Traditional Candle Making in a Newsreel from 1949

Here’s an interesting little thing that Peter stumbled across, a newsreel made by British Pathé in 1949 which shows candles being made by hand: interesting because at 1:20, you can see them making a triple candle for the Easter vigil by wrapping three separate candles around a mould while they are still soft. (Oddly, the narration at that point is talking about something else.) This is followed by some large and very beautifully decorated Paschal candles.

Piously Discarding Blessed Wax: A Quodlibetal Question

One of the small but still significant changes in my life as a Roman Catholic occurred when I moved to a place where my parish was, for the first time, a dedicated old-rite parish. Although I had participated at other times in usus antiquior liturgies that involved solemn blessings, the people in attendance were not accustomed to life in the midst of such blessings, and the clergy did not think of encouraging the faithful to bring heaps of herbs or wine or water or candles, etc., to be specially blessed. In other words, we did the blessings, but they had not yet spilled over into everyday life. At traditional parishes, on the other hand, the community looks forward to these days, the bulletin reminds everyone of them, and sure enough, families arrive bearing baskets or boxes of items to be blessed. Case in point: Candlemas. Once you read the potent blessing of candles that takes place on February 2nd in the usus antiquior, you want to bring a supply of candles and get them blessed.

However, everyone knows what happens with votive candles, tea-lights, and even tapers: they burn down to a certain point, and then the wick is no more, leaving a chunk of wax residue. Depending on how well or poorly a given candle has burned, there can be a decent amount of leftover wax. For a short time, I was throwing away the remainders, but then I began to have qualms about discarding the wax of candles that had been solemnly blessed. So I asked four theologically astute priests for their opinions on what should be done with these scraps. I was intrigued to receive four answers that overlapped in some ways and diverged greatly in others. Here are the first three:

1. The grave danger of disposing of blessed items, fundamentally, is that they may fall into the hands of those who would use them for the occult or other blasphemous purposes. There’s probably little chance of this in the case of candle hubs. Still, out of an abundance of caution, one could bury them or cast them into a “holy fire.” I do not know if maybe houses of religious sisters would be grateful to receive the remnant to melt back into new candles?

2. Your instincts are right and Catholic! Once something is blessed, it should not be simply discarded with the trash. So from time to time I suggest you make a bonfire in your backyard, and throw the tealights on to it. The waxy residue will burn away, and you can then throw the probably blackened and crumpled aluminum containers into the trash. Sed contra: Beware of scrupulosity!

3. The blessing is for a candle, not the wax. When the object no longer can be considered a candle (e.g. it is a molten mass of wax), it has lost its blessing. Remember that if an altar or church is damaged beyond the point where it can function as what it is, it loses its consecration and would have to be reconsecrated upon rebuilding. What was a candle, if it can no longer serve as a candle, is a candle no more.

The tension between the first two answers and the third prompted me to pose it as a “quodlibetal question” to an English Dominican Thomist, who sent me the following thorough reply, which I now share with readers, as I believe he has offered the definitive answer.

A side table with candles brought by the faithful to be blessed

“Respondeo dicendum quod: a thing is a sacramental when it has been blessed for the purpose of signifying some holy thing, so that it may dispose the one who uses it rightly to a greater union with God.

“Now a thing of this kind may signify in two ways, namely in virtue of its substance or in virtue of some accident. In virtue of its substance indeed when this substance is also used in the worship of the Church, for example as the matter of some sacrament; hence the faithful are wont to make use of holy water and blessed oil, even though these are not blessed with the blessing received by baptismal water or by the sacramental oils. A thing is apt to signify in virtue of some accident when by its shape or colour or something of that kind it takes on a resemblance to Christ or to His Cross or to one of the saints.

“Now wax is used by the Church in her sacred rites, not indeed as the matter of some sacrament, but to provide an illumination to accompany her rites in honour of Christ the true light by whom our minds are enlightened in these rites themselves, and therefore it is a substance apt to be used by the faithful in their private exercises of piety, since He is present also to the faithful when they pray to the Father in secret.

“However, that the wax is shaped in a certain fashion, for example as a cylinder or something of that kind, is done not for the sake of signifying something holy, but only on account of a certain utility, namely, that the wick may be elevated and use up the wax efficiently and thus illuminate more widely and for a longer time. Hence it follows that the loss of the form of a candle does not remove the blessing from the wax; whence in the blessing of candles we do not ask that a ‘candle’ be blessed but that ‘a creature of wax’ be blessed.

“Therefore the wax that remains when a candle has been burnt should not be discarded with other off-casts, just as neither should other sacramentals such as scapulars and rosaries, and this not only lest they fall into the hands of unbelievers for mockery but also because they have in a certain way been raised above other creatures by the Church’s bidding. Rather, this wax should be resolved into its elements by means of fire, or left to decay upon the earth.

“However, if what remains is of some notable quantity, then it may even be sent to a guild of artisans or to holy women in order that they may use it to fashion new candles. Nor does it matter if the same portion of wax in consequence be blessed a second time or even more often; just as we ourselves bless our body with holy water repeatedly, even within a single day.

“Hence the reply to the objections is clear.”

A Comparison of the Old and New Blessing of Candles on Candlemas

Coped priest blessing candles at the side of the altar (usus antiquior)

Of late, comparing and contrasting the prayers of the Pauline modern missal with those of the traditional Roman missal has been a passionate avocation of mine. Taking my cue from Lauren Pristas and Matthew Hazell, true masters of this labor, I find that simply placing the old and new texts beside one another and pondering their differences can be an extraordinarily enlightening exercise. It tends to confirm, time and time again, the doctrinal richness, ascetical realism, and poetic flair of the old prayers and the absense of these qualities in the new.

In this article I shall compare the prayers for the blessing of candles on February 2nd, Candlemas day, known in the old calendar as the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and in the new calendar, with a Grecophilic nod, as the Presentation of the Lord.

The first and most obvious difference is that the traditional Roman rite blesses the candles by means of a sequence of five prayers, in which is expressed a well-developed theology of candles as sacramentals; of how they relate to the order of creation and the order of redemption; of the liturgical reenactment and mystical participation in Christ’s own entrance into the temple; of Jesus Christ as the light of the world and His Spirit as the internal fire/light that guides us through the “perilous darkness of this life to the never-failing light” of heaven; of Simeon as a model of one so guided, whom we should imitate as we receive Jesus in the substance of our flesh; and of the connection between the oil Moses commanded to be prepared so that lamps might burn continuously in the Lord’s presence and the blessed candles we now burn as symbols of the “lumen Spiritus” in our inward minds. The prayers are particularly outstanding for their pneumatology.

A second obvious difference is the repetition of the act of blessing the candles, which is similar to the many signs of blessing to be found in the traditional rite of Mass (think of the Roman Canon!), the rite of blessing of holy water, the rite of baptism, and so forth. Precisely seven times the priest makes the sign of the cross over the candles, using the language “bless and sanctify” in the first, second, and third prayers, and asking one last time for “the grace of Thy blessing” in the fifth prayer.

First prayer

DOMINE sancte, Pater omnipotens, æterne Deus, qui omnia ex nihilo creasti, et jussu tuo per opera apum, hunc liquorem ad perfectionem cerei venire fecisti: et qui hodierna die petitionem justi Simeonis implesti: te humiliter deprecamur; ut has candelas ad usus hominem, et sanitatem corporum et animarum, sive in terra, sive in aquis, per invocationem tui sanctissimi nominis, et per intercessionem beatæ Mariæ semper Virginis, cujus hodie festa devote celebrantur, et per preces omnium Sanctorum tuorum bene✠dicere, et sancti✠ficare digneris: et hujus plebis tuæ, quæ illas honorifice inmanibus desiderat portare, teque cantando laudare, exaudias voces de cælo sancto tuo, et de sede majestatis tuæ: et propitius sis omnibus clamantibus ad te, quos redemisti pretioso Sanguine Filii tui: Qui tecum vivit et regnat in unitate Spiritus Sancti Deus, per omnia sæcula sæculorum. R. Amen.

(Holy Lord, Father almighty, everlasting God, who hast created all things out of nothing, and by Thy command hast caused this liquid to become perfect wax by the labour of bees: and who, on this day didst fulfil the petition of the righteous man, Simeon: we humbly entreat Thee, that by the invocation of Thy most holy Name and through the intercession of Blessed Mary ever Virgin whose feast is today devoutly observed, and by the prayers of all Thy Saints, Thou wouldst vouchsafe to bless ✠ and sancti✠fy these candles for the service of men and for the health of their bodies and souls, whether on land or on sea: and that Thou wouldst hear from Thy holy heaven, and from the throne of Thy Majesty the voices of this Thy people, who desire to carry them in their hands with honour, and to sing Your praises; and that You would look with favour on all who call upon You, whom You have redeemed with the precious Blood of Your Son, who being God, lives and reigns with You in the unity of the Holy Ghost, world without end. R. Amen.)

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Progressive Solemnity: Traditional Interpretations and Methods

Solemn Mass: the ancient norm and exemplar of the Roman Rite

In the world of the reformed liturgy, one encounters a concept of “progressive solemnity” that has little to do with the Latin liturgical tradition. Basically, the idea is this: start with a spoken Mass as your baseline, and then add things on to it ad libitum: for an ordinary day, sing the “presidential” parts; on a feast, add the propers; on a very special day, bring on the incense and chant the Introit, etc.

In practice, at least in my experience, it ends up being a random series of steps: on weekdays we sing the Alleluia but nothing else; on feasts, we sing the Gloria and the Alleluia; on Sundays we do the four-hymn sandwich and the celebrant sings his parts. Since there is much confusion about what rubrics, if any, govern these sorts of decisions, just about any mix-n-match combination can happen. [1]

With the traditional Roman rite, this confusion is simply not possible: a Mass is either a Low Mass or a Missa cantata or a Missa solemnis, etc., and each has strict requirements about what is to be sung (or not sung). As a result, followers of the traditional rite tend to use the forms of Mass as a way of distinguishing calendrical solemnity: ferias or low-ranking feasts will be Low Masses; high-ranking feasts are Missae Cantatae; Sundays and Holy Days are Solemn High Masses; and, on the most special occasions, a bishop may be invited in for a Pontifical High Mass.

While this is understandable for practical reasons (bishops are not commonly available to pontificate, and even a deacon and subdeacon can be hard to come by), we should recognize that it is not the primary way in which the liturgical tradition of the Church distinguishes degrees of solemnity. In a church sufficiently well equipped with ministers, such as a monastic community or a cathedral with canons, the liturgy will be sung every day; it could be solemn every day. The normative — in the sense of fundamental and exemplary — form of liturgy will always be the chanted rite in the presence of the bishop or abbot, or the nearest thing to it, the Missa solemnis.

On one of my visits to the Benedictine monastery of Norcia, I remember how beautiful it was to attend several solemn Masses in a week. It showed me that this can indeed be a norm rather than an exception. Moreover, since they were so skilled in the liturgy and the chant, and there was no homily, solemn Mass took less than an hour. Each day nevertheless had a distinctive feel to it because of the intelligent use of a plethora of other marks for distinguishing levels of feasts that Catholic tradition has developed over the centuries. In other words, taking the solemn form as normative does not mean placing everything at the same level of solemnity. The solemnity is distinguished rather by the accidents, the manner or mode in which the elements of the liturgy are configured.

Gradations in Gregorian Chant

While every liturgy should ideally be chanted, there are notable distinctions within the repertoire of chant itself. Fr. Dominique Delalande, O.P., observes:

It is too obvious to be denied that a celebration sung in the Gregorian manner is more solemn than a celebration which is merely recited; but this statement is especially true in the modern perspective of a celebration which is habitually recited. The ancients had provided melodies for the most modest celebrations of the liturgical year, and these melodies were no less carefully worked out than those of the great feasts. For them the chant was, before all else, a means of giving to liturgical prayer a fullness of religious and contemplative value, whatever might be the solemnity of the day. Such should also be our sole preoccupation in singing. As long as people look upon the Gregorian chant solely as a means of solemnising the celebration, there will be the danger of making it deviate from its true path, which is more interior. [2]

Put differently, Fr. Delalande is saying that the chant is integral to the expression of the liturgy, not a mere ornament tacked on, like a bow on a Christmas present, and that we do well to utilize the different spheres of chant rather than merely toggling back and forth between recited and sung.

Ordinary. For example, the Mass Ordinary given in the Liber Usualis for ferias is short and simple, while the Ordinaries suggested for Solemn Feasts (Mass II, Kyrie fons bonitatis, or Mass III, Kyrie Deus sempiterne) are melodically elaborate and grand in scope. Five Ordinaries (III–VIII), of varying complexity and length, are suggested for Doubles. Simpler feasts of the Blessed Virgin Mary, e.g., the Holy Name on September 12, might use Ordinary X, while loftier feasts such as the Immaculate Conception or the Assumption could use the great Mass IX, Cum jubilo.

Creed. Similarly, the Liber makes available six settings of the Creed (and still others are in circulation), which vary considerably in their ornateness or “tonality.” Once again, the choice of a Creed melody can reflect something of the nature of the feast or occasion.

Preface. The missal offers three tones for the Prefaces: simple, solemn, and more solemn (solemnior). For a ferial Mass, a Requiem, or a lesser feast, the simple tone should be used; for a higher-ranking feast, such as that of an apostle or doctor, the solemn tone could be used; for the highest feasts, such as Christmas, Easter, Ascension, Pentecost, Corpus Christi, the Sacred Heart, the Immaculate Conception, or the Assumption, the more solemn tone would be highly appropriate. (In some versions of the anecdote, Mozart is said to have claimed that he would gladly exchange all his music for the fame of having composed the Preface tone. If he said this, he would doubtless have been thinking of the more solemn tone, which is indeed of rare beauty.)

Propers. The Proper chants should be sung in full in any case, but for a special occasion with incense and more ceremonial, a verse from the Offertoriale Triplex might be used, and at Communion time, verses and a doxology to go with the antiphon.

Beyond the chant, there are other obvious and subtle ways to elevate or lower the solemnity of a particular day on the calendar, so that ferias do not seem the equal of feasts of saints, and feasts of saints the equal of feasts of Our Lady, and these, in turn, those of Our Lord. It is true that many of the following presuppose a well-stocked sacristy the contents of which have been assembled over a period of time by people with good taste who understand that there is a symbolic value in having more than one kind of any given item.

In the Realm of Sight 

Since, as Aristotle says, the sense of sight is the one that gives us the most information about things, it is not surprising that the largest number of modes for signaling solemnity pertain to the visual domain.

(Photo courtesy of Liturgical Arts Journal)

1. Copes, chasubles, dalmatics, tunicles. It is obvious that plainer vestments should be used for ferias, more decorative ones for feasts, and over-the-top ones for solemnities. There are churches that have special sets used only at Christmas and/or Easter, or for a patronal feastday, etc.

2. Other vestments. For a feria, the alb can be plain; for a feast, it can be patterned; for a solemnity, with lacework. When worn with a Roman chasuble, the design of the alb becomes an important aesthetic element in itself. Similarly, the surplices of acolytes can be plain white or with worked bordered; the cassocks can be black throughout the year but red for Christmastide and Paschaltide.

3. Chalice, paten, and other vessels. It is obvious that these can be of simple or ornate design; in gold or silver or a combination thereof; with or without stones; taller or more squat, Romanesque, Gothic, or Baroque; engraved or plain; etc. This is one detail that is particularly noticed by the faithful, because of the custom of gazing upon the chalice as it is elevated and praying: “My Lord and my God!”

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Scented Candles Designed for Your Domestic Church

Candles are a wonderful addition to your home prayer corner or icon corner. By their very nature as a source of light, they draw our attention. As a symbol of the Light that overcomes darkness, they also remind us of Christ and direct our thoughts to Him.

Incense is important too. The sense of smell is, we are told, the most evocative to our imaginations. We associate fragrances with places very readily and easily. It is important then to have fragrances that are consistently used with prayer and that we associate with heavenly activity - the worship of God.

When these two accompaniments to prayer are combined with a visual component of sacred art that is worthy of veneration and placed in our icon corner; with the consideration of posture so that we stand, bow and sit at appropriate junctures; and if we chant our prayers out loud, then we are engaging the senses more fully and approaching the desired ideal of praying with the whole person, body and soul. If we do this at home regularly, it will be a habit we take into the Mass and so deepen our participation there.

In my experience, candles and incense are not always the easiest things to manage in the home. Wax can flow onto surfaces and cause damage, and incense is by nature smoky and can be suffocating in small spaces.

One answer to this would be scented candles. I did try buying some from regular stores and the fragrances always seemed to be reminiscent of an overly sweet perfume which was highly evocative, admittedly, but not of a church!

I am pleased to have discovered these candles from Stella Maris & Co. which are available online at stellamarisandco.com. They are slow burning and long lasting, the wax is contained within the glass container and they are carefully scented so to appropriate to prayer (three different scents are available). They are beautifully packaged as well, incidentally.

The photos below are of my own domestic church.

The Penitent Magdalen contemplates Christ with her Stella Maris candle! (Captured by Georges De La Tour)

Candlelight Missa Cantata at Wyoming Catholic College for the Seven Sorrows of Our Lady

In honor of the feast of the Seven Sorrows of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a candlelight Missa cantata was celebrated last night at Wyoming Catholic College. The collegiate Schola sang the Propers of the Mass.

Several things struck me about this Mass. The stark juxtaposition of light and dark threw into great relief the priest and his actions at the altar. Since reading a missal was difficult or impossible, one simply gave up on the idea of reading, and watched with eyes made keener by the surrounding black and the flickering flames. It was easy to surrender oneself to the motions of the priest at the altar as he went back and forth with the incense, or bowed to recite a prayer, or genuflected. His actions became mine: he was doing all this on my behalf, and I was assisting him with my internal attention and love. The unity of his action and mine was somehow strongly apparent: this was not "his work" but ours, as the Mystical Body of Christ, head and members.

Another thing that struck me was how the darkness deepened the silence and augmented the chant. A church fully lit can be silent, too, of course, but the very fact of everything being lit up in all its distinctness and multiplicity can create a certain "visual noise" that makes the space busy, perhaps even distracting. When you are in a dark church, the space collapses to the region of light: this become the light shining in the darkness that the dark cannot comprehend. The resulting silence is one of concentration, fullness, expectancy. How often is it so quiet that you feel your heart beating? The dark silence also "amplified" those parts of the Mass that were audible; it furnished a suitable but contrasting setting for the chant, like a gold ring for a precious stone.

Some of these things I had noticed before at our nocturnal singing of Tenebrae, but this was different because it was a Mass, and because the Schola was in the choir loft looking at the altar from afar. I don't know how it was for the many others who were present, but I know that I went away with an enormous peace in my soul, a sense of having entered more fully and deeply into the mystery of the Passion of our Lord and the Compassion of our Lady. For this, I say, once again and always, Deo gratias.

At the Introit

At the Gospel

Incense

Before Communion

Putting Christ at the Center: On the Benedictine Arrangement

Pope Benedict XVI was well known for introducing, in the context of the celebration of the modern Roman Rite, a more traditional arrangement of the candles and crucifix upon the altar—namely, the “big six” with the cross in the middle (or, at times, seven candles—a privilege of bishops). The reason he decisively returned to this arrangement is quite simple: it greatly helps the celebrant and the faithful alike to perceive and thus to reverence the greatness of the altar of sacrifice, and, in that connection, to turn their interior gaze to Jesus Christ, who stands at the very center of the liturgical action. It is, in short, a re-centering of the community upon the Alpha and Omega, the One who offers Himself up for our salvation and makes us participants in His offering. The priest is no longer the center of attention: he is merely the “animated instrument” (as St. Thomas would say) of the Eternal High Priest. He steps back, as did St. John the Baptist, saying: “He must increase, I must decrease.”

Shifting the center of gravity from a minister to the solid and silent sacred altar and the Lord it represents and bears upon itself is a long-overdue antidote for the dreadful spirit of horizontal community-fixation and the cult of personality that entered into the Catholic Church with the abandonment of worship eastward (ad orientem). Wherever the priest and people worship facing eastwards, the Benedictine arrangement is not really necessary, although it remains beautiful and fitting. But wherever the priest is still following the novel custom of facing the people (novel because it breaks with almost 2,000 years of Christian practice), something like the Benedictine arrangement is absolutely necessary in order to preserve the meaning of the eastward orientation.

In chapter 3 of his masterpiece The Spirit of the Liturgy, Ratzinger make this point with his customary eloquence:

         The turning of the priest toward the people has turned the community into a self-enclosed circle. In its outward form, it no longer opens out on what lies ahead and above, but is locked into itself. The common turning toward the East was not a “celebration toward the wall”; it did not mean that the priest “had his back to the people”: the priest himself was not regarded as so important. For just as the congregation in the synagogue looked together toward Jerusalem, so in the Christian Liturgy the congregation looked together “toward the Lord.”
         [A] common turning to the East during the Eucharistic Prayer remains essential. This is not a case of accidentals, but of essentials. Looking at the priest has no importance. What matters is looking together at the Lord.
         Moving the altar cross to the side to give an uninterrupted view of the priest is something I regard as one of the truly absurd phenomena of recent decades. Is the cross disruptive during Mass? Is the priest more important than Our Lord?

And there is the passage where Ratzinger says that even if, at this juncture, restoring the correct orientation of worship may not be possible in every place, nevertheless it is high time to reestablish, in an obvious visible way, the primacy and centrality of Jesus Christ in the celebration of His Holy Sacrifice, and that the easiest and simplest way to do this is to put the altar cross right back where it belongs, in the very front and center of everything. Those who are familiar with Ratzinger will recognize the themes: the Church is called upon not to preach herself, to exhibit herself and offer prayers from and to herself, but rather to preach Christ Crucified, to point always to Him, to make clear the path to Him from whom all prayer begins and in whom all prayer culminates.

Given this luminous teaching and example, it is worth pointing out that Pope Francis said much the same thing when addressing an assembly of Jesuits in Rome on July 31, 2013. Although he was not speaking specifically about the sacred liturgy, what he said is an echo and elaboration of Ratzinger’s theologia crucis:

The emblem of us Jesuits is a monogram, the acronym of “Jesus, the Saviour of Mankind” (IHS). Every one of you can tell me: we know that very well! But this crest continually reminds us of a reality that we must never forget: the centrality of Christ for each one of us and for the whole Company, the Company that Saint Ignatius wanted to name “of Jesus” to indicate the point of reference. Moreover, even at the beginning of the Spiritual Exercises he places our Lord Jesus Christ, our Creator and Saviour (Spiritual Exercises, 6) in front of us. And this leads all of us Jesuits, and the whole Company, to be “decentered,” to have “Christ more and more” before us, the “Deus semper maior”, the “intimior intimo meo”, that leads us continually outside ourselves, that brings us to a certain kenosis, a “going beyond our own loves, desires, and interests” (Sp. Ex.,189). Isn’t it obvious, the question for us? For all of us? “Is Christ the center of my life? Do I really put Christ at the center of my life?” Because there is always the temptation to want to put ourselves in the center.

That is the fundamental question: Do we really put Christ at the center of the Mass? Or do we somehow manage to put ourselves there, where He alone should be?

Celebrants: Assuming the best intentions on your part, have you considered the fact that in the absence of the Benedictine altar arrangement, it can look, in practice, as if you're meant to be the center of attention? Should it not be Christ who is manifestly the center of the Mass, so that all eyes are fixed on the unique sign of God’s ineffable love for us, the Cross? Do our souls, with humble adoration, focus on the altar, whence the streams of His plentiful redemption are poured forth? For this, indeed, is what is objectively going on at any validly offered Mass, but we foolish humans can find a thousand and one ways to hide, cover, distort, or otherwise detract from that reality. Instead, we should do everything in our power to make the liturgy look and feel like what it really is.

If you have not yet adopted the Benedictine arrangement, what are you waiting for? How about the solemn liturgies coming up at Christmas? There is no better time to take a step like this than the holiest of our holy days, when Christ as Alpha and Omega should break through all the more into our minds and hearts.

If, on the other hand, you have already adopted the Benedictine arrangement in your community, think carefully about the next step that might be taken to lead the faithful into a still more profound participation in the awesomeness of the immortal and life-giving mysteries.

(For inspiration, below are photos of very different sanctuaries and altars that demonstrate the Benedictine arrangement. It will be noted that in some cases the crucifix is too small in proportion to the candles and that a larger crucifix would serve better symbolically and aesthetically. Please note, also, that a placement of seven candles is for episcopal liturgies, since the seventh candle is a privilege of the bishop.)

Dominican Rite Candle Lighting

Occasionally, people ask if there is a "proper" order in which to light the candles on the altar. Some insisting that there is only one way to do this. They usually say that the "correct" way to do this is to light the six major candles starting from the middle and moving first toward the right or "Epistle" side, then return to the middle and light from the center to the left or "Gospel" side. In snuffing the candles, the order is reversed. So they tell us, "The Gospel candle never burns alone." In fact, this practice belongs to the Roman Rite, although some Dominican provinces, such as the American Eastern Province adopted it.

But in the traditional Dominican Rite a different order was normally used and continued to be used, even after the adoption of the New Rite of Roman Mass by the Order in 1970. This order for lighting is not specified in any official ritual book of the order, which simply tell the number of candles and when to light them. Fr. Bonniwell, in this Dominican Altar Boys' Manual and his Dominican Ceremonial for Mass and Benediction, both products of the Eastern Province, simply gives the Roman way. But historically there was another way.

In the Dominican way, the candle on the far Gospel side is lighted first, then each candle in order across the altar to the Epistle side. They are snuffed in the opposite order. Thus the "Gospel Candle" burns first and longest, very suitable as the Gospel is the "Light of the World." You can see an acolyte at our Western Dominican Province House of Studies in about 1958 in the photo to the right. He is lighting the candles in the Dominican fashion: starting from the left he has already lighted the first candle and is lighting the second. You can tell that the feast was either a Double or Full Double (in the language of 1962 a First or Second Class Feast) because the acolyte is wearing alb, amice, and cinture: the Dominican Rite practice on major feasts.

The Dominican books do give explicit instructions on the number of candles to be used at Mass. This rubric is a beautiful example of the Dominican love of "progressive solemnity." The rule (Caeremoniale S.O.P. nn. 514-17) is: Six candles for solemn feasts at Mass, Matins, and Vespers, but four candles at Compline; Four Candles for mid-ranked feasts at Mass and Office, but only two at Compline; and finally, two candles at Mass and Office on ferias and lesser feasts, and the same two at Compline. Private Masses always have just two candles, no matter what the level of the feast.

A similar ranking governs the number of "Sanctus Candles" that are lighted from the Sanctus until the Purification of the vessels. These are placed in single, double, or triple branched candlesticks flanking the altar: three candles on each side on major feasts, two on each side on mid-ranked feasts, and one on each side on ferias and minor feasts. One candle, on the Epistle side, is used at Private Mass.

Another interesting practice was not to fill the altar gradines up with multiple candles sticks for different numbers of candles. Rather the six large candle sticks were the only ones used, and only the number of candles needed were lighted. Which ones to light was dependent on which candles had burned the lowest and were shortest. In the flanking photograph you can see Fr. Hilary John Martin, O.P., now professor emeritus at our Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology saying the conventual Low Mass during Passiontide in 1954. You can tell it is Passiontide because of the statue veils and the lack of an antependium. Two altar candles are lighted as is proper for a feria -- and notice that they are the two tallest ones and so need to burn down to match the others. You can see the Epistle side "Sanctus Candle" (lighted, so this is after the Sanctus); the Gospel side "Sanctus Candle" cannot be seen in this photo. The server properly wears the surplice (under his capuce since he is not ordained) since this is a public Mass. Were this a Private Mass, he would be wearing the cappa (the black cape that is part of our habit).

I thank Bro. Raymond Bertheaux, O.P., a cooperator brother of our province with over 50 years of service, for help with this posting.