Showing posts with label Latin Mass. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Latin Mass. Show all posts

Sunday, 27 March 2011

Missa Cantata in York Minster

I was one of the priests "in choro" at the Missa Cantata in York Minster yesterday (March 26th). There is a report on the Leeds LMS bog The Mass was celebrated in honour of "The Pearl of York" - St. Margaret Clitherow. She is one of my favourite saints, and is a special saint for the priesthood and, as we were reminded by the excellent homily, the patron saint of the mothers of priests. It is always moving to hear the sentence passed on St. Margaret. Her death was horrifying and terribly undignified. Apart from the actual method of execution, her womanhood was dreadfully abused and denigrated. She remains one of the chief inspirations of my priestly life. Many thanks to the LMS, the Dean of York and the wonderful choir.

There is an excellent article about St. Margaret on this blog. Please continue to pray for priests.

Tuesday, 28 April 2009

Without Veil


The recent Ushaw conference on the celebration of the 1962 Latin Rite set me off thinking again about veils. Some years ago - before I was even interested in the 1962 Rite - I became convinced that I should use the chalice veil for Mass, and veil the tabernacle. At the time I couldn't have put this conviction into words; it was almost a gut reaction. Thinking back on it, I remember that part of the background to this was my disappointment over some modern churches. Some of them are almost clinical in their architecture and decoration. I am thinking of one in particular which seems to be all metal, corners and hard surfaces. One of the thoughts that occurred to me at the time is that when a few insistent voices are being raised about the possibility of women priests and the need for greater recognition of the place of women in the Church (how could we not notice them? Where would our daily Mass attendance be without them?) Bishops, Apostolic Vicars and architects are making our church buildings look even more masculine. There's no sense in it!
But it's not only that; there is something missing in a church or liturgy without veils, fabrics and, or, curtains. I know that in some churches even chasubles are left in the sacristy press (unless the Bishop comes!).
Why does everything have to be hard, sharp and bland in so many modern churches? I have often puzzled over this. Has it something to do with a desire to distance ourselves from the exuberance, or even triumphalism, of the past? Why is colour no longer thought tasteful? Why did ornament disappear? What strange authority decided that "noble simplicity" meant colourless? I know about architecture's obsession with light. I can appreciate a well-lit building, and there's nothing so atmospheric as a church interior dressed in daylight. But why do we have to be so penny-pinching and -well, bland?
Back to the veil. At the offertory of the Tridentine Solemn High Mass, the Sub-Deacon takes the veiled chalice and paten to the celebrant using a humeral veil. After the host has been placed on the corporal, the Sub-deacon takes the paten from the Deacon and holds it beneath the humeral veil whilst standing behind the Deacon and the Celebrant. Why does he do this? When I saw it, I instinctively connected it with the Orthodox use of veils and the "great veil" itself - the Iconostasis. There is something in this, but we also need to remember that not too long ago, the chalice, paten and other Eucharistic vessels were considered "sacred" because of what they held. These things were not to be touched by anyone and everyone (as it seems there are today in most places). It is interesting that in some places in the Western Church there is a return to reverence for holy things, and not just because of the celebration of the Old Rite. The fact is that some people in the Catholic Church are "thirsty" for the sacred and they are beginning to show reverence wherever they think it is appropriate. This may be part of the reason for the growing interest in the Old Rite.
Of course, the veiling is not just about the sacredness of the vessels themselves. Looking at the antiquity of the Byzantine Rite it seems obvious that the practice of veiling in order to reveal something of the "mystery" began in the earliest years of Christianity. Perhaps something was adapted from pagan practices, but we can never forget the ceremony and ornaments of the Jerusalem Temple and, before that, the Tabernacle in the desert. Without doubt, the early Liturgy borrowed elements from the Jewish practices, and these should not be despised today when our increasingly secular and pagan world is dying for lack of the sacred.
Why should it be thought that everything in the Liturgy has to be seen and heard? In recent years the Holy See has reminded us of the need for silence in the Liturgy. Not only that, but the modern Rite is too "wordy" whereas its ceremony leaves much to be desired. It is as though we have finally succumbed to the intellectualism of the Enlightenment and forgotten the importance of gesture and ritual. it seems almost laughable that there has been an attempt to introduce dance into the Liturgy whilst, at the same time, the "dance" of the Solemn High Mass has been removed.
Veiling says something about the importance of not seeing. In the Old Rite, the vestments themselves act as veils because the priest or bishop has his back to the people because he is eastwards-facing. Some things are hidden from sight. This is obviously an early development and is still continued in the Orthodox Liturgy. It became clear to me whilst looking at the actions of the Solemn High Mass that the Roman Rite contained its own "iconastasis". Not only are certain things hidden from sight, but some things are not heard. Does this mean that people in the pews are deprived? From what I have seen recently - and that includes hearing the opinions of people who have attended the Old Rite Liturgy - any deprivation they suffer is because of the way the Ordinary Rite is sometimes celebrated, and because so many in our churches do not know how to use silence.
There are so many other things to say, but I will leave the matter here for now. I would just like to say again that Western Christians have much to learn form their brothers and sisters in the "East", and perhaps, looking at the Old Rite, we have much to learn from what has gone before. It is surely part of the Holy Father's intention in the Moto Proprio that we should be open to these things.

Saturday, 25 April 2009

Learning from the Past


I came home from the Ushaw conference last Thursday and I am still recovering. Because most of us priests there were celebrating the Extraordinary Rite we had to be up early to say Mass. I was booked for 6.30 am and so (because everything is moving slower for me these days) I had to be out of bed by 5.15 at the latest.
I am still thinking about some things I heard and saw on the conference, and there is one area in particular that I find fascinating because it links up with the Orthodox liturgy and with the Church of antiquity. This is what I could call "veiling". I am thinking of the Great Entrance in the Orthodox Liturgy, the use of the humeral veil in the 1962 Solemn High Mass and the tradition we have (or had) in the Catholic Church of veiling tabernacles and covering the sacred vessels before and after Mass. There is something here to examine and think about because it speaks of mystery in relation to the Eucharist. many Catholics, and some Christians of other denominations seem to have an instinct for the sacred. This leads to comments about the vernacular Ordinary Rite lacking "mystery" and to the adoption - especially in non-Catholic communities-of the kind of ritual that would have been unthinkable a hundred years ago.
More later.

Thursday, 4 December 2008

The Title

"Stella Maris" (Star of the Sea) is my favourite Marian title. The Catholic Church - in fact all Christians - are in the midst of a storm. The Mother of Christ is given to us as a special guiding light to help us steer through the darkness.
I don't mean to sound too negative. These are challenging days and there is much to be joyful about. I just recently learned how to celebrate the old Latin Rite (1962 Missal). After 33 years it came as both a shock to the system and a revelation. It has been difficult to put into words.

I was once a rigid opponent of the Tridentine Rite and thought those who wanted it were a bit "strange". I never thought I would one day celebrate it, and I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to do so. The truth is I find the celebration of the 1962 Latin Rite very moving, and I am still trying to understand why. It is not just me; some of those who have started attending also say it is a moving experience. My server is a young married man who became a Catholic only six years ago and who had no experience or knowledge of Latin prayers or any other Liturgy than the ordinary form. His young wife comes to the Mass and she is as devoted as her husband to the Latin Rite. I am still on a learning curve. Watch this space.