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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Title page and copyright page

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

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

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

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

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

Even the thanksgiving after Mass is corporate and vocal.

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

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

Physician, heal thyself.

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

A Litany of Child Saints

As I continue to read the Roman Martyrology in connection with the Office of Prime (which counts as an ideal morning prayer for traditional Catholics both because it simply is, and because it was “abolished” by the Second Vatican Council, which means we have a particular reason to keep it going), year after year, different groups of saints stand out to me at this or that time. As long-time readers of NLM may recall, I have published prior to this a litany of subdeacon saints, a litany of minor orders, a litany of married saints, and a litany of elderly saints, all based on the Martyrology.

One category of saints that has struck me repeatedly is that of children, who are mentioned with some frequency in the pages of this liturgical book. At this time of year, when we ponder the nativity, childhood, and youth of Our Lord, it seems appropriate to invoke these saints, who showed the pagan world a wonder it had never seen or even imagined possible: the heroic witness, despite torture and death, of little ones whose faith in Christ sustained them in laying down their lives for Him.

I did not include any entries about “youths” since this probably means young adults; the age cut-off was 18. I have also not included martyrs identified as sons and daughters whose ages are not stated in the Martyrology. Finally, there are some more famous saints whose legends declare them to be within the stated age-range, but whose status as children or adolescents is not noted in the Martyrology. My interest here is to make obscure saints known and to encourage people to invoke them.

A Litany of Child Saints

(for private use)

Lord, have mercy on us. Lord, have mercy on us.
Christ, have mercy on us. Christ, have mercy on us.
Lord, have mercy on us. Lord, have mercy on us.
Christ, hear us. Christ, hear us.
Christ, graciously hear us. Christ, graciously hear us.
God the Father of heaven, have mercy on us.
God the Son, Redeemer of the world, have mercy on us.
God the Holy Ghost, have mercy on us.
Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on us.
Holy Mary, pray for us.
Holy Mother of God, pray for us.
Holy Virgin of virgins, pray for us.

St. Celsus, martyr with thy mother and seven brothers, pray for us.
St. Neophitus, scourged, cast into flames, thrown to beasts, and slain with a sword, pray for us.
SS. Modestus and Ammonius of Alexandria, pray for us.
Ye twins of the holy woman of Numidia, who all died for Christ, pray for us.
Martyred pupils of St. Laurence of Novara, pray for us.
Children of St. Palmatius, Consul of Rome, pray for us.
St. Pancras, beheaded under Diocletian, pray for us.
St. Venantius of Camerino, decapitated under Decius, pray for us.
Ye three children martyred with the bishop St. Valens, pray for us.
Ye children of the holy martyrs Susanna, Marciana, and Palladia, pray for us.
Son of St. Conon of Iconium, roasted on a red-hot gridiron and stretched on the rack, pray for us.
SS. Pergentius and Laurentine, brothers in miracles and punishments, pray for us.
St Aquilina, smitten with buffets and scourges and pierced with heated awls, pray for us.
St. Eutropia, who through torments attained the crown of martyrdom, pray for us.
St. Cyricus, three-year-old child of St. Julitta and fellow martyr, pray for us.
Thou little boy who encouraged SS. Mark and Mucian not to sacrifice to idols, pray for us.
Ye child readers in the Church of Carthage who suffered with thy bishop St. Eugene, pray for us.
Ye ten children of Alexandria who suffered with SS. Philip, Zeno, and Narseus, pray for us.
St. Celsus of Milan, enfeebled in prison and slain with the sword, pray for us.
St. Secunda, virgin martyr together with SS. Maxima, Donatilla, and Secunda, pray for us.
SS. Justus and Pastor, schoolchildren who strengthened each other in dying, pray for us.
St. Maximus of Carthage, nailed to wood and smitted with oars, pray for us.
St. Agapitus of Palestrina, fervent in love for Christ, pray for us.
St. Antonine of Capua, companion of Bishop St. Aristreus, pray for us.
St. Basilissa, who at nine years of age overcame great trials and converted the governor, pray for us.
Ye holy child-martyrs Rufinus, Silvanus, and Vitalicus, pray for us.
St. Crescentius of Rome, who fell smitted by the sword under Diocletian, pray for us.
St. Flocellus, torn to pieces by wild beasts, pray for us.
St Justus, beheaded in the persecution of Diocletian, pray for us.
Thou five-year-old confessor who threw thyself into the fire to join your mother, pray for us.
St. Paulillus, little brother of SS. Paschasius and Eutychian, condemned to basest servitude, pray for us.
St. Barula of Antioch, eloquent witness of the unity of God, pray for us.
St. Eulalia, virgin, racked, torn with hooks, and burned with torches, pray for us.
St. Dioscorus of Alexandria, repeatedly scourged and then released to his people, pray for us.
Ye children of St. Venustian of Spoleto, slain by the sword under Maximian, pray for us.

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, spare us, O Lord.
Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Lord.
Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us. 

V. The mercy of the Lord is from eternity and unto eternity upon them that fear Him:
R. And His justice unto children’s children, to such as keep His covenant.

Let us pray. Almighty and everlasting Father, who dost choose the weak things of the world to confound the strong, mercifully grant that we who honor the memory and invoke the intercession of these, Thy children saints, may experience their pleasing intercession with Thee, through our Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, who livest and reignest with Thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God for ever and ever. Amen.
 

Sources in the Martyrology

Jan. 9. At Antioch, under Diocletian and Maximian, the birthday of St Julian, Martyr, and of Basilissa, Virgin, his wife, who kept her virginity while with her husband, and ended her life in peace. But Julian (after a crowd of priests and ministers of Christ’s Church, who fled to them because of the cruel persecution, had been burnt with fire) was tortured with many torments at the command of the governor Marcian and condemned to death. With him suffered also Antony, a priest, and Anastasius. The latter, after he had been raised from the dead, Julian himself had made a sharer of Christ’s grace. Celsus, a boy, with his mother Marcionilla, and his seven brothers, and many others, suffered martyrdom.

Jan. 20. At Nicaea in Bithynia, St Neophitus, Martyr, who, when fifteen years old, was scourged, cast into a furnace and thrown to the beasts; but as he remained unhurt, and constantly professed the faith of Christ, he was at last slain with the sword.

Feb. 12. At Alexandria, the holy child martyrs Modestus and Ammonius.

Apr. 29. At Cirta in Numidia, the birthday of the holy martyrs Agapius and Secundinus, Bishops, who after a long exile in this city and a glorious priesthood, ended as illustrious martyrs in the persecution of Valerian, in which the fury of the Gentiles greatly raged in trial of the faith of the righteous. There suffered in the same company Emilian, a soldier, Tertulla and Antonia, holy Virgins, and a certain woman with her twin children.

Apr. 30. At Novara, St Laurence, Priest, and certain children, Martyrs, received by him to be educated.

May 10. At Rome, blessed Calepodius, Priest and Martyr, whom the Emperor Alexander had slain with the sword, and his body dragged through the city and cast into the Tiber. Pope Callistus buried it after it had been recovered. Palmatius the consul was also beheaded, with his wife and children, and forty-two others of his household, of both sexes; likewise Simplicius the Senator with his wife and sixty-eight of his household; and also Felix with Blanda his wife, whose heads were suspended at different gates of the City as a warning to the Christians.

May 12. In the same city, on the Via Aurelia, St Pancras, Martyr, who at the age of fourteen was martyred under Diodetian by beheading.
 

St. Pancras, from the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia in Barcelona

May 18. At Camerino, St Venantius, Martyr, who when fifteen years old fulfilled the course of a glorious combat by decapitation, together with ten others, under the Emperor Decius and the governor Antiochus.

May 21. St Valens, Bishop, who was slain with three children.

May 24. Likewise of the holy martyrs Susanna, Marciana and Palladia, wives of these soldiers, who were slain together with their children.

May 29. At Iconium in Lycaonia, the passion of St Conon and his twelve-year-old son. In the reign of the Emperor Aurelian they were placed on a red-hot gridiron over burning coals on which oil had been poured; they were also stretched on the rack and courageously suffered burning with fire; lastly their hands were broken with a wooden mallet and they yielded up their spirits.

June 3. At Arezzo in Tuscany, the holy martyrs Pergentius and Laurentine, brothers, who, though they were children, were slain with the sword in the persecution of Decius under the governor Tiburtius, after having endured dire punishments and performed great miracles.

June 13. At Byblos in Phrenicia, St Aquilina, Virgin and Martyr, who when twelve years old, under the Emperor Diocletian and the judge Volusian, was smitten with buffets and scourges for her confession of the Catholic faith, and pierced with heated awls. At length, slain with the sword, she consecrated her virginity by martyrdom.

June 15. At Sibapolis in Turkey, the holy martyrs Libya and Leonidis, sisters, and Eutropia, a girl of twelve years, who through various torments reached the crown of martyrdom.

June 16. At Tarsus in Cilicia, the holy martyrs Cyricus and Julitta, his mother, under the Emperor Diocletian. The former, a child of three years, grieved inconsolably for his mother, was most severely scourged with whips by the governor Alexander, and died, struck down on the steps of the tribunal. Julitta, after grievous stripes and severe torments, fulfilled the course of her martyrdom by being beheaded.
 

Russian icon of SS. Cyricus and Julitta.

July 3. On the same day, the holy martyrs Mark and Mucian, who were slain with the sword for Christ’s sake. When a little boy called upon them with a loud voice that they should not sacrifice to idols, he was ordered to be scourged; and as he then confessed Christ more vehemently, he was slain, together with one Paul who was exhorting the martyrs.

July 13. In Africa, the holy Confessor Eugene, Bishop of Carthage, glorious for faith and virtues, and all the clergy of that Church, who to the number of 500 or more (among whom were several children who fulfilled the office of readers), weakened by attacks and famine in the Vandal persecution under the Arian King Hunneric, and, rejoicing in the Lord, were sent far away into cruel exile. The most celebrated among them were an archdeacon named Salutaris, and Muritta, second officer of this Church, who thrice confessed Christ and were gloriously resplendent in Christ because of their perseverance.

July 15. At Alexandria, the holy martyrs Philip, Zeno, Narseus and ten children.

July 28. At Milan, the birthday of SS. Nazarius and Celsus, a boy, Martyrs, whom Anolinus, in the fury of the persecution aroused by Nero, for a long time enfeebled and kept in prison, and then ordered to be slain with the sword.

July 30. At Tuburbo Lucernaria in Africa, the holy virgins and martyrs Maxima, Donatilla and Secunda; the two former, in the persecution of Valerian and Gallienus, were made to drink vinegar and gall, then beaten with very sharp stripes and tortured by being stretched upon the rack, burnt on gridirons and rubbed with lime. Afterwards, together with Secunda, a maiden of twelve years, they were thrown to the beasts, but as they were untouched by them, they were slain with the sword.

Aug. 6. At Alcala de Henares in Spain, the holy martyrs Justus and Pastor, brothers, who while still children in school, casting away their class books, willingly hastened to martyrdom. Forthwith Dacian the governor ordered them to be arrested and scourged. They strengthened each other with great constancy by mutual exhortation, and being led forth from the city, their throats were cut by the executioner.
 

SS. Justus and Pastor. Las Palmas (Gran Canaria). Museo Diocesano de Arte Sacro

Aug. 17. At Carthage in Africa, the holy martyrs Liberatus (Abbot), Boniface (Deacon), Servus and Rusticus (Subdeacons), Rogatus and Septimus (monks) and Maximus, a boy; in the Vandal persecution under King Hunneric they were assailed by various unheard-of tortures for confessing the Catholic faith and defending the non-repetition of baptism. Last of all they were fastened with nails to pieces of wood wherewith they were to be burnt; but although the fire was kindled again and again, yet by the power of God it was each time extinguished, and by command of the king they were smitten with oars and their brains dashed out, so that they were slain, and thus, being crowned by the Lord, they fulfilled the splendid course of their battle.

Aug. 18. At Palestrina, the birthday of St Agapitus, Martyr, who was arrested by command of the Emperor Aurelian at the age of fifteen, being fervent in love for Christ. He was first of all scourged for a long time with thongs of raw hide, and then, under Antiochus the prefect, suffered more severe punishments; finally, when by the Emperor’s command he was thrown to the lions, and yet not hurt, he was struck with the sword by the Emperor’s hirelings, and crowned with martyrdom.

Sep. 3. At Capua, the holy martyrs Aristreus, Bishop, and Antonine, a boy.

Sep. 3. At Nicomedia, the passion of St Basilissa, Virgin and Martyr; though she was only nine years of age, yet by the power of God she overcame scourges, fire and the beasts under the governor Alexander, in the persecution of the Emperor Diocletian. So she converted the governor to the faith of Christ, and at length gave up her spirit to God while she was at prayer outside the city.

Sep. 4. At Ancyra in Galatia, the birthday of the three holy children Rufinus, Silvanus and Vitalicus, Martyrs.

Sep. 14. At Rome, St Crescentius, a boy, the son of St Euthymius, who fell, smitten by the sword, in the persecution of Diocletian, under the judge Turpilius, on the Via Salaria.

Sep. 17. At Autun, St Flocellus, a boy, who suffered much under Antoninus the emperor and Valerian the governor, and at last, being torn to pieces by wild beasts, obtained the crown of martyrdom.

Oct. 18. At Saint-Just-en-Chausee, in the neighbourhood of Beauvais, St Justus, who, while yet a boy, was beheaded in the persecution of Diocletian under the governor Rictiovarus.

Oct. 24. Among the Homerites in the city of Nagran in Arabia, the passion of SS. Aretas and his 340 companions in the time of the Emperor Justin, under the Jewish tyrant Dunaan. After these, a Christian woman was delivered to the flames, and her son, five years old, in his lisping voice confessed Christ, and could not be silenced by promises or threats, but threw himself headlong into the fire where his mother was burning.

Nov. 13. In Africa, the holy martyrs Arcadius, Paschasius, Probus and Eutychian, Spaniards, who in the Vandal persecution, since they would by no means turn aside to the Arian heresy, were by the Arian King Genseric first of all proscribed, then sent into exile and tortured with the keenest punishments, and afterwards slain by various kinds of death. At that time also shone forth the courage of Paulillus, the little brother of SS. Paschasius and Eutychian, who, since he could in no way be turned from the Cathoiic faith, was long beaten with rods and condemned to the basest servitude.

Nov. 18. At Antioch, the birthday of St Romanus, Martyr, who in the reign of the Emperor Galerius, when the prefect Asclepiades broke into the church and attempted completely to destroy it, exhorted the rest of the Christians to oppose him. And so after severe torments his tongue was cut out (but even without it he spoke praise of God) and then he was strangled in prison, and crowned by an illustrious martyrdom. Before him there suffered also a young boy named Barula, who, being asked by the same prefect whether it were better to worship one God or many, replied that we must needs believe in the one God whom the Christians worship. Wherefore he was beaten and ordered to be beheaded.
 

Zurbaran, SS. Romanus and Barulas

Dec. 10. At Merida in Spain, the passion of St Eulalia, Virgin, who when she was twelve years old suffered many torments. for her confession of Christ, under the Emperor Maximian, by command of the governor Dacian. Last of all she was placed on the rack and torn with hooks, burning torches applied to her sides, and when the fire died out, she gave up the ghost.

Dec. 14. At Alexandria, the holy martyrs Heron, Arsenius, Isidore and Dioscorus, a child; the first three the judge, in the Decian persecution, ordered to be delivered to the flames, after he had wounded them by various tortures, and saw that all were armed with equal constancy; Dioscorus however was again and again scourged, and then, by the divine will, released, to the consolation of the faithful.

Dec. 30. At Spoleto, the birthday of the holy martyrs Sabinus, Bishop of Assisi, Exuperantius and Marcellus, Deacons, and Venustian the governor, with his wife and children, under the Emperor Maximian. Of these Marcellus and Exuperantius were first of all stretched on the rack, then grievously beaten with scourges, afterwards torn with hooks and roasted by the burning of their sides and so fulfilled martyrdom; but Venustian, not long after, was slain with the sword, with his wife and children, while St Sabinus, after his hands had been cut off, and he had suffered a long imprisonment, was scourged even to death. The martyrdoms of these saints, although they took place at various times, are remembered on the same day.

Photos of stained-glass windows by Fr. Lawrence Lew, O.P.

Why Archaic and Elevated Bible Translations Are Better, Especially for Liturgical Use

In an article last month, “Against Vernacular Readings in the Traditional Mass,” I spoke about why the traditional Latin Mass should remain in Latin for all of its parts, including the readings. However, I would not wish to be misunderstood as an opponent of vernacular translations of Scripture. On the contrary, there is an important twofold place for these translations: first, as a “support” to the congregation at Mass, either by way of their missals or from the pulpit before the homily; second, as a “mainstay” for lectio divina or personal meditation on Scripture. In keeping with the principle of St. Augustine, one should consult a variety of editions of the Bible because each will bring out meanings that the others do not. (The limit to this is merely a practical one: there are only so many Bibles one can juggle, and it is beneficial to have a “primary” Bible for the sake of memory and thorough familiarity.) Even knowledge of the original language of Scripture—Hebrew for the Old Testament and Greek for the New—does not obviate the need for other languages. For example, the Greek Septuagint offers invaluable insights into the Old Testament that the Masoretic text cannot supply.

This much is clear to me: for public proclamation of the Word of God, the translation we use should not be in “contemporary English” as it is spoken—or rather, cheapened and slaughtered—in today’s society. There are many reasons for this judgment in favor of archaic eloquence. Here I will present one set of reasons articulated by Fr. Luke Bell in his book Staying Tender: Contemplation, Pathway to Compassion (Angelico, 2020). Fr. Bell explains why he has chosen to quote from the King James Version:

Readers of early drafts of the book have suggested that this might be more difficult for people to get their head around than a modern version, so a word of explanation is in order. I don’t want you to get your head around it. I want it to get into your heart. I have chosen this version because it is poetic. T. S. Eliot observed (in connection with Dante) that “genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.”
       That is to say that what comes through it is more than what the mind can grasp, at least to begin with. It speaks first of all to intuition rather than to any analytical faculty. That in us which sees the whole is touched by the poet’s own vision of the whole, its words awakening in us what awoke the words in him or her. Just as an inspiration of the oneness of creation can sometimes come through the beauty of nature, so a sense of the one divine source of all meaning can sometimes be received through poetry. It is the genre of the transcendent. Through it can be heard an echo of the music of eternity.
       If all this is true of poetry it should be true a fortiori of versions of Scripture, which is above all the text through which the transcendent comes to us. If we word it so it reflects back to us the quotidian banalities of our own speech with all the limitations of its vision, reducing in effect what it speaks of to that of which we speak, then we tend to make it tamer than it should be. We risk the complacency of thinking we have mastered it replacing the aspiration that it should master us…
       An older version, written when the language was richer and less abstract, is more likely to make us pause before the mystery, to humble us before the numinous, to open us to what comes from beyond.

Frontispiece of KJV, 1611 ed.

In Anthony Lo Bello’s extremely interesting, if eccentric and occasionally erroneous, Origins of Catholic Words: A Discursive Dictionary (Washington, D.C.: CUA Press, 2020), we read this marvelous quotation from Theodore Dwight Woolsey (1801–1889), chairman of the American New Testament Committee and ex-president of Yale University, who wrote in 1879, concerning the impending revision of the King James Version:

We would here guard against a wrong inference which might be drawn from our remarks, as if in a translation for the nineteenth century the words most in use in the century, and most familiar to the ears of the people, ought always to take the place of others less in use, which, however, retain their place in the language. This is far from being a safe rule. One of the most important impressions which the Word of God makes is made by its venerableness. The dignity and sanctity of the truth are supported by the elevation of the style, and woe to the translator who should seek to vulgarize the Bible, on the plea of rendering it more intelligible. Understood it must be, and this must be provided for by removing the ambiguities and obscurities to which changes in society and changes in the expression of thought give rise. But as long as the English is a living tongue, the style of the scriptures must be majestic, and removed from all vulgarity. Indeed, it must be such as it is now, with those exceptions, few in number, which time brings with it, and most of which will hardly be noticed by the cursory reader.

Another one of the revisers, A. B. Davidson (1831–1902), professor of Hebrew in Ediburgh, commented on the same topic:

The antique cast of style must be retained. Nothing that is not absolutely wrong, or not absolutely out of use, should be removed. The modern vocabulary, and the modern order of words, and the modern cast of sentence must be avoided. Any change of familiar passages will grate on the ear, and even on the heart, of the devout reader.

These men were part of the committee that produced what we now call the Revised Version (OT, 1881; NT, 1885). As Lo Bello wryly remarks, “another point of view was that to be discovered in the literary principle of the Roman Consilium” in connection with translations of the Roman Missal:

The language chosen should be that in “common” usage, that is, suited to the greater number of the faithful who speak it in everday use, even “children and persons of small education.” (Comme le prévoit, 1969)

Hmm. Let’s take the liturgy, the highest and most sublime public activity known to man, and render it into the most commonplace language we can manage, easy enough for little kids and the uneducated to follow. And then let’s ask people to listen to this week in, week out, for decades of their lives. What wonderful results can be predicted! They will fall in love with this facile discourse! They will mutter the memorable words as they go about their day, as people in former times would sing folksongs or savor tales. Their dreams will be permeated with the phrases and periods of the New American Bible, like so many susurrant winds or heaving waves. The very discourse of Catholics in the home and in the market will be shaped by the resonance of ICEL’s prose, as once upon a time the English tongue was leavened with the lines of the Bard of Avon.

I’m afraid not.

What's that about not judging a book by its cover? 

The truth of the matter is that an elevated diction, unusual rhetorical tropes, a spacious and ponderous feel, are all highly suitable to signifying that this book is like no other book, and that it is worthy of our attention and our effort. We must, to some extent, strain to it, in order to find out what it is saying; its lack of immediate comprehensibility is a shield against contempt. Anything easily understood is viewed by us as beneath us, inferior to our own power of understanding; at best, it will be classified as “useful,” at worst as worthless. I remember hearing one Sunday at Mass the word “froward” in the Epistle that was read from the pulpit before the homily: I said to myself: “What in the world does froward mean?” Much later, I learned that it meant difficult to deal with, contrary, ornery. The word actually stuck in my memory better because I did not know what it meant.

That reminds me, too, of times when our children would ask us what something meant in a story or a poem or at Mass. Usually they asked us about something strange in a text—something that went beyond their reading comprehension. And the answer provided by my wife or me was often an occasion for a brief catechetical lesson.

It seems to me that there is so much wisdom to be found in the practice, common to every religious tradition on earth, of using more archaic and more solemn forms of language as part of the act of worship. I would be remiss not to mention in this connection the stellar example given to the English-speaking world by the Anglican Ordinariate, which has brought into Catholic life, for the first time since the Council, a truly lofty and noble register of vernacular. And I daresay “even children and persons of small education” are instructed, inspired, and intrigued thereby.

Back In Print At Last: Enid Chadwick’s My Book of the Church’s Year

As a regular NLM reader likes to say: “The hits keep on comin’!” Even in these dark times of ours, we hear news on an almost daily basis of new (positive) pastoral initiatives, new locations of the old Mass, new sacred music commissions, new religious communities and apostolates, and especially new traditional Catholic books of the highest quality. What was once a trickle has become a river.

Some years ago, I attempted to reprint a gem of a book, Enid Chadwick’s My Book of the Church’s Year. My cheap and flimsy paperback was by no means adequate to the task, and I let the project fall by the wayside. Happily, Lisa Bergman of St Augustine Academy Press, well known for their book Treasure and Tradition (available now in English, Spanish, and Portuguese), has just released a beautiful hardcover edition of Chadwick done so well that the endpapers, thickly-textured paper, and rich color illustrations of the original edition are all faithfully reproduced. The photos will show this better than any words.

Lisa asked me to contribute a Foreword, which I was glad to do, as this is one of my all-time favorite children’s books. Here’s part of what I wrote:

It’s the loveliest, most charming, and in many ways most clever introduction to the liturgical calendar I’ve ever come across. It is informed by a deep Catholic love for the seasons of the year, the feasting and fasting, the great holy days, the pageantry of the saints and their stories, the underlying rhythm that connects nature, culture, and sanctity. . . . Though written and illustrated by a High Church Anglican, the feasts depicted in this book differ only in very minor ways from the traditional Catholic calendar. Chadwick’s handsome illustrations are simple enough for young children, and yet at the same time full of complexities for those who are attentive.

My Foreword includes pointers on the theological insights built into the illustrations, comments on terms and calendar features, and notes on particular saints who may be less known to readers. As Fr Hunwicke recently pointed out, it can be striking to see how closely traditional Anglican publications like Chadwick’s correspond to the ethos and even the details of traditional Roman Catholicism than either of them do to anything from the sphere of the Novus Ordo. Examples would include an emphasis on Christ coming in judgment; Epiphanytide; January 1st as the Circumcision; February 2nd as the Purification or Candlemas; February 14th as St. Valentine; Septuagesimatide, with mention of Lenten fasting; Passiontide; Low Sunday; May 3rd as the Finding of the Holy Cross; Rogationtide; the lifting of the chasuble at the elevation and kneeling for communion (p. 33); a catafalque on All Souls, being incensed by a priest in a black cope; and so forth. Such things are simply not to be found in children’s books published after 1969.

Helpfully, Lisa has provided at the book link an electronic flip-through of the contents (scroll to the bottom of the page to find it) for anyone who would like to preview the content before purchasing. If you are looking for an ideal Advent or Christmas gift, a read-aloud to catechize about the liturgical year, or a special weapon for the arsenal of books for little ones to look at in church, you’ll want to check this out!

Some comparison photos, showing the original 1948 edition and the 2018 facsimile edition (selling at the website for $12.95).

Sinite Parvulos (Part 2) - An Excellent Column about Children at Mass

Judging from our viewing statistics, people really liked comedian Jeremy McLellan’s take on the recent discussion over bringing young children to Mass. (McLellan was responding to a piece on the blog of Fr Michael White, pastor of Nativity Church in Timonium, Maryland, entitled “Why We Don’t Encourage (Little) Kids in Church.”) On the same topic, I strongly commend to our readers’ attention a superb piece entitled “The Liturgy is for (Little) Kids” at Church Life Journal, written by founding editor Timothy O’Malley, who is also the director of the Notre Dame Center for Liturgy. Here are a few excerpts; you should definitely take the time to read the whole thing.

“From my perspective, Fr. White’s argument is flawed not simply because he argues for the exclusion of young children from the act of parochial worship. Rather, the blog post reveals a misunderstanding of the nature of the liturgical act itself. This misunderstanding is not unique to Fr. White, but has infected most Catholic parishes in the West well before Vatican II. When one reduces the liturgical act to “understanding,” then there is an erasure of the contemplative, aesthetic, and thus embodied formation that is integral to a worshipful existence. ...

Young children perceive the mystery of divine love in the mode that is appropriate to an infant or young child. To deny them this act of perception is in essence to say that God can only communicate in the mode that we find appropriate for our sophisticated, intelligent, rational, and adult faith. ...

In this sense, Fr. White’s blog post is but endemic of Catholic worship in the United States at this stage. Liturgies are cacophonies of verbal proclamations, of sermons, of explaining rites and the meaning of feasts. There is so little to behold in churches that have been built as suburban shopping malls. Music is chosen not because it provides something to perceive, the beauty of ordered sound used to worship God, but instead to get across a “message” in hymn texts that are often more ideological than aesthetic or theological. There is often so little gravitas to the activity of worship, a sense that we have to adjust ourselves to adore God, since what we long for is a pleasing and meaningful act of worship.

Perhaps, what we need to do is not exclude children from the act of worship. Instead, we must understand liturgical worship as if the primary participants in the act of worship will be infants. Instead of relying on endless speech, on communication media including video screens, we must create spaces where all the senses are involved in worship. Emphasizing understanding through speech brackets out a good deal of what it means to be a human being.

So rather than create a special liturgy for children appropriate to their understanding, let us have music that is worth listening to and singing along with. Let us build altarpieces and reredos that actually give both infants and adults something to behold in worship. Let us attend to the way that light sanctifies space, how color delights the eye. And perhaps some of the children are bored at Mass, not because they are incapable of understanding what is going on, but because there is too much speech and not enough silence, not enough embodied action, not enough to behold.”

Laudate, pueri, Dominum!

Sinite Parvulos

Catholic comedian Jeremy McLellan weighs in on the discussion provoked by a post on the blog of Fr Michael White, pastor of Nativity Church in Timonium, Maryland, entitled “Why We Don’t Encourage (Little) Kids in Church.” As is so often the case, there is already a solution to the problem, and what’s old is new again...

A Child Singing with the Angels: The Non-Funerary Funeral

Louis Janmot (1814-1892), Souvenir du ciel

In my old St. Andrew’s Daily Missal — or rather, my reprint of the 1945 edition, which I love both because of its superb commentaries, and because its calendar and Holy Week match up with the customs of an increasing number of traditional parishes nowadays — we find the following heading on p. 1821: “The Burial of Little Children.” The commentary reads:

When a baptized child dies before reaching the age of reason, it goes at once to heaven to praise God and enjoy Him with the angels. Wherefore the Gloria Patri of the Psalms is not replaced by the Requiem aeternam, and the Mass is the Votive Mass of the Angels, with white vestments and Gloria in excelsis, unless the rubrics prescribe the Mass of the day. If in the afternoon, Votive Vespers of the Angels may be sung.

I can’t remember when I first heard about this beautiful custom of not celebrating a Mass for the Dead or funeral Mass for such a little child, but rather a Mass of the Angels; it was probably a couple of decades ago by now. But since I had long been attending only university chapels and did not live near a traditional parish, no occasion like this had ever occurred. It remained theoretical knowledge.

Recently, however, a little child died in our local community, and the rector of the nearby oratory of the Institute of Christ the King offered the Mass just as described above. I had the privilege of singing in the Choir. I found the entire thing extremely striking, and wish to share some thoughts on it, since this old custom has barely survived into the post-Montinian era.

The first thing that must be said is that the old custom bespeaks a resolutely and audaciously supernatural perspective: when all are mourning the loss of a citizen of earth, the Church rejoices in the gaining of a saint in heaven. The Introit of the Requiem Mass pleads: “Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon them.” The Introit of the Mass of the Angels exults: “Bless the Lord all ye His angels: you that are mighty in strength, and execute His word, listening to the voice of His orders.” Then the verse challenges us with an imperative: “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and let all that is within me bless His holy name.” We are told to do the very thing the departed child is now doing, whose soul, with all that is within it, blesses the Lord.

Holy Mother Church bids us sing with and honor the angels, among whom is found the soul of this little child, a soul already mature in Christ through baptism, adorned with the full complement of infused virtues. The Epistle in the words of the Apocalypse brings before us the hosts of heaven, spirits and souls of the just, saying: “To Him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb, benediction, and honor, and glory and power, for ever and ever.” There is no danger of hell for the baptized child, nor any deportation to the fires of purgatory; the gates of heaven are immediately flung open to receive this sinless, guiltless adopted son of God. This is why the interlectional chants proclaim: “Praise ye the Lord from the heavens: praise Him in the high places. … Alleluia, alleluia. I will sing praise to Thee in the sight of the angels: I will worship towards Thy holy temple, and I will give glory to Thy name. Alleluia.”

Just as, with apparently wild-eyed fanaticism (though in truth it is but the most sober right judgment) the Church, according to John Henry Newman, can say it were better for the entire universe to perish than that one sin be wilfully committed, [1] so too, with a queenly confidence born of the mercies of the King, the Church, says the usus antiquior, deems it better, more truthful, more grateful, to don white vestments and sing alleluia for a Christian who dies before the age of reason than to put on black and utter the aweful words of the Dies Irae. [2]

The liturgical reform, monstrous in its rationalist leveling of every irregularity, [3] could not tolerate this sharp distinction between the lightsome angelic Mass for the child saint and the dark Requiem Mass for the adult sinner; in its baffling dullness of heart, the reform was blind both to supernatural realities and natural ones. [4] The sable grief that follows the dead man weighed down with years, the urgent reminder to pray for the repose of his soul, the supernatural glory that surrounds a babe of days snatched from this world and thus preserved from the scourge of sin, temptation, vice, anguish, and all the ills that cling to fallen human life—such horizons of life and faith were closed off to utilitarian brains.

The Montinian reform turned everything upside-down. It converted Requiems into informal beatifications, draped in the white of an Easter triumph presumed to be already gained, while suppressing the only instance where white vestments ought to be worn and alleluias and doxologies chanted, where heavenly glory may be joyfully, through a veil of tears, acknowledged as accomplished. The reform took away from the small child the Mass of the Angels that befitted it, and bestowed the honors of the altar on the old man to whom it was foreign, and who needs earnest suffrages for pardon and salvation. Salva me, fons pietatis! It took away this magnificent testimony of faith in a victory known to be won by a few, and substituted a pseudo-victory vainly extended to all.

And why does the old liturgy exhort us, in the very presence of the child’s dead body, to praise the Lord — a sentiment that might seem out of place, to say the least? Here is where the eye of faith is more necessary than ever, to see what should be seen, and not to be clouded over by our frail flesh.

The one and only ultimate end of man is the beatific vision. If someone attains this, he has attained the purpose for which he was created and redeemed. If someone fails to attain this, he has failed as a human being and as a Christian. Our final condition is either total victory or total failure: we have gained all, or lost all. There is nothing in between. The only “happy ending” is heaven, and the only “tragedy” is hell. The rest is relative. The baptized child who dies, although not granted by Divine Providence the relative good of life in this world, has been granted the absolute good of eternal life in the world to come.

This is what all Christians say they desire: eternal life in God. This is the goal of our pilgrimage. And that is why Holy Mother Church, with her lofty and utterly realistic wisdom, clothes herself in white and sings the Mass of the Angels for the little baptized child who flies from this world, and sings with no less fervor the Requiem Mass, clad in black. Alleluia is the song of the lover and the visionary; the Dies Irae is the sequence of the worldly and battleweary. That such customs as these ever had to be swept away is part of the “mystery of iniquity” that surrounds the 20th-century Church. That such customs are beginning to come back is part of the mystery of Providence that surprises the Church of the 21st-century.

NOTES

[1] The text is found in Difficulties of Anglicans, and is quoted in my article “The Denial of the Law of God and His Rights.”

[2] The traditional difference between the funeral of the child who dies before the age of reason and the funeral of everyone else extends beyond the Mass to the obsequies afterwards. In the typical burial, the psalms, verses, and prayers are penitential and pleading for mercy; the child’s burial, on the contrary, can draw from Psalm 118 (“Blessed are the undefiled in the way”) and Psalms 148–150 (“Praise ye the Lord from the heavens”); Psalm 23 (“The earth is the Lord’s”) is recited, followed by this beautiful collect: “O almighty and most merciful God, who dost immediately grant eternal life to every little child who goeth forth from this world after being born again in the baptismal font, without any merit of his own, even as we believe Thou hast done this day for the soul of this little child; grant, we beseech Thee, O Lord, through the intercession of blessed Mary, ever Virgin, and of all the saints, that we may serve Thee here with clean hearts and be united with these blessed children for ever in heaven.”

[3] See my article “In Praise of Irregularity.”

[4] See my article “The Scandal of the Modern Catholic Funeral.”

Visit www.peterkwasniewski.com for information, articles, sacred music, and Os Justi Press.

Biblical Typology For Children: Three Books From Emmaus Road Publishing

Building the Way to Heaven: The Tower of Babel and Pentecost 
The End of the Fiery Sword: Adam and Eve and Jesus and Mary 
Into the Sea, Out of the Tomb: Jonah and Jesus

These are the first in the Old and New Series, all written by Maura Roan McKeegan and illustrated by T. Schluenderfritz. Their goal is to introduce to children to the principle of biblical typology, that is, how the Old Testament people, symbols, and events foreshadow those in the New Testament. I do not know of any other children’s books that approach these topics in this way. It’s a great idea and it has been executed well.

There are attractive illustrations which use some of the visual vocabulary of Christian tradition (e.g. halos, and a mandorla) and the two streams of narrative are placed side by side so that the parallels cannot be missed.

I would certainly recommend all of these as part of Scriptural education for all children. Thank you to all involved for this project!

Reading through them, it seems to me that they would work best for those children who have a prior knowledge of the Biblical passages, and sufficient intellectual formation to be able to understand the concept of literary symbolism. The publisher recommends 7 years old; I wonder if for most it might be a little older than that. You can order them on the publisher’s website, here. Thanks to Peter K. for bringing these books to my attention, by the way, (Peter recently featured a wonderful book that does the same for grown-ups, Jean Danielou’s From Shadows to Reality)

There are so many reasons which the study of Scripture is
important, but here are some that relate to the value of biblical typology in particular, which these books address.

The first is that the themes in salvation history are a pattern of events that relate to each of us in our personal pilgrimage of salvation. Once we grasp the idea of the interrelatedness of all things, by understanding how particular and significant episodes in Scripture are related to each other, it facilitates a mode of thinking by which we more naturally place our own story, and hence ourselves, into that picture. So, for example, the crossing of the Red Sea relates to the Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan and the descent of the Spirit, and then also to our own sacramental Baptism and Confirmation, by which each of us dies and rises spiritually and receives the Spirit (1 Cor, 10, 1-5). Our foretaste of eternal life to come, like Israel eating manna in the desert on the way to the promised land, is our reception of Holy Communion, the pledge of our own future life and resurrection (John 6, 54). Each of us has a story by which we die with Christ, and as Christians are raised up with him too. I am reminded that this applies to me every time I walk into a church and cross myself with the holy water - ‘Jordan water’.

The second is that this can be the basis of a formation that is, in my estimation, more likely to help children retain their faith when they get older, and see them through the teenage years. This goes further than simply teaching the truths of the Faith, which is, of course, vitally important too. Those that develop this way of thinking will then be more inclined to read the Book of Nature and those aspects of the culture, including the natural hierarchies in society, allegorically, and take delight in it. For such people, all that they see points to the unseen, and all that is good points to God. They will perceive a pattern in the world around them and be able to fill in the missing piece of the jigsaw puzzle, so to speak. Except that this piece is not missing exactly; rather, it is real and present, but invisible. I wrote about this mode of thinking in greater depth in an earlier article, here: The Good the Better and the Sunday Best: Using St Thomas’s Fourth Way to Evangelize and Retain Faith in the Young.

The place where all of this comes to together and is illuminated most powerfully for us in the liturgy. The actions of the liturgy are powerfully symbolic. These books, therefore, will help to enrich participation in the liturgy, both through the content learned and the stimulation of this mode of thought by which we start to read what is happening, even relating to those aspects not directly taught in the books. I need hardly describe to readers of this website how beneficial this will be, in turn, to all aspects of human life if realized.

In a matter relating to my own particular focus of interest, in my opinion, the study of Biblical typology is something that should be mandatory for all people who wish to paint sacred art. Danielou’s book is more likely to be appropriate for the training of the artist, but all artists should be able to create art, intended for children or adults, which reflects such a training and communicates the truth of the Faith through beautiful art. In the Roman Church, we are at the early stages of re-establishing this as a living tradition, but once done (and I remain hopeful that it will be done), then a book could connect the themes described even more directly to the traditional liturgical art of the Church. I look forward to the day when a seven-year-old could walk into the Baptistry in Florence and instantly understand what he or she is seeing, because it not only reflects the lessons learned in a book such as this, but also the images they see in their recently built hometown parish church!

A Template for A Liturgically-Oriented General Catholic Education for Children

Book review: Educating in Christ: A Practical Handbook for Developing the Catholic Faith from Childhood to Adolescence For Parents, Teachers, Catechists and School Administrators, by Gerard O’Shea

This wonderful book, available from Angelico press, describes the principles for teaching methods and curriculum design for young children up to adolescence.

The author is Professor of Religious Education at the University of Notre Dame, Sydney, Australia, and the recommendations of the back cover, which I reproduce below, include two from fellow Australians who will be known to NLM readers: Bishop Peter Elliot, and Tracey Rowland.

What delighted me particularly is that Prof. O’Shea is offering something that is deeper and more profound that the usual recommendation of a classical-curriculum, Great-Books or liberal-arts education. For all the nobility of what is taught and read, these can still represent what is essentially a secular education.

In this book, he describes the basis of a uniquely Catholic approach to education that seeks to take students beyond the simple absorption of the material taught in the classrom, and lead them to a supernatural transformation in Christ. As such, and unusually, it is true to what the Church is asking for from our educators. Take for example, St Pius X in Divini Illius Magistri, who tells us that the goal of a Catholic education is the formation of “the supernatural man who thinks, judges and acts constantly and consistently in accordance with right reason illumined by the supernatural light of the example and teaching of Christ.”

We are given precise details and concrete measures that are easily followed. Balancing the natural and the supernatural, the theoretical and the practical, and combining the best of traditional methods with modern educational theory and psychology (with great prudence), O’Shea describes how a mystagogical catechesis, rooted in the study of scripture and the actual worship of God, is at the heart of every Catholic education. Then he describes how teaching methods and curricula should reflect these principles for children of different ages.

Another reason for my particular interest in this book is that it provides a basis for the incorporation of the Way of Beauty into education at levels below tertiary education (which is the focus of my book The Way of Beauty). From time to time, parents do ask me about this; now I know where to send them. O’Shea’s focus is more on general education than mine, but he provides a broad educational framework that will nurture the pursuit of creative arts in the way I think ought to be done, because it is based upon the same philosophy of education.

Below you will find the summary of the book from the publisher, and recommendations from the back cover:

EDUCATING IN CHRIST covers the essential practical and theoretical elements of religious education and catechetics for parents, catechists, teachers, and Catholic school administrators. The first part of the book responds to contemporary calls from the Popes for a religious education based upon authentic Christian anthropology. It provides a comprehensive outline of religious developmental stages, indicating activities appropriate for each of these from age three years to adolescence. It also takes into account the call of recent Church documents to approach this task from a “mystagogical” angle, linking the sacraments with the scriptures. In the second part, the best of contemporary teaching practices are linked with sound Montessori principles and the Catholic understanding of a pedagogy of God. Busy Catholic school administrators will find the provided summary of Catholic teaching on education since Vatican II a very useful reference tool. Teachers and home-schooling parents will find the sections on classroom methods, and the curriculum outline based on the liturgical year, especially helpful.

“In anxious times, this practical book is good news for parents, teachers, and catechists who introduce Catholic faith and morals to children and young people. The author offers a way forward that is Trinitarian, Christ-centered, and yet fully attentive to the needs of the child.”
— MOST REV. PETER J. ELLIOTT, Auxiliary Bishop, Catholic Archdiocese of Melbourne.

“If you regard the objective of religious education as the formation of a Catholic heart, memory, intellect, and imagination, then you will consider Educating in Christ an indispensable text. Drawing on ideas from Maria Montessori and Sofia Cavalletti, it explains how to hand on the faith at different stages of a child’s development. Every Catholic teacher should read and apply it.”
— TRACEY ROWLAND, University of Notre Dame, Australia

“Rooted in the Church’s sacramental traditions, informed by classical virtue theory, and drawing upon the best of modern developmental psychology, Gerard O’Shea’s work is a gem. I heartily recommend this practical, credible, orthodox, organized, and hopeful guide to educating our children in the faith.”
— RYAN N. S. TOPPING, Newman Theological College, Edmonton

“This masterful work is a much needed addition to the literature of Catholic religious education. It offers an integrated vision, bringing together anthropology, curriculum guidance, questions of school ethos and teacher formation, analyses of research findings in children’s learning—all grounded in a coherent and persuasive account of the aims and nature of Catholic education.”
— PETROC WILLEY, Franciscan University of Steubenville

“Educating in Christ has come out of the substantial educational and research experience of the author. It offers guidance to parents and teachers on all of the significant areas of religious education: Scripture, Sacraments, moral formation, doctrine, and prayer.”
— KEVIN WATSON, Acting Dean of Education, Sydney, University of Notre Dame, Australia

“Gerard O’Shea’s new book is an insightful and eminently useful guide for Catholic school teachers, catechists, and home-schooling parents. It provides not only insights into child development and its relationship to religious instruction, but offers practical, easy-to-follow lessons and applications for the teacher—a wonderful contribution to Catholic education.”
— MICHAEL MARTIN, author of The Incarnation of the Poetic Word

“Gerard O’Shea has written an extraordinary book that will serve catechists well in these challenging times. In language both insightful and accessible, Educating in Christ engages the question of how today’s religious education can lead people into communion with God. O’Shea answers by bringing the movement towards God in religious education into harmony with a reverence for the capacities and potentialities of those we teach.”
— JAMES PAULEY, Franciscan University of Steubenville

You can order the book here.

Two Books for Children — One New and One Classic Reprint

M. Cristina Borges. Of Bells and Cells. Illustrated by Michaela Harrison. N.p.: St. Bonosa Books, 2014. 44 pp., paper. List: $13.50. Purchase at Amazon.com.

Maria Montessori. The Mass Explained to Children. [Unaltered reprint of the original publication from Sheed & Ward, 1933.] Foreword by Rev. Matthew A. Delaney. Kettering, OH: Angelico Press, 2015. i + 88 pp., paper. $9.95. Purchase at Amazon.com.

As parents know, the work of educating children in the Faith starts at the very beginning and never really ends. It might end formally when they leave for college or move out of the home, but that's still a good 17 to 20 years' worth of education. Those crucial years should be marked by exposure to good (as in: beautiful and reverent) liturgy, an introduction to orthodox theology, and an initiation into traditional spirituality. What I've seen in homeschooling families is that formation in the faith is happening more or less all the time, and this is a large part of the reason why the boys and girls know their faith, love it, practice it, and run circles around their peers. You simply can't put students with an otherwise secular mentality in a religion class for an hour a week and expect them to get anything out of it.

But parents, like all educators, need good resources to lean on. We can't be making everything up as we go along. After decades of relative drought, it is heartening to be witnessing a downpour of solid, traditionally Catholic books being published for children. Some of these have already been reviewed here at NLM (see here, here, and here). Recently I received two more that I can highly recommend to our readers.

The first is M. Cristina Borges' Of Bells and Cells. This book endeavors to present vocational discernment, religious life, and priesthood to small children in a way that they will understand, but without cutting corners, dumbing down the truth, or lessening the radical nature of the calling. Indeed, her strategy seems to be very much that of Pope Benedict XVI, namely, to present the reality in all its demanding grandeur precisely because this is when we can see most clearly how wonderful a gift it is, how worthy of Our Lord, and how appropriate to His holy Church. I do not know exactly which sources Borges is drawing upon, but her theology of vocation is both traditional and profound, yet clearly and simply expressed. She emphasizes the universal call to holiness while underlining the unique conformity to Christ present in religious vows and the priestly character.

Borges devotes several fine pages to the three evangelical counsels, which she explains with admirable simplicity but without the slightest hint of that wishy-washy embarrassment so typical of modern discussions of poverty, chastity, and obedience. In this book, the vows are presented as the ways in which men and women make a total gift of themselves to the Lord, rely completely on Him, surrender all to Him, and emulate, as perfectly as they can, His life and virtues. (Indeed, I cannot help thinking that this children's book would make a better introduction to the subject than many highschool and college texts out there.) I also appreciated her entering into how religious life is structured, its daily round, the steps of entering and making vows, the taking of a new name, the rationale behind wearing the habit (some of the best pages of the book!), the differences between religious orders, and the active and contemplative lives.

The portion of the book dedicated to the priesthood is equally luminous and inspiring. Once again, the fact that the author is willing to explain things like the difference between a secular/diocesan priest and a religious priest, why the clergy wear black (and, in particular, the cassock), how the priest is made "another Christ" through ordination such that he can then offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and forgive sins, sets this book in a class by itself.

An appendix contains brief accounts of the Benedictines, Carmelites, Carthusians, Conceptionists, Dominicans, Franciscans, Poor Clares, Missionaries of Charity, Redemptorists, Little Sisters of the Poor, and Jesuits, to give children some basic information about their founders, most famous saints, and characteristics. This is an especially nice touch, because it helps children to start thinking about how God has provided many different "realizations" of the Gospel and raised up many different kinds of saints who are all living out the baptismal vocation of holiness.

Turning to the reprint of a 1933 classic, The Mass Explained to Children, I doubt that Maria Montessori needs an introduction to readers here. This book saw many printings in the days before the auto-demolition of the Church, and we owe Angelico Press a debt of gratitude for reprinting it as a handsome and affordable paperback, now that so many in the Church are worshiping once again in the classical Roman Rite, for which Montessori obviously wrote this and all her other books on the liturgy. In its pages we find Montessori's remarkable gift for explaining objects, movements, texts, and other signs to children in a way they can relate to, bolstered by her conviction that children have a capacity for wonder, symbolism, and sacred action that most adult educators leave entirely untapped.

Montessori explains in her Preface that this book is not meant to be used at Mass, but before Mass, to help prepare children to understand what they will be seeing and hearing and doing. It serves that catechetical purpose admirably. It strikes me as an ideal religion text for somewhere in the grammar school years, depending on the aptitude of a given child. Again, I have placed a few photos below to give a better sense of it.

(Attention Montessori teachers and admirers: I've been wondering for a long time if anyone has developed a "Catechesis of the Good Shepherd" approach that fully comports with the traditional Latin Mass for which Maria Montessori originally designed her catechetical materials and approaches. If anyone has any information on this matter, I'd be grateful if you would write it into the comments below, or send me an email.)

Pages from Cristina Borges, Of Bells and Cells

Pages from Maria Montessori, The Mass Explained to Children

Look at the text: it's amazing how far we have fallen away from the sense of reverence!

Written in 1933, this deep reverence for the priesthood became almost unknown after the Council.

Note how Montessori lovingly explains the details rather than demanding their simplification.

The holding together of the fingers is connected with the awesome mystery on the altar.