Category — Uncategorized

from the National Catholic Register, EWTN News

A Heart on Fire: Catholic Witness and the Next America is an extended essay that will serve as foreword to new addition of his 2008 book Render Unto Caesar.

A new e-book by Archbishop Charles Chaput of Philadelphia examines the role of religious faith in American public life and contemporary pressures on religious liberty.

“Our national leadership in 2012 seems deaf to matters of religious freedom abroad and unreceptive, or frankly hostile, to religious engagement in public affairs here at home,” Archbishop Chaput writes in A Heart on Fire: Catholic Witness and the Next America.

The book was released March 27 through the Random House publishing division Doubleday, the Archdiocese of Philadelphia reported.

The book is an extended essay that contends that a new and authentically Catholic activism is urgent “as the mistakes and ambiguities of the past half century of American Catholic experience come to harvest.”

Some of these mistakes came because American Catholics “really wanted to fit in and wanted to kind of minimize the teachings of the Church that might be in conflict with the broader culture,” Archbishop Chaput said on the March 23 broadcast of The Dom Giordano Program on CBS Radio Philadelphia.

“I think that effort to fit in kept us quiet, and it fully undermined even Catholics’ belief and knowledge. It also compromised our ability to speak clearly about the truth.”

The new book is “very small” and will serve as a new forward to his 2008 book Render Unto Caesar, a new edition of which will be released this summer.

The book was drafted in the fall of 2011. The Philadelphia Archdiocese said the book is “even timelier now” in light of the controversy over the Health and Human Services mandate requiring almost all private health-care plans to cover sterilization and contraception, including abortion-causing drugs.

Archbishop Chaput has criticized the mandate as “coercive and deeply troubling for the rights of conscience.”

The archbishop served on the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom from 2003 to 2007. Besides Render Unto Caesar, he is also the author of Living the Catholic Faith: Rediscovering the Basics.

Thanks to the graciousness of Fr. Jason Kulczynski, this year’s LLA Annual Solemn High Mass will be held at St. Philomena Roman Catholic Church, the National Center of the Archconfraternity of St. Philomena, located at 41 E. Baltimore Avenue, Lansdowne, Pa. The Mass will be on Saturday, June 30, at 7:00 p.m., and will fulfill our Sunday obligation. For more information about St. Philomena, please check www.stphilomenapa.org.

We hope to see you there.

I wanted to let the LLA Local Chapter know about a Mission that will be held at Holy Saviour Parish in Norristown, Pa.

http://www.holysaviour.com/

There will be a parish Mission on March 12th, 13th, and 14th, with the Mission preacher Canon Matthew Talarico of the Institute of Christ the King. There are more details on the Holy Saviour website. If you click the Weekly Bulletin, you will see all pertinent information.

There will be Mass in the Extraordinary Form at 9 a.m. on the days of the mission. I hope the members find this information of value.

Sincerely,

Claire Cavoto, Norristown Pa.

Lenten Ember Day First Friday TLM, March 2nd, A.D. 2012 will be offered by Fr. Gerald Carey, Pastor of St. Paul Parish, at the Rectory Chapel of St. Albert The Great Parish, 212 Welsh Road, Huntingdon Valley, PA 19006 (T) 215-947-3500 at 7 p.m., preceded by Confessions at 6:30 p.m.

Lenten Ember Day First Saturday TLM, March 3rd, A.D. 2012 will be offered by Fr. Dominick Finn, O.S.F.S., at 9:15 a.m. preceded by confessions at 8:45 a.m., also at the Rectory Chapel of St. Albert The Great Parish. (We hope to resume First Sat TLM’s at 9 a.m., pending changes to the future schedule of Fr. Finn.)

Thank you for publicizing these Lenten Ember Day First Friday and First Saturday TLM’s.

Mark Matthews,
Advisory Council

Just a quick note before the weekend about this story today on Chiesa: The ancient rite reappears in Lourdes.

The story relates to the appointment of Mgr. Brouwet to the French diocese of Lourdes:

Following the “personal” appointment of Bishop Francis Moraglia as patriarch of Venice, Benedict XVI has hit a similar shot with the Church of France.

He did so last Saturday, February 11, the feast of the Blessed Virgin of Lourdes, when he appointed the new bishop of the diocese in which the famous Marian shrine stands, that of Tarbes and Lourdes. Pope Joseph Ratzinger has called to this post Nicolas Brouwet, who will turn 50 next August 31, since April of 2008 the auxiliary bishop of Nanterre, the diocese in which he was born and was ordained a priest in 1992.

The story continues:

The choice of Brouwet, like that of Moraglia, did not go through the scrutiny of the cardinals and bishops of the relevant congregation in one of their regular Thursday meetings. Both will take possession of their respective dioceses on March 25, the feast of the Annunciation.

Bishop Brouwet, however, although he is young, is recognized as having a liturgical sensibility that is particularly faithful to tradition. Last December 25, he celebrated Christmas Mass in the extraordinary form of the Roman rite, according to the motu proprio “Summorum Pontificum.” He has also participated in the traditionalist pilgrimages from Paris to Chartres on Pentecost. His stance on moral issues is also in keeping with tradition.

This does not mean that Brouwet is a traditionalist tout court; it is enough to see his official photos in clerical dress to understand this. He belongs instead to that generation of young priests who, like pope Ratzinger, consider the traditionalist world – very lively in France even in its non-Lefebvrist component – more as a resource than as a problem, unlike the progressive old guard of the episcopate, less and less influential…

Lourdes is not a cardinal diocese, but with its famous Marian shrine it is like the spiritual heart of France. It is there, in fact, that the plenary assembly of French bishops regularly meets. Not to mention the international dimension of the diocese. Faithful, seminarians, priests, bishops and cardinals from around the world arrive there. Some problems of an administrative nature that have been seen recently in the diocese have been monitored with special attention by the Holy See as well.

For all these reasons, it is even more significant that Benedict XVI has entrusted the diocese of Lourdes to a young bishop with well-defined characteristics like Brouwet.

Read the entire story on Chiesa.

I realize that the title of this particular talk may seem to be a bit on the soft and fluffy side, given our encounters up to this point. However, my words are intentional. In this talk, I want to examine the liturgy from a pastoral and practical standpoint. We will explore briefly the questions I posed in my previous talk: the who, what, where, how of the Mass, if you will; we will look at the true nature of ministry, a nuanced understanding of pastoral ministry, and we will touch on two of the more popular phrases in liturgy today: the hermeneutic of continuity and mutual enrichment.

I. Orientation of the Liturgy

When one uses the word “orientation” in terms of the Mass, most people’s minds immediately jump to images of a priest “with his back to the people,” or “facing the same direction,” or “everyone facing east.” Books like Cardinal Ratzinger’s Spirit of the Liturgy and Michael Lang’s Turning Towards the Lord have made compelling arguments for this type of liturgical orientation from historical, theological, and spiritual points of view. I do not intend to repeat everything that they have said or written.

Instead, I want to focus on a more basic aspect of liturgical orientation, namely the focal point of liturgical worship. In the postmodern age, liturgical worship is often relegated to being thought of as a “communal act” that focuses on, emphasizes, and even centers around the gathering of the congregation. Songs like “Gather us in,” “We are the Church,” etc., have solidified this in the minds of so many Catholics. We have lost touch with the true purpose for the sacred liturgy, which is worship of God, and of God alone.

It seems that I find myself going off on a diatribe with my own parishioners on a fairly regular basis, trying to make them understand the reason we celebrate Mass, and why it is important. And I say the same thing over and over again: There is nothing more sublime or profound than the sacred action in which we worship the one God, living and true. I repeat: There is nothing more sublime or profound than the sacred action in which we worship the one God, living and true. All our efforts, and the disposition of our minds and hearts must be singularly focused on this reality. The Mass is for God, not for us.

This is not a popular sentence. But allow me to explain. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, insofar as it is the re-presentation of the unbloody sacrifice of Christ on Calvary for the salvation of the world, makes real for us time and time again the salvation into which we have been baptized, and in which we share as members of the Christian Faithful. The Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist, made present in the Mass, is—like all Sacraments—for the sanctification and edification of the People of God. But at its essence, the Mass remains our act of worshipping God—the new sacrifice of the Temple, the spotless lamb slain by the priest in the Holy of Holies for the expiation of sin—an offering to God, that He might be pleased with His people. It is how we worship! Plain and simple!

Yet, it is easy to see how this is often glossed over, diminished, or even outrightly rejected in favor of a more protestantized, post-modern, community-centered understanding that strips from the Mass any sense of worship aimed at the Divine, and leaves it a hollowed-out shell of a gathering that celebrates human beings and their relationship with God (which is always perfect—have you ever noticed that?!). This lack of orientation is what I’m speaking of.
Now, so as not to sound one-sided, there is a “we” aspect to the Mass. Msgr. Guido Marini, in addressing Adoratio 2011, the First International Conference on Eucharistic Adoration held in Rome this past June, speaks of the necessary relationality of the Mass.

He states:
We are recalled to some of the typical and indispensable dimensions of the liturgy. I refer, first, to the dimension of catholicity, which has been constitutive of the Church since the beginning. In that catholicity, unity and variety come together in harmony so as to form a substantially united reality, despite the legitimate diversity of forms. And then there is the dimension of historical continuity, in virtue of which the auspicious development appears to be that of a living organism that does not renounce its past, progressing through the present and oriented toward the future. And, again, there is the dimension of participation in the liturgy of Heaven, for which it has been appropriate to speak of the liturgy of the Church as that of human and spiritual space in which Heaven comes down to earth. Consider, only for example, the passage of the first Eucharistic Prayer, in which we ask: “…grant that this offering, by the hands of your holy Angel, may be taken to the altar of Heaven…”[1]
And, finally, there is the dimension of non-arbitrariness, which avoids the subjectivity of the individual or of the group: that which instead appertains to all as a received gift, to be guarded and transmitted. The liturgy is not a sort of entertainment, where everyone can feel right away to add and subtract according to his own taste in order to satisfy more or less his own happy creativity. The liturgy is not a party in which must always be found something new to excite the interests of the participants. The liturgy is the celebration of the Mystery of Christ, given to the Church, in which we are called always to enter with great intensity, especially in virtue of the providential and always-new repetition of the rite.
To enter into the “we” of the Church from the Eucharist means also being transformed in the logic of that catholicity that is love, or the opening of the heart, according to the measure of the Heart of Christ: it embraces all, it bends its own selfishness to the demands of true love, and it is disposed to give its life without reservation. The Eucharist is the true source of love of the Church, and it is in the heart of everyone. From the Eucharist the Church takes shape daily in the love that is the evangelical style to which we are all called.

And so, our whole mentality of how we approach the Mass and the Eucharist must be changed. Our orientation must become one not of self-centeredness, but of a true interior turning towards the Lord.

II. Liturgical Ministry

Having a better understanding of the nature of the liturgical act, and the proper end to which it is directed, we can now look at how we function within the sacred action. And so I pose the question: what is a minister? The word “minister” comes from the Latin ministrare, which means to serve. Minister, in Latin, is a servant. And so, to understand properly the role of a minister, we must accept that the relationship between the liturgy and the minister is one of subservience, of stewardship. The servant does not seek to control his master, to subdue him, to make him bend to his own will. The good and faithful servant is one who derives pleasure from being humble and obedient. And the reward of the good and faithful servant is the trust and admiration of the master, which leads ultimately to more freedom.
As ministers of the sacred liturgy, we are first and foremost servants of the liturgy, servants of the Church. Even the word liturgy denotes this relationship. Its roots in the Greek are commonly said to mean “the work of the people”—this was, and remains, a very common line spewed by progressive pundits to justify the great liberties they take with the Mass. However, liturgy comes from two Greek words, “leos” meaning people or the public, and “ourgia”, which means service. Liturgy is not the work of the people, but the service of the people. Understood in this context, one can see how this dovetails with my previous discussion on antinomian attitudes in the liturgy.
As ministers of the sacred liturgy, we are ultimately servants who ought never presume to impose our own styles, attitudes, ideologies, etc., on the liturgy. Our mission is not to create liturgy, but to be formed by the liturgy. As stewards, our mission is to present faithfully to the People of God the liturgy as given to us by the Church for our edification and sanctification. This can only be done in a spirit of true and humble service.
And what is our reward for being good and faithful servants? Well, for starters, it should go without saying that adherence to the Church and faithfulness to her commands pleases God. And, as importantly, it serves to diminish the sin of Pride in our hearts. Fidelity and humility in ministry are at the heart of the liturgy. If we look to the saints, we can see so many who grew in holiness simply by putting the Church before their own needs and desires. St. Thérese writes beautifully of her love of working in the sacristy, polishing the sacred vessels and laying out the altar linens and vestments, as if there were no place she would rather have been. While it may seem a bit excessive to some, her love is rooted in being a true, humble servant. She understood so well the profound nature of the sacred liturgy, and, like the woman suffering from a hemorrhage, wanted merely to touch the hem of Christ’s garment, to derive so much fulfillment from the simplest and humblest of actions. This is an image that should remain with all of us in how we approach the sacred liturgy as true ministers.

III. To be Pastoral

Without a doubt, the single-most abused and misused term in the post-Conciliar ecclesiastical vocabulary is the word “pastoral.” For close to fifty years now, this word has been synonymous with an attitude that it is acceptable to break any and every rule, guideline, and norm, at any and every level, in the name of making someone’s life easier. From my own experience as a canon lawyer, I constantly receive criticism from superiors when I issue a negative sentence in a case of matrimonial nullity. The reason is always the same: it’s not pastoral not to give people what they want. Of course, my response is that I have no control over whether or not a person has validly contracted marriage, and my obligation is to the truth, not to avoiding the truth in the interest of letting people “get on with their lives.” As you might imagine, this has branded me as a horrible, un-pastoral, hard-line conservative who doesn’t care about people. Go figure!
The word pastoral obviously is an adjective that denotes something being “of or like a shepherd.” At least that was its original meaning. And I am here to declare that it is high-time this word be rescued from its antinomian captors and returned to its most basic meaning. To give a new definition of pastoral, I borrow an idea from Jason Pennington, who originally wrote the essay “The Pastoral Musician: A True Shepherd or a Thief at the Gate?”. It was published on December 29, 2005 on the blog “Christus Vincit.”
While Pennington directs all of his remarks toward the concept of a pastoral musician, I borrow his basic paradigm in the hopes of expanding on it and applying in a way that we might rehabilitate this poor, pitiful word. Pennington writes:
The immediate and simplest answer to [the question of what it means to be pastoral is]: to act like a shepherd, to shepherd the flock. The Western tradition informs our perception of “shepherding.” The Roman poet Virgil describes in vivid imagery the pastoral life in the Eclogues. In fact, literature through the ages, both religious and secular, offers descriptions of the pastoral. The pastoral life is gentle and calm. It is peaceful and serene. Lambs frolic as the shepherd plays his pipe beneath a sprawling shade tree.
And so, an analogy of the 23rd Psalm ensues. Let’s look at how it lines up.

The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
The Lord is ultimately in charge. He is the Good Shepherd, the true pastor. And he attends to all my needs. To be pastoral means to tend to the needs of the flock, to ensure that receive what is best for them. Notice that there is no mention of what the flock desires. The true pastor knows what is needed. He does not concern himself with what is wanted.

In verdant pastures he gives me repose. Near restful waters he leads me. He refreshes my soul.
The pastoral minister creates an atmosphere of peace and fulfillment. He does not overburden the flock, but seeks to rejuvenate their spirits—again, with what they need, not what they want.

Though I should walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are at my side. Your rod and your staff give me courage.
Here we come to the heart of the matter. The relationship between shepherd and flock is not all sunshine and lollipops! There’s the rod and the staff. Pennington writes the following:
The shepherd’s rod and staff have two purposes. They are used by the shepherd as weapons to keep harm from his flock. They also are used to keep the sheep in line. The shepherd’s staff after all has a crooked end to restrain a sheep that has gone the wrong way. Sure, the rod and staff give comfort in protection from harm, but they also dispense discipline. The shepherd gives the sheep what they want, but more importantly, he gives them what they need, like it or not. He leads the flock to good grazing land, but he also has to keep them together and on track. If all they received from the shepherd is what they wanted, the flock would splinter and wander in all directions: All we like sheep.

The flock wants—and demands—to be pampered, to have everything spoon-fed to them. But that is not being pastoral. If anything, it is doing them no favors.

One of my canon law professors in Rome explained the term “pastoral” in the following way: “The true pastoral tool lies in observing the norm, not ignoring it.” Our obligation at all times is to uphold the rights of everyone. True Christian justice demands that we uphold the rights of the Christian Faithful. Whenever a rule is broken in order to be “pastoral” to someone, then the rights of another are violated. If I alter the words of consecration at Mass because it would be pastoral for the children in the pews, then I am ultimately violating their rights to receive the Sacraments and liturgy of the Church as intended by the Church. As pastoral ministers, we cannot uphold the rights of the Christian faithful through the breaking of rules, the ignoring of norms, or skirting issues. True, people may not appreciate what we are doing; they will think that we’re being hard or even arbitrary. But, again, a pastoral minister is ultimately just what the words describe: a shepherding servant.

IV. Breaking Free of the 1970s

Over the past few years, new buzz-words and phrases have appeared in our vocabulary. We speak of a “reform of the reform,” a “new liturgical movement,” a “hermeneutic of continuity,” and the “mutual enrichment” of the two forms of the Roman Rite. These phrases give vigor to young conservative pundits, and strike fear and frustration into the hearts of old “progressives,” no doubt! But we must always be careful in how we approach them.
We are ministers of the liturgy in an age where we run the risk of inflicting upon the liturgy the same careless and arbitrary abuses that it has endured from “progressive” liturgists. Care must be taken to ensure that everything we do in the liturgy is about the liturgy itself, and not about our own ideologies or opinions. I could list hundreds of changes I’d love to make to my celebration of the Mass in the name of “continuity” or “mutual enrichment.” Yet, I am bound by a far greater loyalty to the Church than I am to my personal preferences. The same must be true for all ministers of the liturgy.
So, how do we reconcile the two paths: mutual enrichment and fidelity to the liturgical books? First of all, clear lines must be drawn. We have an obligation at all times to be faithful to the liturgical books as they are given to us by the Church. To that end, modifying the Ordinary Form of the Roman Rite to bring it into closer conformity with the Extraordinary Form (or vice versa) is something which ought only to happen where the liturgical books and documents themselves make explicit allowance for innovation, or where the rubrics and norms are tacit, and therefore lend themselves to some enrichment.
“Mutual enrichment” of the two Roman Rites is something that is obviously desired by our Holy Father, as he stated in his cover letter to bishops upon the promulgation of his motu proprio “Summorum Pontificum.” And what follows logically is a discussion of a “hermeneutic of continuity”—an emphasis on continuity between prior and current rites, as opposed to the “hermeneutic of rupture” that seems to have the predominant focus of punditry over the past 40 years. The great irony is that this is a great shift in rhetoric from 40 years ago. When the Novus Ordo Missae was first introduced, it was given credibility by liturgists touting its conformity to sound, historical liturgical principles, saying that this was actually a restoration of a much, much older form of worship. And the nay-sayers saying that it was a break with tradition were the ones who turned out to be followers of Archbishop Lefebvre and the like. How times have changed!
Overall, there is a great deal of room for seeking to understand all of these principles better. What I’ve presented here is but the tip of the iceberg. There is always room for more discussion, more exploration. And the examples that can be given are too numerous to begin to list.

V. Conclusion

In conclusion, I’d like to reflect briefly on the bigger picture. Everything that I’ve discussed in this talk, and in my previous address, has been aimed at a group of dedicated individuals who serve the Church and their community in a very specific way through the sacred liturgy. Our mission, however, ought not be one of self-service. Rather, we’ve explored principles today that should be at the forefront of every Catholic’s consciousness: the true orientation of the liturgy, the true nature of being pastoral, the divine underpinnings of authority, the necessity of true fidelity, etc.
As ministers of the sacred liturgy, it is incumbent upon us to ensure that those whom we serve are better catechized, and more properly disposed to receiving the richness that the Roman Rite has to offer. So often, we gloss over the Roman Rite and become entranced by the bells and smoke and chants of other rites, and we seek to integrate them (unnecessarily and illicitly) into our own rites as a way of “dressing them up.” But the Roman Rite is whole and complete. And I would say that we have a moral obligation to explore our patrimony, to seek to uncover the buried treasures of our own rites, and to restore them within the parameters of our current liturgical paradigms, to the glory of God and the edification of His Holy Church. This is how we ultimately may be viewed by our Master as being good and faithful servants, stewards, and ministers of that which the Church has entrusted to our care.

The Mass was celebrated by Fr. Michael Barone of the archdiocese of Newark, New Jersey. Fr. Barone has been mentioned on NLM before, most recently within the context of the Catholic Artist’s Society gathering this past autumn.

Traditional Latin Mass at Oratory Prep enlightens

SUMMIT — When students at the Oratory Prep School entered the gymnasium recently for a special Mass, guest celebrant Reverend Michael Barone told them why Latin was used historically in Mass. “This is what distinguished the Catholics from the Protestants in years past. The use of Latin today heightens our sense of mystery and awe for that which is sacred.” The entire Mass was conducted in Latin by the guest celebrant and had an audience of students who are studying Latin.

Fr. Michael further explained, “We aren’t meant to understand all that’s going on in Mass; there’s mystery involved.” He went on to tell the boys in grades seven through twelve, “God won’t compete with electronic devices. Mass is not mere entertainment; it is the Mass of the Ages that endures for all time. You are being asked to preserve the traditions of the church.”

One of the traditions that Fr. Michael asked the boys to observe was to kneel during the consecration. Another tradition observed was to have the congregants kneel for the distribution of Holy Communion.

Junior Cormac Rada of Asbury said the priest’s words were important. “It’s a common misconception that priests have their backs to us at a traditional Latin Mass,” Cormac said. “But it’s a form of adoration: he’s not just officiating…he’s one of us as our representation. He is praying with us to God.”

I have written before, here of the idea that liturgy and culture are linked. Each forms and reflects the other. If this is the case, then the answer to the question of how to reform a culture of ugliness, even a culture of death in any lasting way has its roots in or at least must include firmly at its heart, liturgical reform.

A true Catholic culture is one that not only reflects the liturgy, but through its compelling beauty, is so powerful that it overcomes other cultures and dominates the profane (i.e. the wider culture outside the domain of religious practice). This is the case with the gothic and the baroque. All art, architecture and music during these periods, for example, seemed to be drawing on the forms that were set in the liturgy.

In his book The Spirit of the Liturgy, Pope Benedict XVI says the following: ‘The Enlightenment pushed the Faith into a kind of intellectual and even social ghetto. Contemporary culture turned away from the Faith and trod another path, so that faith took flight in historicism, the copying of the past, or else attempted to compromise, or lost itself resignation and cultural abstinence.’

In other words, by the 19th century and as a result of the Enlightenment, the culture of faith was separated from the wider culture. Catholic culture, as it was manifested at this time, was not a genuine Catholic culture of beauty, but rather an emasculated, paler version. In the area that I know well, art, we see this very clearly. There are some exceptions, but in general the academic art of the 19th century is only a poorly defined shadow of the 17th century baroque from which it is descended. For those who are interested to know more, you might read for example articles here and here or for a fuller account read the book Baroque by John Rupert Martin.

If we accept the premise and this assessment of the culture, then it indicates that in the 19th century there were problems with the liturgy as well as the culture. This would explain why the response to the Enlightenment in this period was not only intellectual, but also liturgical, with the beginnings of a liturgical reform movement. This being so, the question remains as to what it is about the Enlightenment that affected the liturgy?

I read recently Looking Again at the Question of the Liturgy with Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger: the Proceedings of the July 2001 Fontgombault Liturgical Conference, edited by Alcuin Reid. One of the presentations was by Stratford Caldecott, who runs the Thomas More College Centre for Faith and Culture in Oxford. Mr Caldecott argues that the problems lay in the fact that the anthropology – the understanding of the nature of man – had strayed from a full recognition of the tripartite anthropology described by scripture. St Paul for example, talks of body, soul and spirit. There had been tendency argues Caldecott, to equate, or at least insufficiently differentiate between, soul and spirit. (His presentation is online, at the Second Spring website, here. Go to the section on the left that says ‘online reading’ and then click the title of the article: Liturgy and Trinity; Towards a Liturgical Anthropology.)

His description of the ‘spirit’ is most interesting. Equating it with the intellectus of the Western medievals or the nous of the Eastern Church in the tradition of Church Fathers, the spirit is the spiritual receptive knowing power of the human mind. This is the aspect that ‘sees’, so to speak, God and is receptive to grace. While the fathers do sometimes use the word soul interchangeably with a description of the full spiritual dimension of man that includes both spirit and soul (when using the scriptural use of the terms), the distinction of the two in the minds of the medievals is never lost. Occasionally in icons the artist paints a ‘bump’ in the forehead. I was told that this shape drawn in the forehead, between the eyes, is sometimes considered a physical manifestation of the spiritual eye, the nous.

A quote from Josef Pieper’s Leisure the Basis of Culture (p. 11-12) was helpful to me here:

The medievals distinguished between the intellect as ratio and the intellect as intellectus. Ratio is the power of discursive thought, or searching and re-searching refining and concluding, whereas the intellectus refers to the ability of ‘simply looking’ (simplex instuitus) to which the truth presents itself as a landscape presents itself to the eye. The spiritual knowing power of the human mind, as the ancients understood it, is really two things in one: ratio and intellectus: all knowing involved both. The path of discursive reasoning is accompanied and penetrated by the intellectus’ untiring vision, which is not active but passive, or better, receptive – a receptively operating power of the intellect.

Without a full acknowledgement of the tripartite anthropology, suggests Caldecott, a flawed dualism consisting only of body and soul is created and an instability in which one of the aspects tends to dominate the other to the exclusion of God (just as Cartesian dualism was inherently unstable and led in two very different direction: materialism and idealism). According to trinitarian anthropology, the human person is by its very nature other-centred. We love God, and this opens us to the life of the other; we love our neighbour, and this opens us to the love of God. Without fully appreciating the spiritual faculty of the soul we cannot properly understand either marriage (based on the self-giving love of man and woman) or the Mass (the marriage of heaven and earth). Thus the crisis over Humanae Vitae in the 1960s was paralleled by the crisis over reforms in the liturgy because both had the same root — an earlier loss of the sense of the spirit uniting husband and wife in openness to new life on the one hand, and of the spirit uniting priest and laity in one single work of sacrifice on the other. To those who had acquired this mentality, it seemed that the Mass had become an exercise in which the priest did his thing at the altar and the laity waited and watched or prayed their rosary in the pews. This is why why they went to the other extreme of over-stressing “activity” in the Mass, along with human fellowship and social justice, as though these were the only things that were important. Many religious orders went into steep decline as the communitarian aspect of their mission took precedence over the liturgical, the love of neighbour over the love of God. It is the spirit in man that opens us to the “vertical” dimension of grace: without it, both marriage and the liturgy are reduced to activities performed on the horizontal plane, with little or no relationship to heaven.

It strikes me that such a neglect as a result of the Enlightenment should result in a cultural decline as well as a liturgical decline is made all the more understandable when one considers the role of the intellectus, or spirit, in the apprehension of beauty. In the first part of her little essay Beauty, Contemplation and the Virgin Mary, Sister Thomas Mary McBride, OP describes succinctly in just a few paragraphs, the traditional understanding of beauty and how man apprehends it. She draws on the Latin medievals and states that beauty illuminates the intellectus, describing the apprehension of beauty as the ‘gifted perfection of seeing’. Then echoing Caldecott in the connection between intellectus and spirit says: ‘In the light of the above, this writer would suggest that the proper place of beauty is in the spirit.’

An appropriate active participation in the liturgy is one that engages the full person in order to encourage within us the right interior disposition. Any participation in the liturgy that does not engage body, soul and spirit therefore does not engage the full person. Our participation in the liturgy is the primary educator in the Faith at all levels. A true conformity of body, soul and spirit is what is desired. One can see that any participation in which consideration of the spirit is neglected (through a balanced active participation of soul and body) will result in therefore necessarily result in a deficiency in our ability to apprehend beauty, which resides in the spirit. This explains this link between culture and liturgy and how important liturgical reform is in our efforts to create a culture of beauty today.

[The following is an NLM guest article submitted to us by one of our readers after reading our post here, The Family Celebration of the Divine Office, published Dec. 1, 2011.]

Introducing Chant into the Domestic Church

by J. Jacob Tawney

The music proper to the Roman Rite is Gregorian Chant. This point has been repeated by numerous Popes, by the Second Vatican Council, and by liturgical scholars spanning the centuries. There are many reasons for this, of course, but the primary one is that Gregorian Chant grew along side the liturgy, so much so that the two are intrinsically connected. Where there is liturgy, there is chant, and where chant is absent, the liturgy suffers greatly.

The term domestic church appears in the documents of Vatican II. There are some who say that Pope Paul VI coined the term, yet there are early church documents that refer to the family as the domestic church. It appears that this concept has been a part of Catholic tradition since the patristic era. The essence of the domestic church is that the family, and not the geographic parish, is the first “church” we encounter. This is true as a child, but it remains true even into adulthood. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that the home is the first school of Christian life, the place where people learn love, forgiveness, and a life of prayer.

Piecing together these two ideas, it seems that (1) if the music proper to the Catholic Church is chant, and (2) if the domestic church is the first place that we encounter worship, then it follows that Gregorian Chant should find a place within the life of the family. I suggest that there are three ways in which sacred chant can become rooted in the family and thereby serve as a means of formation for both children and parents.

First, while the family has a primary obligation to live out a life in prayer, all prayer finds its source and summit in the sacred liturgy. It is in the sacred liturgy in that the chant of the Church finds its purpose and fulfillment. Parents who attend a parish that employs chant regularly are very fortunate indeed, for these folks will be able to find both a starting point and support for any chant introduction that they bring into the home. It is absolutely essential that we experience chant in the context of the liturgy. For those who are not fortunate enough to have a regular schola or even occasional chant, perhaps parents can find other opportunities in the area.

The second way to bring the music of the Church into the domestic church is through high quality recordings. We live in the age of the internet where albums once obscure are now available at the click of a mouse. Obtaining the chants proper to the Mass is easier than it has ever been. I recommend getting a copy of various settings of the Mass Ordinary (pieces like the Agnus Dei and the Kyrie that are a part of every Mass). Because children are already familiar with their place in the Mass, parents can introduce not only their music but also their meanings quite easily. One need not be a Latin scholar to tell a child, “This is the Lamb of God,” and to remind the child of the vernacular translation. I also recommend getting some pieces that are not familiar and whose translations may not be accessible to everyone. The reason for this is twofold. First, it is not necessary to understand the Latin words in order to appreciate the music. Sometimes it is better just to sit and be absorbed into the glory of the graceful rising and falling of notes. Second, pieces from the Mass Propers (those parts that change form Mass to Mass, such as the Introductory Chant, or Introit) are often more ornate and quite beautiful. In particular, the Communion chants that are part of the Church’s liturgy are often little masterpieces in and of themselves. Finally, I recommend getting copies of the “standards,” chants that are not necessarily a part of the Mass but help form the rich patrimony of the church’s musical tradition. These chants would include the classic Marian hymns (Ave Maria, Salve Regina, etc.) as well as other hymns such as the Te lucis and Tantum ergo.

When purchasing quality recordings, I would begin with the schola out of Oregon that calls themselves Cantores in Ecclesia and is directed by Dean Applegate. They have three albums available. The first is O Lux Beatissima, which is a collection of the Mass Ordinary and many other common Catholic chants. The second is Cantemus Domino, which contains examples of Mass Propers. The third is Inclina Domine which has more Mass parts from both the Ordinary and the Propers. (If you are looking for where to begin, my own personal opinion is with O Lux Beatissima.)

However, we live in an age where many people are posting quality recordings for free online. A quick Google search can usually lead to a plethora of high quality pieces.

The third way in which to bring the chant of the Church into the family is by actually teaching young children these “Catholic classics.” A friend of mine who grew up in Italy often reminisces about the chant that was sung in his humble home. The children all grew up knowing an entire repertoire of Gregorian selections. He also laments the absence of such an environment in our current culture. For my own part, this strikes me as but one of the ways in which we have seen a loss of Catholic identity. This music is our music; it is a part of our heritage. An Italian family would never abandon traditional pasta dishes from their dinner repertoire. Similarly, a Catholic should never abandon his own musical heritage. Despite the fact that most liturgies have, contrary to the recommendation of Vatican II, left Gregorian Chant in the dust of the 1960’s, it remains the traditional music of the Roman rite.

Our own family has taken the idea of domestic church seriously and has brought the Church’s liturgy quite literally in the home in the recitation of the Liturgy of the Hours. The Liturgy of the Hours is a set of prayers that are said at various times throughout the day. Priests are obliged to pray the Divine Office, but the laity are encouraged to do so as well. The purpose of the Hours is to sanctify the entire day by participating in the public worship of the Church. Much like each Mass is a participation in the Heavenly Liturgy, so too is the Liturgy of the Hours. The pope, each bishop, every priest, and even the Angels and Saints are praying each hour along with us. Of course, we are not here equating the Liturgy of the Hours with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, but rather recognizing that the Liturgy of the Hours is an echo of the Liturgy of the Mass. There is a parallel here with the domestic church and the manner in which it is an echo of the broader Church.

We have taken to reciting Compline (or Night Prayer) with the children before bedtime. Compline is well suited for children because it repeats every week. Little ones will memorize virtually the entire week in under year merely by listening. (It takes “big people” much longer, of course!) This all has bearing on the topic of Gregorian Chant because it is traditional to chant the psalms that form the backbone of each hour. This need not be done in Latin, of course, for there are easy plainchant tones that can be learned by even the musically untrained. More to the point, it is common to end the hour with a Marian chant proper to each liturgical season. For instance, in the season of Advent the chant is the Alma Redemptoris Mater. The others include Ave Regina Caelorum (Lent), Regina Caeli (Easter), and the Salve Regina (Ordinary Time). Over the years, my children have been picking up each of these (and the Ave Maria as well). This past Advent we added the last of the collection (Alma Redemptoris Mater), and nothing touched my heart more than when three of my children greeted me at the door about a week later excited to tell me that they had “learned it.” There they stood in front of the fireplace mantel, and they chanted in unison the most angelic melody I have ever heard.

Obtaining quality recordings can go a long way in helping a family to learn the chants that they will integrate into their prayer life. Of course, obtaining the musical scores is helpful as well. The internet is filled with these Gregorian scores. However, for Compline, I recommend Fr. Samuel Weber’s book by the same name published by Ignatius Press. It contains both Latin and English text and music printed in an exquisite setting for the full week of Night Prayer.

Gregorian Chant is the music that is proper to the Church. It seems only right that it should find a place in the home as well; that is but one way in which the domestic church can orient itself to the Universal Church.

From Rorate Caeli:

The Association “Sacra Liturgia” invites to the conference “Beauty in Sacred Art and in the Liturgy,” with the pontifical ceremoniary Mons. Marco Agostini, which will take place in Trent on Saturday, February 11, at 1700, in the great hall of the Major Seminary. The Feininger Choir will present some Gregorian chants. On the following day, Sunday, February 12, the Mass will be celebrated in the Seminary, at 1800.

Regarding this, this was the note of the diocesan press office:

“It is the constant and prioritary concern of our Diocesan Church the effort that the liturgical celebrations be the summit and source of Christian life, with an active participation of the faithful, and convergence of the various ministries.

“The initiative, taken by a diocesan priest, of promoting the celebration of H. Mass according to the ancient rite in the Diocesan Seminary is occasional. Although within the scope of catholicity, the initiative is personal and brings forth some perplexity; precisely for this, the choice of place intends to make clear that those to whom the celebration is destined are those persons capable of understanding it and participating in it, any form of spectacle being excluded.

“Regarding this, it is affirmed that the Council of Trent did not choose a single rite, and that Pope Benedict XVI has supported the one approved by Paul VI, but has consented that also the rite approved by Pope John XXIII, which, with successive modifications, dated from Pope Pius V, may be celebrated, in the presence of specific conditions.

“It is recalled that, also on the occasion of this celebration, as for other events, access to the Seminary church and square is not indiscriminately granted to the public.”

We are often accused of wishing to promote “scandal” by mentioning the shameful shenanigans which seem to be inseparable from the celebration of the “Ordinary Form of the Roman Rite”, the Mass of Paul VI. Yes, we are fully aware that there are a handful of places around the world where it is celebrated “reverently”, according to variable unpublished standards – but other kinds of celebrations have been part and parcel of this Rite from the beginning, and they are in most cases considered quite legitimate. In fact, they are promoted from the highest places, and are the ordinary part of Church life everywhere worldwide.

We bring this up only because, on the very same day on which the above note was published, with “perplexity” for a single celebration in the only rite Trent knew for centuries (and for a millenium before the Council of Trent, in celebrations identical to the Traditional Mass or almost indistinguishable from it), the Archdiocese published as its main event for that same Saturday (Feb. 11) a “Rock Mass” (Messa Rock), with the participation of “Trent metal band ‘High Voltage’”:

Honestly, we are not the ones who cause scandal. The Archdiocesan Curia is, by publicly shaming a priest and faithful who are merely exercizing their (literally) God-given papally-recognized rights, and limiting them – at the very same time they promote a “Metal Mass”.

Shame on the Trent Curia: vergogna!!