A Special Mass for a Miracle of St Philip Neri

Among the many miracles worked by St Philip Neri in his lifetime was the raising to life of Paolo Massimo, the 14-year old son of his friend Prince Fabrizio Massimo, on March 16, 1583. St Philip had tended the boy spiritually during his long illness, and was sent for when it became clear that he was about to die. He was then living fairly close by at the church of San Girolamo della Carità, but he was celebrating Mass when the messenger arrived, and the boy died before he could finish and be informed. Coming to the Palazzo Massimo, he prayed at the boy’s bedside, sprinkled holy water on his face, and, like the Prophet Elijah, breathed upon his face. He then called his name loudly twice, and Paolo Massimo returned to life.

On seeing his spiritual father at his bedside, the boy asked to confess a sin that he had forgotten; St Philip heard his confession and absolved him of his sins. His family were then allowed back into the room, and witnessed the boy conversing with St Philip for a half an hour, as if he were in perfect health. Paolo’s mother and sister had died a few years earlier, and so St Philip asked him if he were now willing to die, at which the boy replied that he wished to see his mother and sister in Paradise. St Philip then said to him, “Go, and be blessed, and pray to God for me,” at which Paolo Massimo died peacefully in his arms.

In commemoration of this miracle, a special feast is normally celebrated each year on March 16 in the chapel of the Palazzo Massimo, which is still owned and lived in by the same family, and opened to the public on this one day of the year. (This year, however, the building is undergoing a major renovation, and the whole event had to be canceled.) Priests celebrate Mass all morning long at one of the chapel’s three altars, and a main Mass is said later in the morning at the main altar, usually by a cardinal. A proper Mass for the feast was granted by Bl. Pope Pius IX at the behest of Francesco Cardinal Massimo, a member of the family. Here are photographs of the Missal supplement with the proper Mass of the day, taken several years ago by a friend of mine, Mr John Egan.

Introit (Ps. 129) Out of the depths I have cried to thee, O Lord: Lord, hear my prayer. Let thy ears be attentive to the prayer of Thy servant. V. Because with the Lord there is mercy: and with him plentiful redemption. Glory be. Out of the depths.

The Prayer O God, who give us to rejoice by the merits and intercession of Blessed Philip, Thy confessor, grant in Thy mercy that we who through him ask Thy benefits, may obtain the gift of Thy grace. Through our Lord etc.

The Epistle is taken from Mass of Thursday of the Fourth Week of Lent, 4 Kings 4, 25-38, in which the Prophet Elisha raises from the dead the son of the Sunamite woman.

The Gradual (Ps. 70) O Lord, I will be mindful of thy justice alone. Thou hast taught me, O God, from my youth: and unto old age and grey hairs, O God, forsake me not. V. By thee have I been confirmed from the womb: from my mother' s womb thou art my protector. Of thee shall I continually sing.

The Tract (also from Ps. 70, but here incorrectly not labelled separately from the Gradual.) I am become unto many as a wonder, and Thou a strong helper; let my mouth be filled with Thy praise, that I may sing thy glory. V. But I will always hope; and will add to all thy praise. V. Thou hast taught me, O God, from my youth: and till now I will declare Thy wonderful works, until I show forth Thy arm to all the generation that is to come.

The Gospel is Luke 7, 11-16, the raising of the widow of Naim’s son, taken from the same Mass as the Epistle.

The Offertory (Luke 20) Now that the dead rise again, even Moses showeth, at the bush, when he calleth the Lord the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. But He is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for all live unto Him.

The Secret God, who establish and rule Thy people, though these offerings take away the sins by which it is assailed; that ever pleasing unto Thee by the prayers of Blessed Philip, it may also secure under Thy defense. Through our Lord etc.

The Preface (as stated in the decree below, this proper preface for St Philip was first granted to the Congregation of the Oratory in the Kingdom of Spain in 1803.) Truly it is worthy and just ... eternal God, who by the gifts of Thy grace, made the Blessed Philip to burn with the fire of love. And he, inflamed with this ineffable charity, established a new congregation for the profit of souls, and fulfilled in his works the saving counsels which he gave to others. We therefore beseech Thy clemency, that Thou give us joy in his festivity, drive us on by the example of his holy life, teach us by word of his preaching, and protect us by his pleasing supplication. And therefore with the Angels etc.

The Communion (Ps. 40) But do thou, O Lord, have mercy on me, and raise me up again: and I will requite them. By this I know, that thou hast had a good will for me: because my enemy shall not rejoice over me.

The Postcommunion May the ears of Thy mercy be open, o Lord, to the prayers of Thy supplicants; and that Thou may grant what they desire to those who ask, at the intercession of Blessed Philip Thy Confessor, cause them to ask for those thing that please Thee. Through our Lord etc.

The decree by which permission was given in 1846 to celebrate the Mass commemorating the miracle.

St. Philip Neri: A Patron Saint of Traditionalism

St Philip Neri in Ecstasy, 1614 by Guido Reni

As a boy, Saint Philip Romolo Neri (1515-1595), whose feast we celebrate today, was so charming and kind that he was nicknamed Pippo Buono or “Good Little Philip.” Pippo Buono was full of high spirits: when he was eight years old, he saw a donkey laden with fruit standing unattended in a courtyard and jumped onto its back. The startled beast bolted and hurled both itself and its rider into a deep cellar.

Philip left his native Florence at the age of sixteen to learn the business of his father’s cousin, and even though the impressed kinsman wanted to make him his heir, Philip felt called to Rome two years later. He arrived in the Eternal City penniless and took a job as a tutor to the young sons of a fellow Florentine. After another two years he became a student himself, studying philosophy and theology (He had a special fondness for St. Thomas Aquinas). But when after three years Philip felt that his studies were complete, he sold his library and gave the proceeds to the poor. Even decades later, scholars marveled at his theological erudition.

Philip now devoted himself to a love of neighbor, living like a gregarious hermit in the midst of a bustling city. Surviving only on a little bread and some herbs, he visited the Seven Churches of Rome each night and kept vigil in the catacombs of San Sebastian. He began visiting the sick in hospitals and then frequented the piazzas, schools, shops, banks, and rough parts of town such as the warehouse district. His warm conversation melted hearts. In the warehouses he would ask, “Well! my brothers, when shall we begin to do good?” [1] Several workers became his disciples and later entered the priesthood.

A Heart On Fire

St. Philip’s greatest attribute was his burning love of God—literally. At the age of twenty-nine, he was praying to the Holy Spirit shortly before Whitsunday when a mystical ball of fire entered his mouth and lodged in his chest. His heart grew so aflame with divine fervor that he had to rip open his clothes and cool himself on the stone floor.

When he arose, there was a painless swelling as large as a man’s fist next to his heart. An autopsy after the saint’s death would disclose the source of the protrusion. Over his heart, which had expanded with the love of God, two of his ribs were dislodged and curved in the form of an arch. The physicians marveled that Philip’s enlarged pulmonary artery did not cause him extreme pain and officially concluded that the cause was miraculous.

From that moment on, Philip was prone to heart palpitations that would occur any time he was engaged in a spiritual activity. The palpitations were sometimes so violent that his chair or bed or even room would shake from them; disciples who rested their head on his heart said that they sometimes knocked them off his chest. Yet these mysterious heartbeats had a spiritual power as well. Disciples of Philip would later say that when they lay their head on his chest at the saint’s behest, all temptations to sins of the flesh would disappear.

Portrait by Giuseppe Nogari (1699-1766)

Father Philip

Philip Neri labored as a layman in Rome for seventeen years, eventually founding the Confraternity of the Most Holy Trinity to look after pilgrims and convalescents. The community frequently received the sacraments and met for their distinctive spiritual exercises (see below). It was Philip who helped begin the Forty Hours’ Devotion: every first Sunday of the month, the chaplains of the Confraternity exposed the Blessed Sacrament, during which time he would give a sermon. Some people came to heckle him, amused at the thought of a layman giving a spiritual discourse, but Philip won them over. Once, a sermon of his converted thirty dissolute youths.

In 1551, Philip obeyed the bidding of his confessor and was ordained a priest. As a layman, he had encouraged the frequent reception of Holy Communion (uncommon at the time), but he also taught that the young especially should go to confession more than they communicated. As a priest, he put this policy into practice, and soon his confessional was changing lives. Night and day, he heard confessions, leaving a key under the door of his room so anyone could enter, and he never complained about being interrupted to help someone, saying he was “leaving Christ for Christ.” Philip would typically hear as many as forty confessions before dawn in his room and then go to the church when it opened at sunrise to hear many more. Sometimes, he could read the hearts of penitents before they opened their mouths; once, he converted a young noble by giving him a glimpse of Hell.

Love of the Mass

The sacrament of confession was the cornerstone of Philip’s apostolate, but his first and foremost love was the Blessed Sacrament. For most Catholics, it takes effort to acquire the right spirit of devotion prior to Mass. Father Philip had the opposite problem: he was so prone to spiritual ecstasy that he had to distract himself from the Mass beforehand with joke books and the like or he would be caught up in a catatonic rapture. Even then, he often had visions during Mass, such as the Christ Child on the altar one Christmas or a glimpse of Paradise during the Consecration. His servers were trained to recognize the signs of his being caught up in divine love; they tugged at his chasuble to bring him back to earth. And I choose that metaphor deliberately, for Saint Philip sometimes levitated during Mass.

His palpitations were at their most vigorous during Mass, sometimes shaking the whole altar; he could barely pour the wine into the chalice. And if he paused only a little at the elevation, his arms would freeze in adoration. God’s outpouring of love into Philip’s soul also made it difficult for him to stay within the boundaries of liturgical decorum. He received from the Chalice (the contents of which, one server attests, looked like pure blood) with such intense affection that the silver and the gilding on the lip were worn off and dented with tooth marks. He also had to say random and distracting things to his server such as “Turn those dogs out” in order to control his ecstatic trembling.

Near the end of his life, Philip received permission from the Pope to say Mass privately in a little chapel near his room. His servers would leave at the Sanctus, bolt the door, return two hours later, and knock. If the saint answered, they would resume the Mass; if he did not, they would try again later. No one knows what experiences Philip had during those hours with his Eucharistic Lord, but his servers said that afterwards he looked like he was on the verge of expiring.

The Oratory

Saint Ignatius of Loyola tried repeatedly to recruit Philip for the Jesuits, but Philip knew that his vocation was to be in the world. Once, when he contemplated withdrawing from public life and becoming a hermit, he had a vision that told him “Rome will be your desert.” Later, when he desired a martyr’s death as a missionary in India, another vision informed him that “Rome will be your India.”

God wanted Philip to be the “Apostle of Rome” (as he was later called) for good reason. At the start of his ministry, the Eternal City was a den of iniquity and neo-paganism, its Popes corrupt and its residents wallowing in vice. By the time of his death at the age of eighty, Philip—along with other Saints like Pope Pius V—had turned the city around. His guiding principle was simple: he wanted everyone to become holy, not necessarily by becoming a cleric or religious but by loving God wherever they were. Centuries before the Second Vatican Council’s universal call to holiness and St. Josemaria Escriva’s mission to sanctify work, St. Philip’s “greatest delight and his special desire was that men should make themselves saints in their own homes.” As early as 1570, someone wrote that Philip had established a school of “spiritual worldlings.” [2]

Accordingly, instead of joining or founding a religious order, Philip began the Congregation of the Oratory, a community of secular clergy living under obedience but not bound by vows. Formally recognized by the Pope in 1575, the Oratorians were given Santa Maria in Vallicella; soon after they built a new church, or Chiesa Nuova, on the site of the old edifice.

It was at Chiesa Nuova that the Oratorians continued their “exercises,” a service consisting of four half-hour sermons on a spiritual reading, Sacred Scripture, Church history, and the life of a Saint. Beautiful music was an important element as well. The great Palestrina, who was a penitent of St. Philip, composed for the service several Laudi, a popular form of singing in late-sixteenth century Italy that combined sacred text, interludes of dialogue, and polyphonic texture. The new music forged under Philip’s influence, a happy medium between the sacred and the secular, was promoted by the Oratorians wherever they went as a part of their efforts to attract youth to the Faith. The genre, familiar to many thanks to Handel’s Messiah, subsequently became known as an “oratorio.”

Prophet of Joy

Saint Philip was renowned for the gift of prophecy and for his miraculous healing of the sick and even raising of the dead, but what made him so beloved was what the Italians call festività, his infectious joy and humor. The saint held that being cheerful “is the true way to advance in every virtue.” His long experience in directing souls, he said, had taught him “that in spiritual matters cheerful men were much more easy to guide than the melancholy.”

Consequently, Philip preserved “perpetual cheerfulness” in himself and went to great lengths to encourage it in others. His room, wherein he would receive strangers as if they were his long-lost children at all hours of the day and night, became known as the “Shelter of Christian Mirth.” He sometimes gave his penitents a playful slap on the cheek, saying “It is not you I am beating, but the devil!” Like a zany Italian uncle, he pulled their hair, caressed their faces, boxed their ears, and held their heads near his heart, all of which caused great joy and consolation. In the words of Saint John Henry Newman, “If ever there was a saint who set his face against humbug, it was Saint Philip.” [3]

Gentleness and Patience

Philip’s good cheer extended into his relations with subordinates, peers, and superiors. There is no easier way to rule, he stated, “than by being gentle and sparing in giving orders; he who wants to be well obeyed should give few commands.” Philip preferred exhortations to commands, saying things like, “I should like you to do this, but if it seems hard I will do it for you.” And when correcting another, he would describe the person’s fault as if it were his own in such a way that the person took the admonition to himself.

Philip was also careful in correcting the vanities of the age. Instead of inveighing against some of the fashions of the time, he would tell his disciples, “Just let a little devotion enter into their hearts, and you may then leave them to themselves; they will soon do all or more than you wish.” Consequently, he never said a word to a particular priest who dressed like a layman; after two weeks, the priest started dressing appropriately on his own accord. One of his female penitents asked if it was a sin to wear extremely high heels. Philip only replied, “Be careful you don’t fall!” (The lady decided against the shoes.) To a male penitent who wore a collar with an inordinately large ruff, Philip simply said, “Ah! I should caress you a good deal oftener than I do if this collar did not hurt my hands.” The man soon stopped wearing it.

When it was necessary to correct a superior, Philip recommended using a third party example, like the prophet Nathan did to King David. And when being rebuked by a superior, he advised showing no anger but returning cheerful in order to show no ill will. His policy in this regard would be put to the test several times, as his popularity earned him envy or suspicion from members of the hierarchy. Among his many trials: the Pope’s vicar, who had been fed misinformation about his activities, severely rebuked the saint and ordered him not to hear confession for fifteen days. But the saint merely forbade his supporters from saying one cross word about the vicar and used these false accusations as an opportunity to grow closer to God. “You will see,” he told his disciples. “When this persecution has achieved the fruit God wants from it, it will come to an end.” [4]

There were also initial tensions between Saint Philip and Pope Saint Pius V, who had heard rumors about “unorthodox” sermons coming out of Philip’s community. Concern had also been voiced about the exercises themselves, since they were conducted in the vernacular—not unlike, it was pointed out, the Lutherans in Germany. But the Pope himself approved the exercises and developed a great esteem for Philip and his followers. Philip in return had the highest opinion of the Pope’s holiness; he kept a biretta and a red shoe that had belonged to Pius V and cherished them as relics. Nevertheless, even Saints can disagree. When Pius V ordered gypsies to be rounded up and used as galley slaves in the naval fleet against the Turks, Philip protested and procured their freedom.

Portrait of Pope St Piusm by Scipione Pulzone, 1570-72

Saint Philip was treated with open contempt at various times by cardinals, priests, laymen, and even prisoners. But the saint’s good cheer and patience eventually won them over. One of his sayings explains his motive: “How patiently Christ, the King and Lord of heaven and earth, bore with the Apostles, enduring at their hands many incivilities and misbeliefs, they being but poor and rough fisherman! How much more ought we to bear with our neighbor, if he treats us with incivility.” [5]

Master of Mirthful Mortification

Philip’s festività also colored his practice of mortification. In the words of the Catholic Encyclopedia, he gave “a quaintly humorous turn to the maxims of ascetical theology.” [6] That is putting it mildly. The madcap saint walked through the streets of Rome with half his beard shaved off or wearing a goofy mismatch of clothes. He had his barber cut his hair once in the middle of a crowded plaza and once even in a church nave while Mass was being celebrated. He skipped around like a little boy even when he was an old man, inspiring one astonished onlooker to exclaim, “Look at the old fool there!” When the Pope sent to him a visiting delegation of Polish lords for their spiritual edification, Saint Philip ignored them and listened in rapt attention to a joke book being read. The astonished noblemen stared each other for a while and presently departed, at which Philip told his companion to stop reading, saying that “we have done all that was wanted.”

Why did the saint do these things and many more like them? He wanted above all to be thought of as a worthless person so he could be free of the egoism which chooses one’s reputation over God. As a biographer of Neri notes:

The one who is totally free of egoism, who has given himself completely, is the one who has found perfect joy. Egoists are always the saddest of men, while unclouded joy follows from humility. [7]

St Philip did not deny the value of traditional asceticism (which he also practiced), but he warned: “Take care not to become so attached to the means as to forget the end; and that it is not well to be so taken up mortifying the flesh as to omit mortifying the brain, which after all is the principal matter.” The whole quest for sanctity, as he saw it, could be summed up in the span of three fingers which he placed on his forehead: “to mortify the razionale”—a word which for Philip meant not so much reason but the proud or overheated use of reason. [8] And one of the chief ways reason becomes overheated is by fixating on how one is perceived by others in the theater of life.

An excellent example of his approach: When one of his penitents asked permission to wear a hair shirt, Philip said that he could on one condition: he had to wear it on the outside of his clothes. (The fellow loved Philip so much that he wore it that way for the rest of his life, eventually becoming known as “Berto of the Hair Shirt.”) On another occasion, a Roman prince who had become an Oratorian novice sought full admission into the Congregation. St. Philip told him that one final test would be required: he had to pin a long foxtail to the end of his coat and parade through the streets with all seriousness. When the stunned prince said that he wanted to be an Oratorian for honor and not disgrace, Philip replied that he had come to the wrong place, for the first principle of their community was complete self-renunciation. 

Conclusion

St. Philip Neri is a patron of Rome, of Mandaluyong in the Philippines, and of laughter and humor. He is also the patron of the international seminary of the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest in Florence. In fact, if you attend Mass on St. Philip’s feast day (May 26) at any of the chapels, churches, or oratories run by the Institute of Christ the King, you may gain under the usual conditions a plenary indulgence. Finally, the Apostle of Rome was chosen to be the patron saint of the U.S. Special Forces because “he embodied the traits of the ideal Special Forces Soldier, Selfless, Superb Teacher, and Inspirational Leader."[9] Special Forces also has a distinguished Order of Saint Philip Neri with Gold, Silver, and Bronze levels of membership.

It is our opinion, however, that Saint Philip Neri should be the intercessor of more than the Green Berets or a single traditionalist seminary. He should—along with other holy figures like Gregory the Great, Pius V, and Pius X—be a patron of all traditionalists, lay and clerical alike. For Saint Philip is ideally suited to confirm us in our virtues and cure us of our vices. Saint Philip loved the traditional Mass and calendar, understood the importance of beauty, and lived ascetically and chastely. But he was also on guard against dourness, scrupulosity, and a penchant for tsk-tsking. In the words of Father Paul Türks,

Saint Philip Neri put his trust in the positive, in grace. What is meant is shown by his way of dealing with many of the evil habits of his day. He did not reject the immoral fashions or the excessive wealth. He did not forbid the luxurious creations of the contemporary culture. He trusted in the love of God, which would do its work in men of itself like a fire or a seed—unnoticed and hidden at first, but already growing. [10]

Pippo Buono, pray for us.

An earlier version of this article appeared as “St. Philip Neri: A Patron Saint of Traditionalism” in The Latin Mass magazine 25:1 (Winter/Spring 2016), pp. 34-38. Many thanks to its editors for allowing its publication here.

Notes

[1] Pietro Giacomo Bacci, The Life of Saint Philip Neri, ed. Frederick Ignatius Antrobus, 2 vols. (Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, and Co., 1902), vol. 1, p. 30. Most of the direct quotations and stories in this article are taken, unless otherwise noted, from Bacci.

[2] Paul Türks, Philip Neri: The Fire of Joy, trans. Daniel Utrecht (Alba House, 1995), 115.

[3] Quoted in Türks, 110.

[4] Türks, 65.

[5] The Maxims and Sayings of St. Philip Neri, ed. F.W. Faber (Athanasius Press, 2009), 62.

[6] Charles Sebastian Ritchie, "St. Philip Romolo Neri," The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 12 (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1911), retrieved May 25, 2023.

[7] Türks, 126.

[8] Türks, 117.

[9] Retrieved February 21, 2016.

[10] Türks, 114.

St Philip’s Day at the London Oratory Celebrated by Cardinal George Pell

Pontifical High Mass was celebrated by Cardinal George Pell at the London Oratory this evening for the Feast of St Philip Neri. The Choir and Orchestra of the London Oratory sang the Theresienmesse by Haydn and Pangamus Nerio by Wingham. Happy Feast to all Oratorians!

Continue Reading this Article. . .

A New Book about St Philip Neri, Reviewed by David Warren

This year, the Congregation of the Oratory celebrates the 500th anniversary of the birth of its founder, St Philip Neri. Fr Jonathan Robinson, founder and superior of the Toronto Oratory, has just published a new book called “In No Strange Land - The Embodied Mysticism of St Philip Neri” through Angelico Press. We are grateful to Catholic journalist David Warren for offering us this review of it; Mr Warren is a regular contributor to The Catholic Thing, and has his own blog called Essays in Idleness.

Jonathan Robinson (founder of the Toronto Oratory) has written a remarkable book on the founder of the Oratorians. It is not a biography or hagiography, not history, not philosophy or theology, nor any established genre of academic research. There are strands from all these, however, and they are certainly wound together into a vivid portrait. In No Strange Land carries the subtitle, The Embodied Mysticism of Saint Philip Neri. The author of several outstanding previous works on the foundations of Christian life, Father Robinson has also drawn together his own life’s work in this latest volume.

The Saints are “like Christ” not in emulating this trait or that from the Gospel record, nor for what they “objectively” taught or achieved, in the service of the Church that Christ founded. The diversity of “flavours” is extraordinary. The more we learn of each Saint, the less he seems like any other Saint, the more sui generis. Keep up the study, and we come to realize that each is “like Christ” in a more radical or fundamental way; the very embodiment of something, not of his own making.

Saint Philip Neri was, for instance, a younger contemporary of Saint Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits. It is hard to imagine two men of such contrasting backgrounds and personalities, yet in the service of the same larger cause -- Ignatius a late apostle, “to the world”; Philip, “to Rome.” Moreover, the Orders they founded, respectively, continue to this day to reflect the character of their respective founders. Even their faults correspond to their originating virtues, so that the “family resemblances” remain stark. This, if one stops to think of it, is something miraculous in kind, for secular organizations take on a life of their own, and “evolve” along lines that their founders could scarcely anticipate or any longer recognize, often within their own lifespan.

In his inquiry into the name and nature of Philip Neri, Father Robinson touches on such points. He is hardly writing an institutional history of the Oratory; he is focused entirely on the man himself; yet the story he is telling is also that Oratory story -- told from inside. The peculiar form and vocation of Oratory life is constantly expounded, and exemplified, right down to the wry humour and gentleness of tone, the instinctive respect for literature and “culture” in music and art, the strikingly independent sense of mission -- all conveyed in the texture of the book. It is warm, in a special Philip-Neri way; one is not so much in a uniformed hierarchy as among friends, bound together in a common adventure.

We speak of “trusting in God,” which is a reasonable expression, but in the life of Philip Neri as Father Robinson unfolds it there is a consistent movement to something much deeper. It is a movement of faith towards or into the embrace of Christ that goes far beyond mere “trust,” which can be reduced to an intellectual idea.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Fifth Centenary of the Birth of St Philip Neri

Just a brief notice that today, July 21, 2015, is the 500th anniversary of the birth of St Philip Neri. Although St Philip spent most of his life in Rome, moving there when he was 18, and there founded the Congregation of the Oratory, he was actually a Florentine. His lifelong attachment to and friendship with the Dominicans was formed in the city of his birth, at their church of San Marco, (which is likely to close soon.) Our best wishes and prayers to all of the Oratorian houses and their members throughout the world on this auspicious day!

“ST PHILIP NERI, rapt unto God, in the Host sees Jesus Christ bless those who are in prayer.”

Cardinal Burke celebrates St Philip's Day at the Oxford Oratory

Cardinal Burke celebrated a Solemn Pontifical Mass for the feast of St Philip Neri at the Oxford Oratory, in the 5th centenary of the Saint's birth. The pictures below appear courtesy of the Oxford Oratory and there are more over at the the Oxford Oratory website. During the sermon (full text here) Cardinal Burke spoke of St Philip's example in countering the secular culture and recalled the words of Cardinal Ratzinger immediately preceding the 2005 conclave:

Celebrating the fifth centennial of the birth of Saint Philip Neri, let us all take particular example from the manner in which he encountered a secularized and, therefore, corrupt culture. Let us implore his intercession as we ourselves confront a culture in which even the most fundamental truths, the truth about human life and the truth about its cradle in the family constituted by marriage, are consistently ignored, defied and grievously violated. I recall how Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger addressed the contemporary secular culture in his homily during the Mass for the Election of the Roman Pontiff, celebrated before the conclave during which he was elected to the See of Peter. He spoke of how the “the thought of many Christians” has been tossed about, in our time, by various “ideological currents,” observing that we are witnesses to the “human deception and the trickery that strives to entice people into error,” about which Saint Paul wrote in his Letter to the Ephesians. He noted that, in our time, those who live according to “a clear faith based on the Creed of the Church” are viewed as fundamentalists, as extremists, while relativism, that is, “letting oneself be ‘tossed here and there, carried about by every wind of doctrine’,” is extolled. Regarding the source of the grave moral evils of our time, he concluded: “We are building a dictatorship of relativism that does not recognize anything as definitive and whose ultimate goal consists solely of one’s own ego and desires.”

Called to transform the world in Christ, let us, with Saint Philip Neri, turn to Christ, to His truth and love handed on to us in His Mystical Body, the Church. Let us practice the humility which recognizes that only the grace of God saves us from our sins and animates us for the pure and selfless love which conquers sin and everlasting death. Let us follow the counsel which Saint Philip gave to his niece. Let us give our hearts into the Sacred Heart of Jesus, through the opening of His glorious pierced Side, and let us strive, through prayer and penance, never to leave that home in which alone we find forgiveness, peace and strength. This is not fundamentalism. This is not extremism. This is living in Christ, in the Wisdom of God. As Christ sanctified the times of Saint Philip with an abundant outpouring of the sevenfold gift of the Holy Spirit into Saint Philip’s heart, so may He sanctify our times through the outpouring of the Holy Spirit into our hearts.

The Easter Vigil at the London Oratory

Here are photographs of last night's Easter Vigil at the London Oratory. 2015 is the 500th anniversary of the Birth of St Philip Neri which can be seen painted on the Paschal Candle in the first photograph.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

A Special Mass for a Miracle of St Philip Neri

Among the many miracles worked by St Philip Neri in his lifetime was the raising to life of Paolo Massimo, the 14-year old son of his friend Prince Fabrizio Massimo, on March 16, 1583. St Philip had tended the boy spiritually during his long illness, and was sent for when it became clear that he was about to die. He was then living fairly close by at the church of San Girolamo della Carità, but he was celebrating Mass when the messenger arrived, and the boy died before he could finish and be informed. Coming to the Palazzo Massimo, he prayed at the boy’s bedside, sprinkled holy water on his face, and, like the Prophet Elijah, breathed upon his face. He then called his name loudly twice, and Paolo Massimo returned to life.

On seeing his spiritual father at his bedside, the boy asked to confess a sin that he had forgotten; St Philip heard his confession and absolved him of his sins. His family were then allowed back into the room, and witnessed the boy conversing with St Philip for a half an hour, as if he were in perfect health. Paolo’s mother and sister had died a few years earlier, and so St Philip asked him if he were now willing to die, at which the boy replied that he wished to see his mother and sister in Paradise. St Philip then said to him, “Go, and be blessed, and pray to God for me,” at which Paolo Massimo died peacefully in his arms.

In commemoration of this miracle, a special feast is celebrated each year on March 16 in the chapel of the Palazzo Massimo, which is still owned and lived in by the same family, and opened to the public on this one day of the year. Priests celebrate Mass all morning long at one of the chapel’s three altars; a main Mass, usually celebrated by a Cardinal, is also organized and served by the Institute of Christ the King. A proper Mass for the feast was granted by Bl. Pope Pius IX at the behest of Francesco Cardinal Massimo, a member of the family. Photography is generally not allowed at the Masses, but a friend of mine who attended the event yesterday, Mr John Egan, was allowed to photograph the pages of the Missal supplement with the proper Mass of the day, and has graciously agreed to share this liturgical curiosity with our readers.

Introit (Ps. 129) Out of the depths I have cried to thee, O Lord: Lord, hear my prayer. Let thy ears be attentive to the prayer of Thy servant. V. Because with the Lord there is mercy: and with him plentiful redemption. Glory be. Out of the depths.
The Prayer O God, who give us to rejoice by the merits and intercession of Blessed Philip, Thy confessor, grant in Thy mercy that we who through him ask Thy benefits, may obtain the gift of Thy grace. Through our Lord etc.
The Epistle is taken from Mass of Thursday of the Fourth Week of Lent, 4 Kings 4, 25-38, in which the Prophet Elisha raises from the dead the son of the Sunamite woman.

The Gradual (Ps. 70) O Lord, I will be mindful of thy justice alone. Thou hast taught me, O God, from my youth: and unto old age and grey hairs, O God, forsake me not. V. By thee have I been confirmed from the womb: from my mother' s womb thou art my protector. Of thee shall I continually sing.
The Tract (also from Ps. 70, but here incorrectly not labelled separately from the Gradual.) I am become unto many as a wonder, and Thou a strong helper; let my mouth be filled with Thy praise, that I may sing thy glory. V. But I will always hope; and will add to all thy praise. V. Thou hast taught me, O God, from my youth: and till now I will declare Thy wonderful works, until I show forth Thy arm to all the generation that is to come.

The Gospel is Luke 7, 11-16, the raising of the widow of Naim’s son, taken from the same Mass as the Epistle.
The Offertory (Luke 20) Now that the dead rise again, even Moses showeth, at the bush, when he calleth the Lord the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. But He is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for all live unto Him.
The Secret God, who establish and rule Thy people, though these offerings take away the sins by which it is assailed; that ever pleasing unto Thee by the prayers of Blessed Philip, it may also secure under Thy defense. Through our Lord etc.

The Preface (as stated in the decree below, this proper preface for St Philip was first granted to the Congregation of the Oratory in the Kingdom of Spain in 1803.) Truly it is worthy and just ... eternal God, who by the gifts of Thy grace, made the Blessed Philip to burn with the fire of love. And he, inflamed with this ineffable charity, established a new congregation for the profit of souls, and fulfilled in his works the saving counsels which he gave to others. We therefore beseech Thy clemency, that Thou give us joy in his festivity, drive us on by the example of his holy life, teach us by word of his preaching, and protect us by his pleasing supplication. And therefore with the Angels etc.
The Communion (Ps. 40) But do thou, O Lord, have mercy on me, and raise me up again: and I will requite them. By this I know, that thou hast had a good will for me: because my enemy shall not rejoice over me.
The Postcommunion May the ears of Thy mercy be open, o Lord, to the prayers of Thy supplicants; and that Thou may grant what they desire to those who ask, at the intercession of Blessed Philip Thy Confessor, cause them to ask for those thing that please Thee. Through our Lord etc.

The decree by which permission was given in 1846 to celebrate the Mass commemorating the miracle..

For the Feast of St Philip Neri: The Oratory of Naples

The Naples Oratory was founded in 1586 by three disciples of St. Philip Neri, Antonio Talpa, Giovanni Giovenale Ancina (later bishop of Saluzzo, beatified in 1889) and Francesco Maria Tarugi (later cardinal), only 11 years after the Congregation of the Oratory was officially approved by Pope Gregory XIII. It was the Congregation’s first house outside of Rome, and since the founders came from the church where St Philip lived, San Girolamo della Carità, the Neapolitans have always called them the “Girolamini”. (“Girolamo” is Italian for “Jerome.”) It was immediately a tremendous success, and for centuries one of the most important religious institutions in Naples; the complex of buildings (including a huge church, two cloisters, one of which is also very large, and several smaller oratories) occupies a full hectare of land right in the middle of the city, across the street from the Cathedral. In its heyday, it was patronized by most of the important families in the city, which was then the capital of a large independent kingdom; it became famous for its art collection and magnificent sacristy. Like many of the great cultural and religious institutions of the former Kingdom of Naples, the Oratory has suffered much from various acts of suppression and confiscation; the center of Naples was also bombed during World War II, and a part of the complex which was damaged, the Oratory of the Assumption, is still in need of restoration over 70 years later. Nevertheless, the Girolamini remains one of the great monuments of St Philip’s apostolic labors, and those of his sons throughout the world.

The façade of the church, seen from the via dei Tribunali, the ancient decumanus maximus of Naples in Roman times.

The central nave seen from the door.

The coffered ceiling (partly missing) with an image of St. Philip.

The high altar.

An angel holding a candlestick at the corner of the sanctuary, carved by the Neapolitan sculptor Giuseppe Sanmartino, better known for the famous image of the veiled Christ in the nearby Sansevero Chapel. (see linked article)

The right side-aisle. As in many Italian Counter-Reformation churches, the side-aisles are deliberately arranged as a kind of blind that separates the side chapels from the central nave, so that the faithful would not be distracted from the principal ceremony at the main altar.

A side altar dedicated to St Charles Borromeo. St Philip and St Charles knew each other personally, and the latter made generous donations towards the building of the Chiesa Nuova, the Oratory of Rome; they are pictured together in the altarpiece. In the statue, St Philip is shown trampling on a cardinal’s hat, a symbol of the many ecclesiastical dignities offered him, and always refused. The two busts on either side may be Ss. Cosmas and Damian, since a church named for them was pulled down to make way for the Girolamini; when this was done in the Counter-Reformation period , it was often on such terms that the new foundation was required to preserve devotion to the titular saints of the old one.

The main side-altar of the left transept contains relics of St Ignatius of Antioch, and the Roman martyrs Ss. Nereus and Achilleus. Another disciple of St Philip, the renowned historian Cesare Baronius, was made cardinal of the church of Ss Nereus and Achilleus in 1596, and presumably donated these relics. (It was Baronius who read the commendation prayers for St Philip as he lay dying.) I have never before seen a sepulcher in an altar decorated like this.

An emblem representing the heart of St Philip, enflamed with the love of God, in the floor close to the main door. Neapolitan Baroque churches are often filled with this elaborate kind of mosaic known as entarsia, in which the pieces of stone are cut as much as possible in the shape the artist wishes to make, rather than into lots of tiny pieces which are then used to build the images. (Some kinds of stone, however, are too brittle for this to be very practical, and more, smaller pieces are used, as with the yellow stone around the heart.)

The small cloister though which one now enters the church, with the dome above.

The great cloister.

The dome of the chuch seen from the great cloister.

The façade of the cathedral, seen from the former buildings of the community.

On the right side of the Duomo is the large chapel of Naples’ Patron Saint, Januarius (San Gennaro), the relic of whose blood famously liquifies on his three feast days. The chapel houses over 40 silver busts of various Saints, including this one of St. Philip; these are often carried in procession though the heart of the city by various confraternities on the three feasts.