as if Our Lord is positively whacking us over the head with the obviousness of His message to the Church. One such occasion was surely yesterday’s Mass for the Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost, with readings and orations that the Church has proclaimed on this Sunday for 1,500 years or more — and still does, wherever the Roman Rite endures in its classical form.

The Epistle of the Mass is taken from Galatians, a letter of ever-growing relevance in the ecclesiastical situation in which we find ourselves today (one thinks of such luminous passages as “But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach a gospel to you besides that which we have preached to you, let him be anathema” and “When Cephas [Peter] was come to Antioch, I withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed”), and more particularly, from chapter 5, with its famous contrast between the works of the flesh and the fruit of the Spirit:

Brethren: Walk in the spirit, and you shall not fulfil the lusts of the flesh: for the flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh; for these are contrary one to another, so that you do not the things that you would. But if you are led by the spirit, you are not under the law. Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are fornication, uncleanness, immodesty, luxury, idolatry, witchcrafts, enmities, contentions, emulations, wraths, quarrels, dissensions, sects, envies, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like; of the which I foretell you, as I have foretold to you, that they who do such things shall not obtain the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the spirit is: charity, joy, peace, patience, benignity, goodness, longanimity, mildness, faith, modesty, continency, chastity. Against such there is no law. And they that are Christ’s have crucified their flesh with the vices and concupiscences.

As each day brings with it fresh revelations of clerical corruption in high places — indeed, in the very highest place of all, the seat of Cephas in Rome, whence proceeds a Gospel other than the one Christ and His apostles preached to us — we are comforted and strengthened by hearing these uncompromising words of St. Paul, who assures us that whoever does these works of the flesh, as well as they who approve or support those who do them or fail to take action against them, cannot be acting by the Spirit of Christ. (Indeed, as the Apostle teaches in Romans 1:32, with a nod to the death penalty: “Who, having known the justice of God, did not understand that they who do such things are worthy of death; and not only they that do them, but they also that consent to them that do them.”)

They that are Christ’s have crucified their flesh with the vices and concupiscences. On the very Sunday of the Viganò revelations, this is the message of liturgical providence for the Church in the United States of America, in the Vatican, and everywhere. They that are truly Christ’s will live a mortified life of battle against disordered concupiscence, striving for holiness in a relentless military campaign against interior vices and against the external manifestations of vice over which they have any control, especially if they have been given positions of authority by God.

And lest we rely on our own strength or on that of any earthly protector, the Collect of the Mass and the Gradual teach us where our victory will come from:

Keep, we beseech Thee, O Lord, Thy Church with perpetual peace; and because the frailty of man without Thee cannot but fall, keep us ever by Thy help from all things hurtful, and lead us to all things profitable to our salvation. Through our Lord.

The Gradual of this day’s Mass tells us soberly and simply:

It is good to confide in the Lord, rather than to have confidence in man. V. It is good to trust in the Lord, rather than to trust in princes.

The Introit cries out: “Behold, O God, our protector, and look on the face of Thy Christ”! Many are they who feel like sheep abandoned by their supreme shepherd, abandoned to the wolves. At times like this, we feel and we know that God is our sole protector. Because He is looking on the face of His Christ, His well-beloved Son on whom His favor rests, and seeing us in Him, He loves us and will never abandon us.

In The Saint Andrew Daily Missal from 1945, each Sunday is preceded by a lengthy commentary on the readings and prayers of that day in the Divine Office and in the Mass. I am struck by two things about these commentaries: first, how tough they are (the doctrine is clear, its moral demands are stated with no compromise, and salutary rebukes are offered to the reader as an examination of conscience); second, how apropos they are to the tragic situation of the Church today, since they frequently diagnose the very diseases of intellect, will, and passions that harass us on all sides.

Here is part of the commentary offered for the Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost:

St. Gregory says: “There are men, all athirst for passing joys, who are ignorant or indifferent where eternal blessings are concerned. Poor wretches! They congratulate themselves on possessing the good things of this life without regretting those of the world above, which they have lost. Fashioned for light and truth, they never lift up the eyes of the soul; never betray the smallest desire or longing for the contemplation of their eternal home. Giving themselves over to the pleasures among which they are thrown, they bestow their affection upon a dreary place of exile as if it were their fatherland; and surrounded by darkness, they are full of rejoicing as if they were illumined by a brilliant light. On the other hand, the elect, in whose eyes fleeting goods are of no value, seek after those for which their souls were made. Kept in this world by the bonds of the flesh, each, none the less, is carried in spirit beyond it while making the wholesome resolve to despise the passing things of time and to desire the things which endure for eternity.”[2]

In a rare instance of alignment of liturgical planets, the readings of yesterday’s Ordinary Form Mass, for the Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year B), deliver the same message.

The first reading shows Joshua (Jesus) summoning all the tribes, their elders, their leaders, their judges, and their officers, and asked them whom they will serve — the true God, or the gods of the nations round about. In other words, accommodation to the world, or fidelity to God the revealer? The people respond:

“Far be it from us to forsake the LORD
for the service of other gods.
For it was the LORD, our God,
who brought us and our fathers up out of the land of Egypt,
out of a state of slavery.”

This is the state of slavery St. Paul is describing with his “works of the flesh.”

The Sunday psalm declares:

The LORD has eyes for the just,
and ears for their cry.
The LORD confronts the evildoers,
to destroy remembrance of them from the earth.

The second reading, Ephesians 5:21–32, affirms traditional Catholic doctrine on marriage, with a strong emphasis on its heterosexual essence as a reflection of the relationship of Christ and the Church, with the Church being subordinate to Christ, who calls her to be “holy and without blemish.”

The Gospel, from John chapter 6, begins right after the Lord Jesus has finished His discourse about the Eucharist as the true flesh and blood of the Son of Man: “This saying is hard; who can accept it?” This saying is indeed hard — like the sayings of Jesus about divorce, about celibacy, about welcoming the little children, and about the need for chastity and purity if we would enter the kingdom of heaven. In words that uncannily parallel those of the Epistle in the usus antiquior, Jesus says:

It is the spirit that gives life, while the flesh is of no avail.The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and life.
But there are some of you who do not believe.
Jesus knew from the beginning the ones who would not believe
and the one who would betray him.

Jesus knew from the beginning the ones who would not believe, and the one who would betray him — the lay people, religious, deacons and priests, and bishops, and the Judas in each generation, in whom the features of the Antichrist yet to appear are glimpsed as in a dark mirror.

May the striking liturgical providence of God, displayed on this Sunday of infamy, August 26, 2018, be an aid for us, a confirmation, a consolation, and a challenge, as we strive to reject Satan and his pomps and the works of the flesh, and cleave ever more to Christ the Head of the Church, the gardener who makes the fruit of the spirit grow within and around us.

On the Fifth Sunday after Easter: Fulfilling the Law of Love in the Liturgy

(What follows is a reflection on the Proper of the Mass for the Fifth Sunday after Easter in the usus antiquior, celebrated yesterday morning.)

Today’s Mass is a marvelous reminder and summons to give to the Lord the glory due His Holy Name. The Introit bids us: “Declare it with the voice of joy, and make this to be heard, alleluia: speak it out even to the ends of the earth.” In its breathless exuberance, the opening command does not define what “it” and “this” is! One is reminded of Mary Magdalen in the garden, so focused on the Lord that she says to the man she takes for the gardener: “Sir, if thou hast taken him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him” — as if he already knows her inmost thoughts. The Introit then tells us what “it” and “this” is: “The Lord hath delivered His people, alleluia, alleluia.”

What has He delivered us from? The Lesson speaks of the man who only hears the word and does not do it. This was — this is — the old Adam who hears the Law but does not keep it, the people of Israel who receive the justice of the Law from without, on tables of stone, not yet the mercy of the Law written on their hearts in tongues of fire. We cannot be doers of the word unless the Lord grants us His grace, that “new law” that does not abolish the old law but brings it to completion in our desires and actions. The people of Israel were just like the man who sees himself in a mirror — who knows his true identity as a son of God — but then walks away from the mirror and presently forgets what manner of man he was. The one who has besought and received the grace of Christ, in contrast, “hath looked into the perfect law of liberty and hath continued therein.”

In the Gospel Our Lord teaches us that we must ask for this gift of grace, if we are to become men whose “religion is not in vain” but “clean and undefiled”: “If you ask the Father anything in My Name, He will give it you.” Jesus tells us precisely how to ask: in His Name. The very pattern of all prayer, the public prayer of the liturgy and our personal prayer in the time between liturgies, is thus established: we are to ask the Father for the grace of sonship, in the Name of Jesus, His beloved only-begotten Son, to whom we are joined in the bond of the Holy Spirit. This is trinitarian prayer, and therefore it is true, pleasing, and efficacious prayer. The liturgy is the most perfect embodiment of this prayer, for it is offered by the whole Mystical Body — by Christ Himself as Head, and His people as His members.

Liturgical prayer was not something human beings cobbled together on their own; it was and is a gift received from above, coming down from the Father of lights like every good and perfect gift. Our Lord implies this much in the Gospel when He says: “The hour cometh when I will no more speak to you in proverbs, but will show you plainly of the Father.” All worship before the Sacrifice of the Cross was like a speaking in proverbs — hinting at and pointing towards the grace of Christ, but not containing it and effecting it. In the fullness of time, in the institution of the sacraments and especially of the Mass, and in the organic unfolding of this worship over time, Christ shows us plainly of the Father, revealing His face ever more to us, His children, “for the Father Himself loveth you.”

Like the Son who “came out from God” — “I came forth from the Father and am come into the world” — so too does the liturgy come forth from the Father into the world, making known His love and making Him known and loved. We are like the disciples who can finally cry out: “Behold, now Thou speakest plainly and speakest no proverb.” In the liturgy, that which was in olden times veiled in riddles is revealed in its saving truth, yet still under the veil of our earthly “rites of tender devotion” (haec piae devotionis officia), as the Secret says, by which we “pass over into heavenly glory” (ad coelestem gloriam transeamus).

As if to offer us a perfect illustration and actualization of the teaching of the Gospel as well as of the Lesson, the Church places on our lips two exemplary prayers that complement one another magnificently: the Collect and the Postcommunion. In the former, we pray:

O God, from whom all good things do come [this includes, of course, our good works, and the grace that anticipates, accompanies, and follows them], grant to us, Thy suppliants, that by Thine inspiration we may think what is right, and under Thy guidance perform it. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son…

To be a doer of the word, there must first be the word, the knowledge, the right thought; so that is the first thing for which we pray: “that we may think what is right.” We ask that our intellects be in conformity with the divine Intellect, for God is the first Truth, the source and measure of all truth, outside of whom there is no truth. So far from truth ever becoming an “idol,” as some have idly suggested, the worship of God and adherence to truth are totally coextensive, practically synonymous, and utterly inseparable. But knowing the truth is not enough; we must actually live by it, or in the semitic expression of St. James, “do” the truth. First, we conform; second, we perform.

The Postcommunion, for its part, looks not at knowledge but at desire, not at the cognitive and executive power of man, but at the appetitive power, by which we are inclined towards the good, seeking it and holding on to it:

Grant to us, O Lord, who are filled with strength from this heavenly Table, that we may both desire what is right, and obtain what we desire. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son...

As St. Augustine cleverly says, the Old Law and the New Law have the same ending but different beginnings: timor and amor. The one stems from fear of punishment, the other from love of God. Christianity is not a religion of the abolition of desire, like Buddhism, but a religion of the intensification of the right desire, the desire for God Himself and for eternal life, that comprises, elevates, and transcends all desires. By the strength of the divine food we have received, we are capable of asking and of receiving right desire, desire of what is righteous, and righteousness itself. We can become, like the prophet Daniel, a “man of desires.”

Thus, the Collect and the Postcommunion taken together sum up the entire Christian teaching about law and love, good works and grace. Lord, make us think what is right and then do it; make us desire what is right and obtain it. And this, not by our own lights or strength, but by Thine inspiration and Thy guidance, and by the strength of the Holy Eucharist.

The marvels of the Proper of this Mass are certainly not yet exhausted! For there is an additional dimension to its teaching.

Earlier we said that the liturgy, like the Son of God whom it brings into our midst, comes forth from God into time and shows us plainly the Father. But exactly how does it do this? Not simply through teaching, for then it would be reduced to a didactic vehicle like the old Law, more of those “proverbs” that Jesus says He will surpass with a more potent gift. No, the great Christian liturgy — all the authentic liturgical rites of Eastern and Western Christendom — proceeds rather by way of fulfilling what the verse of the Introit says (or sings): “shout with joy to God, sing ye a psalm to His Name, give glory to His praise.” We do not merely announce in speech the salvation of God; we chant it; we express it in noble neums and mounting melismas, glorious garments, rich vessels and stately ceremonies. We do not merely praise God; we give glory to His praise. What else does this mean, except that, to the very best of our ability and our resources, we expand and deepen the liturgical praise of God with the glory of the Church’s treasuries that she has placed at our disposal? She has lavishly bequeathed on us the gold and silver mined and refined over millennia, and we, for our part, with all the powers of our souls and bodies, take it up to “give glory to His praise.” In this way we fulfill the injunction of the Offertory antiphon: “O bless the Lord our God, ye nations, and heed carefully the voice of His praise.”

How insistent is today’s Mass on this point can be seen from the series of imperatives that characterize its Propers. In the Introit: annuntiate (twice!), jubilate, psalmum dicite, date gloriam — declare, jubilate, utter a psalm, give glory! In the Offertory: benedicite, obaudite — bless, listen carefully! In the Communion: Cantate, cantate, benedicite, bene nuntiate — sing, sing, bless, proclaim it well! A veritable shower of imperatives, like rain falling on saplings or milk fed to children, that we may grow up into cedars of Lebanon, into the fullness of the manhood of Christ! And in its paradoxical way, the solemn liturgy has the schola chanting about announcing while the priest whispers about singing, as if we are being summoned to pray in every possible way at the same time, so that no manner of praise be lacking.

And how well such full and various praise befits an “Easter people”! For “Christ is risen,” as the first Alleluia chants, “and hath shone upon us.” It is through the solemn liturgy that the light of the glorified Christ shines upon us. We are not left in the darkness of proverbs, to wrestle with words alone; the light of the Word Himself shines upon us, the radiance of His glory peers through the splendor of the Church’s liturgical rites, a foretaste of that “heavenly glory” into which we pray to pass over by our “rites of tender devotion.” If the liturgy leads us to the verge of glory, it too must already partake of that glory, as the heliotrope turns to the sun and in its vivid yellow already partakes of the light shining upon it.

May Christ, who hath redeemed us with His precious Blood (cf. Alleluia), unite us now and forever with His high-priestly prayer, that we may declare with His voice and sing with His lips: “The Lord hath delivered His people, allelulia, alleluia.”

Preaching from the Propers of the Mass — An Example from Ireland

(I post the following with the kind permission of Dom Mark Kirby, O.S.B., Prior of the Benedictine Monks of Perpetual Adoration at Silverstream Priory in Ireland. It first appeared at Vultus Christi. Dom Mark has long been a proponent of infusing homilies with the salt and pith of the Propers of the day's Mass, a practice that deserves far more use than it seems to get.—PAK)

LAST THURSDAY, our priest oblates (diocesan priests living in the spirit of the Rule of Saint Benedict, and spiritually anchored in the monastery, whilst labouring in the vineyard of the Lord) met at Silverstream for a day of recollection. I spoke to them of the Propers of the Mass: the Introit, Gradual, Alleluia, Tract, Sequence, Offertory, and Communion, as given in the Roman Missal and in the Roman Gradual. Together we reviewed article 65 of the General Instruction of the Roman Missal, which text authorises the priest to preach on the Proper of the Mass, something rarely done.

65. The homily is part of the Liturgy and is strongly recommended, for it is necessary for the nurturing of the Christian life. It should be an exposition of some aspect of the readings from Sacred Scripture or of another text from the Ordinary or from the Proper of the Mass of the day and should take into account both the mystery being celebrated and the particular needs of the listeners.

Our oblate, Father John Fisher, who serves in a parish that follows the usus recentior, took up the challenge and preached on the Introit of the Mass of the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time. Here is his homily.

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

Save us, O Lord our God! And gather us from the nations, to give thanks to your holy name, and make it our glory to praise you. (Ps 105: 47)

Before the singing of hymns was permitted at Mass after the Second Vatican Council, the introit (or Entrance Antiphon as it is now called) was sung by the choir as the priest made his way to the altar in the entrance procession. Some of you may well remember Canon Pentony’s famous choir singing those beautiful Latin texts. In the modern liturgy, the introit chant has been shortened to a one-line antiphon that is supposed to be sung but is usually recited by the priest. However, this simplification is no excuse for ignoring the meaning and importance of an integral text of the Mass which the Church, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, gives to her children to help them enter more fully into the sacred liturgy they are about to celebrate. Each Mass has its own unique antiphon. It is usually a verse from the psalms, the prayer book which Our Lord himself prayed while he was on earth, or from some other book of the Bible. The antiphon is meant to be a spiritual voice that welcomes us, sets the tone of the Mass of the day and points us in the direction of the deep spiritual meanings that the texts of that particular Mass want to reveal to us. You might sometimes have heard a particular priest welcome people at the start of Mass and say, “The theme of today’s Mass is….”. He needn’t have bothered! The tone or theme has already been set by the Entrance Antiphon.

If the antiphon is a voice, then who is it that is speaking? On rare occasions, on the feasts of saints, it is the voice of the actual saint being commemorated that day. But normally it is one of two voices: either the voice of Christ speaking to the Father, or the voice of the Church (which is the body of Christ) calling to Jesus Christ, her God and spouse. If we look at today’s antiphon it is easy to see that this is the voice of the Church, crying out to her Lord in desperation to save her and to lead her back from her exile so that she can then do what is her very purpose and destiny: to praise and thank her God.

When this psalm was written, the Jewish people experienced the pain of exile and alienation. They were evicted from the Holy Land and had to live for years in exile in Babylon, prisoners of a pagan people who did not share their religion or way of life. This pain has always been felt by the Church throughout her history and is most keenly felt today. The Church, unlike Israel, does not have a country to call her own. Christians must always live and work in a world that does not always accept the teachings of Christ and at times does not even tolerate our beliefs or morals. One of our earliest Christian writings, the Epistle to Diognetus, vividly describes the predicament of Christians in the Roman Empire:

“Christians are not distinguished from the rest of humanity by country, language, or custom. They live in their own countries, but only as aliens; they participate in everything as citizens, and endure everything as foreigners. Every foreign country is their homeland, and every homeland is a foreign country. They marry like everyone else, and have children, but they do not leave their unwanted children to die. They share their food but not their wives. … They live on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven. … They love everyone, and by everyone they are persecuted. They are unknown, yet they are condemned; they are put to death, yet they are brought to life. … They are dishonoured, yet they are glorified in their dishonour; they are slandered, yet they are proven right. They are cursed, yet they bless; they are insulted, yet they offer respect. When they do good, they are punished as evildoers. Those who hate them are unable to give a reason for their hostility. In a word, what the soul is to the body, Christians are to the world.”

Today’s Entrance Antiphon reminds us that the Church has ever lived in this predicament. At certain times and in certain places she feels this alienation more sharply. Catholics here in the north often felt marginalised, aliens in their own country as they endured discrimination and hatred because of their religion. Today, that is the experience of good Catholics throughout the western world as countries that were traditionally Christian become secularised. We increasingly find people with power and the influence of the media not just scorning the gospel but trying to force us to conform to modern values which are profoundly anti-Christian. The ways of the nations, of the ‘modern world’, are not the ways of God. They are not our ways. They leave us hurt and alienated. In a world where liberal capitalism has run amok and over 80% of the world’s profit goes to 1% of its people, Christians can only cry out in the voice of our antiphon: “Save us O Lord! Gather us from the nations.” In our own area, where the fruits of the drug trade which begins with gangs in far off lands, bring only grief and anxiety to families, we can only cry out: “Save us O Lord! Gather us from the nations.” As the right to life of the unborn is threatened throughout Ireland so that the State would no longer “cherish all the children of the nation equally” as the Eighth Amendment currently does, we can only cry out: “Save us O Lord! Gather us from the nations.” And lest we ever become like England where one in five pregnancies now ends in abortion, or like Holland or Belgium where even the vulnerable sick and elderly are also killed, or like Canada where businesses must actually state that they uphold immoral practices including abortion in order to receive government grants, we pray to our Saviour with all our heart: “Save us O Lord! Gather us from the nations.”

In today’s readings God answers this cry. In the first reading he promises to send strong, prophetic leaders to his people who will teach them God’s ways and not the ways of false gods. Please pray at this time for our bishops and for all pro-life workers and politicians that the Lord will strengthen them and help them win the struggle to protect the most basic and precious right to life in Ireland. As Christians it is our duty to pray for this country and all its people and to try to influence it for the good: to be the soul for the body of the country, in the words of the Epistle to Diognetus. Let us not grow weary in this, our sacred duty. Let us pray with the responsorial psalm that our fellow citizens’ hearts will not be hardened but that they will hear the voice of Truth. In the gospel, Jesus defeated the evil spirits. He is the Holy One of God. Against him, the Prince of this world, the devil, cannot stand. As Ven. Fulton Sheen said: “God has his day. The devil has his hour.” Strong in this faith, may we endure our current dark hour in the history of civilisation knowing that soon the day will dawn when Christ the Sun of Justice will once again shine out in all his splendour. If we stay strong in faith and hope and active in charity we will merit some day to reach our true homeland with all the elect gathered from every nation. There will our happiness be complete as we give thanks to God for his mercy and goodness and find our eternal glory in praising Him.

Fr. Samuel Weber’s “Propers of the Mass”: An Interview with Dr. Peter Kwasniewski by Roseanne Sullivan

This interview was originally published in the Homiletic and Pastoral Review, as part of an article by Roseanne Sullivan titled “Propers of the Mass Versus the Four-Hymn Sandwich.” It is reproduced here with the kind permission of the editors of the HPR and Ms. Sullivan.

Chant composer Fr. Samuel Weber, O.S.B., recently published a collection of chant settings titled The Proper of the Mass for Sundays and Solemnities: Chants for the Roman Missal in English. According to Jeffrey Tucker at The Chant Café , “Fr. Weber is truly one of the greatest and most inspired Catholic music scholars, composers, and practitioners of chant in the English-speaking world.” In 2013, Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone recruited Fr. Weber to found the Benedict XVI Institute of Sacred Music and Divine Liturgy at St. Patrick’s Seminary and University in Menlo Park, CA for the Archdiocese of San Francisco.

Dr. Peter Kwasniewski was referred to me by Fr. Weber as a trusted liturgical expert and friend who could knowledgeably answer some questions I had originally submitted to Fr. Weber for an email interview.

You might be wondering, “What’s a Proper?” “What’s an antiphon?” “Who cares?” Only a small percentage of Catholics will have any idea of why chant settings of Mass texts in English are important, so I have written an accompanying article titled, “Propers of the Mass Vs. the Four Hymn Sandwich: Another Way of Looking at The Great Catholic Music Debate.” The accompanying article provides definitions of terms along with some background about how the singing of the Proper parts of the Mass has fallen into disuse as an unintended consequence of the introduction of Masses in the vernacular and why resources like Fr. Weber’s are needed to restore the Proper chants to their proper place in the Mass.

Question 1: Please tell us this first: Why do you think this resource is needed?
Dr. Kwasniewski: Ever since the introduction of the English liturgy, Fr. Weber has been among those asked to provide resources for singing the Mass in English. He had been been answering requests from individuals, parishes, and religious communities for many years. This new book takes care of all requests, as far as the Entrance, Offertory, and Communion antiphons go, as well as a number of other important chants for Holy Week. For this particular project of the Benedict XVI Institute, he provided the following for each of the antiphons:
•  Four levels of settings, so that one cantor or a highly trained choir would have options they could manage, depending on available talent, and
•  Appropriate psalm verses for the antiphons for those who would want them (and they are very helpful, since the same action in the liturgy can take a short time or a long time depending on many factors).

I know that Fr. Weber is also working on organ accompaniments in different keys, as well as SATB settings of verses.

The need for this resource is simple to grasp. The propers (as you no doubt explain in your article) are part of the basic structure of the Roman Rite of the Mass. They are ancient—we find them in the earliest manuscripts we have of the Mass, and they were handed down for centuries. They are part of our inheritance from the apostles, first bishops, and first Christian communities, who were steeped in Jewish worship, and for whom the psalms occupied a central place.

The Psalms came to be the very backbone of the Western liturgical tradition, in the Mass as in the Divine Office, because they are the very prayers Jesus inspired and then carried on His own sacred lips, sang in the synagogues, and offered to the Father on the gibbet of Calvary. There is simply no way to avoid the fact that these Proper chants are not a mere add-on or marginal feature but stand at the very center of our liturgical heritage.

In the days before the Council, when the Low Mass tended to predominate, after permission was given for hymns to be sung during the parts of the Mass where the priest prayed silently, the Propers were still always retained, albeit only recited. The Council asked for High or Sung Mass to become the norm—the Sung Mass as it then existed, where the Propers and the Ordinary would be chanted. But after the Council, chaos broke out, and the Propers, like many other treasures, were abandoned and forgotten.

I see a real parallel between what happened to the Propers and what happened to the man en route to Jericho, who was attacked and left by the side of the road to die. The priest and the Levite passed him by, but the Samaritan stopped, took him up and cared for him, and made sure the man would be restored to full vigor. Jesus identified himself with the Samaritan and asks us to do the same. We are now in a position to be Good Samaritans, take the Propers up again, care for them, and restore them to their fitting role in the Mass.

In short, if we would honor Our Lord and the traditions He Himself inspired in our Church, the Propers need to be restored to their place of honor in the Mass. This collection of chants makes it truly possible and practical to do so in the context of celebrations in English.

Continue Reading this Article. . .