If I were Roman Catholic...

No, I am not becoming Roman Catholic.  I’m a traditional Anglican until I die even if that means starting an Anglican parish in my house.

But I do share a lot with traditional Roman Catholics.  And my heart is with them as the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) is being suppressed by LibPope Francis and his . . . minions. 

Knowledgable readers might think I’m exaggerating by saying the TLM is suppressed.  Fair enough.  Let’s look at the Archdiocese of Chicago under Cardinal Blase Cupich (SPIT).  For the sake of “the unity of the church” deplorable trads cannot have their Latin mass on the first Sundays of months, nor during Christmas, the Triduum, Easter Sunday and Pentecost Sunday.  And among other restrictions is the required permission of the bishop.  Yeah, I’m sure Francis fanboy Cupich will be generous in giving permission for Latin masses.  In any case, during the holiest times of the year, traditional Roman Catholics cannot have their Latin Mass in Cupich’s Archdiocese

This from a Cardinal and diocese replete with enormities, such as this service that began with a “Happy Kwanzaa.”

Yes, not all dioceses are not quite that bad.  But increased restrictions on the TLM are the norm as directed by Francis.

If I were a Roman Catholic I would not submit to having decent traditional liturgy taken away from me.  I will not do that as an Anglican either.  If that means going it alone for a brief time, so be it, but I would hope to find clergy and people with the gumption to rebel against rot in the church.  People like this:

On April 12, 1977, Parisian traditionalists got sick of worshipping in the community hall the petty New Church bureaucrats relegated to them for the celebration of their banned Mass. So they did what any decent, God-fearing Catholics should – they processed into the church of St. Nicholas with priests, occupied it, and stayed there. Every living Trad should know by heart the exchange that occurred between the parish clergyman of St. Nicholas du Chardonnet and one of the occupying priests.

‘By what right do you come here?’ asked one of the parish clergy.

‘We come,’ replied Mgr. Ducaud-Bourget… ‘In Nomine Domini.’[1]

When the police were called by the conciliar priests to expel the invaders, the police showed that they knew more about liturgy than the Congregation for Divine Worship does today. The police did nothing because, as they told the Novus Ordo priests about the Trads: “They’re saying Mass and praying, that’s what a church is for!”

They also displayed that they were inhabiting a more Catholic, and less officious France, when a group of progressive clergy went to a police precinct to complain about the takeover. Requesting to speak with the officer in charge they were told he was unavailable, as he was attending Latin Mass at St. Nicholas.

Yes, I do think it is time for rebellion from faithful Roman Catholics.  For the LibPope and most of their leaders have rebelled against their own history and patrimony.  Francis and his tools are trying to tear the church from the Faith handed down to them.

Those who think I’m overwrought and overstating the situation should remind themselves that lex orandi, lex credendi.  Liturgy and faith cannot be separated.  A crap Novus Ordo liturgy leads to watered down crap belief and visa versa.  Defending and insisting on traditional liturgy is defending and insisting on the Faith.

Those faithful Roman Catholics who are so doing have my respect and prayers.

I will not pray for a “President” Biden.

After two months of prayer and deliberation, I have decided I will not pray for a “President” Biden, especially in the context of public worship.  Yes, I can pray for those in authority.  I can pray for enemies as in the Litany.  But I will not be praying for “the President of the United States” as such after January 20^th for four years.

Among the consequences of stealing an election through fraud and other illegality should be that the thief should be regarded as illegitimate by significant numbers and in significant contexts.  That goes double if the thief was aware of the election fraud.  And what appears to be the biggest Freudian Slip in history indicates that Biden knew.  Biden knew, in his own words, about "most extensive & inclusive voter fraud organization in the history of American politics."

So I cannot conscientiously in private or public worship lend legitimacy to a “President” Biden by praying for him as President.  I can certainly pray for those in authority, e. g. for “all Christian Rulers and Magistrates.”  I, of course, can pray for our country.  But I will not join the pretence that Biden will be a legitimate President of the United States by praying for him as such.

Yes, a case can be made for praying for him as POTUS anyway, and I have no problem with those who do (although I will not join them).  An obvious argument is that St. Paul urged praying for the Emperor even when he was a rather nasty man.  The difference here is that the highest secular authority in the United States is not a man, as in the Roman Empire of Paul’s time, but the Constitution.   And the Constitution was run over roughshod to steal the election.  Bypassing state legislatures to tear up election laws to steal the election is a prominent example of that.

The Founding Fathers wisely set up this country to be under the Rule of Law, not the rule of emperors or kings or tyrants.  And as long as the Constitution remains, even if only theoretically, there is no obligation under God to treat an illegitimate President as legitimate.  (Whether it is wise to do as a practical matter is another question.)

So although I respect those who respectfully disagree, I have made my decision.  

Now for those wondering about the rubrics, if I read them accurately, there is no requirement in my jurisdiction to use any prayer that specifically mentions the President of the United States.  There is one exception that I am aware of: the Litany includes a prayer for God “so to rule the heart of thy servant, the President of the United States, that he may above all things seek thine honour and glory.”

So if I make a “mistake” while praying the Litany, let the reader understand.

And after the events of yesterday, I will add that refusing to recognize the legitimacy of a “President” Biden should be non-violent.  The violence perpetrated by some of the protesters yesterday was not only wrong, it was stupid.  With Trump’s speech and with numerous objectors to the Electoral College in Congress, yesterday was well on the way to spotlighting the election fraudsters as the bad guys.  But because of the violent foolishness, the day ended up making Trump and his supporters look like the bad guys and completely distracted from the villainy of the stolen election.  Thus it was not only wrong and harmful, it was stupid and self-defeating as political violence generally is.

And numerous and manifold non-violent ways to oppose the coming fraudulent Biden regime remain.  My refusal to recognize him as President in public and private worship is only one modest example.

The “Beauty of Holiness” or “Popish Baits”?

When I picked up Graham Parry’s Glory, Laud and Honour: The Arts of the Anglican Counter-Reformation, I expected a heavy academic read, which would have been fine as it covers a subject matter of interest to me.  

Was I wrong!  The book begins with Puritan Peter Smart’s furious indictment of John Cosin and Durham Cathedral in 1630:

…your popish baits and allurements of glorious pictures, and Babalonish vesturs, and excessive numbers of wax-candles burning at one tyme…

Ah yes, the candles.  Always the candles.  Smart was unhappy with much else as well, particularly Cosin’s “upstarting, downesquattings, east-turning, crossings and kissings” and more.

I found myself laughing uproariously.  I was reminded of the Low Churchman’s Guide to the Solemn High Mass except that Smart was quite serious.  Thus I soon discovered that Glory, Laud and Honour is not only scholarly and helpful to further study, but is actually a fun read.

And, yes, much of the fun does come from the adversarial relationship between the Puritans and the Laudians along with others who thought the worship of the Lord called for “the beauty of holiness”.  This holy combat was reflected in church architecture and furnishings and often the destruction of the same.  Parry pays not a little attention to Dowsing’s visitations of Cambridge for one thing.  And he notes that much of what we know about church furnishings under the influence of John Cosin, William Laud and cohorts comes from the Puritans’ disapproving documentation of them.

The Puritans (with an exception or two I will note another time) were rather nasty.  Beheading statues was not enough for them.  They eventually beheaded Laud, Lord of Canterbury and Charles, King and Martyr.  But (And now I will show my talent for alienating just about everybody.) the Archbishop and King in part lost their heads by not following Hooker more closely on the subject of ceremonies and images in worship.  

As Parry points out at length, Hooker approved of traditional ceremonial worship “in the bewtie of holiness,” not unlike the later Laudians, but he considered such to be adiaphora, i. e. among matters on which the faithful can and should be able to agree to disagree.  He thought parishes should be allowed discretion on details of ceremonies and ornaments as long as they stick to the Book of Common Prayer.  Further he thought disputes over such matters risk “a kinde of taking of Gods name in vaine to debase religion with such frivolous disputes, a sinne to bestowe time and labor about them.”

But neither the Laudians nor the Puritans were very interested in allowing discretion in matters of worship.  Instead they bestowed a lot of time and labor and venom upon them indeed, greatly contributing to the ugliness between them.  Many on both sides eventually paid with their lives, both on the executioner’s block and in civil war.

Well, I got rather dark there, didn’t I.  But that does not keep me from having a good laugh or two or three at their liturgical combat.  Yes, I am rather warped that way.

There is much more that is both fun and helpful about Glory, Laud and Honour, to which I may return at a later time.

I Like Enemies

One of the strengths of traditional Anglican liturgy is that it recognizes we have enemies, real enemies, and that we need God to defend us from them.  Some enemies are spiritual, namely Satan; some are internal, such as besetting temptations and anxieties; some are, yes, societal, such as the current panic; some are very impersonal, such as viruses and disasters; and, yes, some are people – there are bad people, lots of them, who would do us ill.  We are to love those people; we are not to enable them or grant them success in their evil.

Traditional liturgy reflects all this well as Laudable Practice recognizes.  For example, the Litany prays:

That it may please thee to forgive our enemies, persecutors, and slanderers, and to turn their hearts.

And also later prays:

From our enemies defend us, O Christ

Graciously look upon our afflictions.

Remember Jesus said love our enemies.  He did not say we do not have any.  Just the opposite.

Then there is this week’s collect for the Third Sunday in Lent:

We beseech thee, Almighty God, look upon the hearty desires of thy humble servants, and stretch forth the right hand of thy Majesty, to be our defence against all our enemies; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

A timely prayer, is it not?

Now some moderns and post-moderns and other foolish people are squeamish at the mention of actual enemies.  

I am not among the squeamish.  Instead, it both comforts me and strengthens my backbone that the Book of Common Prayer meets head on the enemies of God and of us.

We beseech thee, Almighty God, look upon the hearty desires of thy humble servants, and stretch forth the right hand of thy Majesty, to be our defence against all our enemies; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

A Good Time for the Litany

The title to this post begs the question: Is there ever a bad time for the Litany? And, yes, I am talking about the traditional Anglican Litany found in the 1662 Book of Common Prayer.

Its attitude of penitence and utter dependence is perfect for Lent.  My parish recites the Litany every time we do Morning or Evening Prayer during Lent.  I like singing it best.

I also like praying the Litany during times of particular difficulty, as I have done privately, and now is surely such a time.  And the traditional Litany covers just about every difficulty imaginable. 

Note that I said the traditional Litany.  Some inferior modern versions do not mention plague among other deficiencies.   Yeah, some of you moderns and post-moderns thought prayers for protection from plague were antiquated.  Well, I hope you don’t get sick.  I also hope you feel foolish and add that to your Lenten penitence.

As part of your penitence, follow the godly admonition of Laudable Practice and pray the traditional Litany:

This is a time when we need to be renewed in our dependence upon God's mercy and grace, petitioning for deliverance, seeking blessing upon our common life, beseeching "mercy upon all men", acknowledging how the disordering of our common life requires repentance.  It is not a time for cut-and-paste liturgical resources hesitant about expressing the extent of our need for God's mercy and provision. A serious time needs a serious liturgy and that liturgy is the Litany. 

It’s St. Matthias Day . . . I think.

Normal people do not know it is St. Matthias Day.

Pious people, such as my humble self, look at a church calendar and know it is St. Matthias Day.

Liturgy geeks, of which I can be after too much wine or incense or Oxford, remember it’s a Leap Year and . . . oh boy, dating St. Matthias Day gets a bit complicated.  My calendar says it’s today, but if you want to get really serious about it, you could argue it’s tomorrow, and argue and…

A reader wrote in to ask why, in the traditional rite, the feast of St Matthias the Apostle is moved from February 24th to the following day every leap year. The answer lies in the very ancient Roman calendar, which is still part of the Church’s liturgy to this day; it is used in the calendars printed at the beginning of the Missal and Breviary, and in the Martyrology, the names of the days are still read out according to the Roman system.

In the Roman calendar, each month has three days which are called the Kalends, Nones and Ides; the first of these three is the first day of each month. In March, May, July and October, the Nones are on the 7th, and the Ides on the 15th; in all other months, they are on the 5th and 13th….

The Romans named the days of each month by counting backwards from these three points. Thus, Julius Caesar was killed on the day which we call March 15, but which they called “the Ides of March”; their name for the 14th was therefore “the day before the Ides of March.” As every Latin students knows, this system becomes difficult to keep track of because the Romans counted inclusively, not exclusively; therefore, the day we call “March 13” was called “three days before the Ides of March”, (not “two days before”), including the day itself, the day before the Ides, and the Ides themselves.

Hold on, it gets better.

When the Julian Calendar was instituted in 46 BC, establishing the regular leap day every four years, the leap day itself was added by counting “the sixth day before the Kalends of March” twice. From this, the Latin term for “leap year” is “annus bisextilis”, meaning “a year in which the sixth day (before the Kalends of March) occurs twice.” This term for leap year is still used in all the Romance languages, as in Italian “anno bisestile”, and was even adopted by the Greeks, (“disekto etos” in the modern language), even though the ancient Greeks had their own very different calendar….

When the feast of St Matthias came into the Roman Rite sometime between the 9th and 11th centuries, it was fixed to this “sixth” day before the kalends of March, which we call February 24. The precise reason for this choice is unknown, but it is surely not mere coincidence that nine other months have the feast of an Apostle or Evangelist within their last ten days, thus distributing them more or less evenly through the year. In a leap year, when there are two such days, Matthias’ vigil is kept on the first of the two, and his feast on the second.

The Apostles drew lots for this? It’s enough to give the pious a headache.

Well, I am taking the easy way out.  I am sticking to the Book of Common Prayer.  I did Morning Prayer for St. Matthias Day this morning.  So there.  

Hey, love or hate Thomas Cranmer, but the man knew how to keep it simple.

Anyway, have a blessed Feast of St. Matthias . . . or Eve of the same.

Epiphany Mishmash

There is disorderly confusion and even some contention on how the church should observe the first month of so of each new year.  Fr. Hunwicke goes into some of that with accompanying liturgical history.

My two cents, which is about what it’s worth:

Don’t turn Christ-centered holy days into Mary-centered holy days. I’m confident the BVM herself would agree.  So February 2^nd is the Presentation of Christ in the Temple, not The Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  That sounds like she’s visiting a beauty salon anyway.  (By the way, guess who is scheduled to preach a sermon that day?)  And if anyone dare calls it Groundhog Day or even Super Sunday – well, what do you think vergers are for?

I usually am a die hard about celebrating holy days on their proper day, not on the nearest Sunday as the weak and the Roman do.  So Epiphany is today, January 6^th, thank you.  However, I concede that some years it is not practical for most parishes to be so stubborn. This year, with Epiphany being on a Monday, is one of them.  But, hey, if you can get people to come to church today, then God bless you and them!  

So celebrating Epiphany yesterday was fine this year.  My parish did a blessed mishmash and celebrated both Epiphany and the 2^ndSunday After Christmas yesterday.  Celebrating both Christmas and Epiphany – it’s hard to beat that.  Even better for those who can bring in people on a Sunday night is what Pusey House did – an Epiphany Eve service, a tradition going back to the medieval Sarum rite and long before.  

I heartily agree with Fr. Hunwicke that the traditional Sunday lessons for Epiphany should be done every year.  An Epiphany that omits either the Baptism of Christ, the Coming of the Magi, or the Wedding at Cana just isn’t right. 

But (You might want to sit down for this.) there is an innovation to which I am sympathetic.  The Church of England’s Common Worship has January 1^st as Holy Name Day.  That makes sense as during his circumcision is when Jesus was named.  It neatly solves the past juggling around of Holy Name Day and gives January 1^st a name that does not make men cross their legs.

But however you observe these days of the New Year, may you be blessed in doing so free from those looking down their liturgical noses at you.  I certainly will not do so – I promise.

“I Think So”

Sunday was a red letter day at my parish.  Not only did the bishop visit and confirm, but he ordained a beloved member as a Deacon.

Being the liturgy nut that I am, I found the liturgy for “Making Deacons” to be quite interesting.  Part of the examination especially caught my attention. (And this is according to the REC BCP and the 1662 BCP.)

Bishop: 

Do you think that you are truly called, according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ, and according to the Canons of this Church, to the Ministry of the same?

Candidate: I think so.

That “I think so” startled me during the service.  The other answers in the examination are much more affirmative. And when we confirmed two people, the answers were also firm.  There was no “I think so” then!  And in the liturgy as a whole, we affirm, we believe, we will and the like. “I think so” is an unusual answer to say the least.

Yet it is an appropriate answer.  For here the candidate is making an affirmation about himself, about whether he is called.  So there is humble restraint.  The answer is “I think so” not “I am so called.”

Similar humble restraint is in the Ordering of Priests (Presbyters):

Bishop:

Do you think in your heart, that you are truly called, according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ, and according to the Canons of this Church, to the Order and Ministry of Priesthood?

Candidate:

I think it.

However, I do not advise answering “I think so” when asked about scripture, the creeds, or obeying your bishop.

The Evangelical Church of What’s Happening Now IV: Worship Imperialism

In this series, I am giving American evangelicalism a hard time.  And it will not surprise that I am adverse to typical American evangelical worship.

But I will admit something.

As much as I love traditional worship and have very limited patience with anything else, I freely admit there is an important place for modern, free form, and even loud worship.  I’ve gone through phases of my life where such was good for me, and I see how such forms are needed to reach and edify many.

I hope I did not just cause any readers to faint or go into shock.

Would it be a small thing to ask exponents of the Church of What’s Happening Now to have the same respect for traditional worship?  Could they admit that traditional worship is needed in the church?  Yet even in the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA), I see “Anglicans” who pressure those in the denomination to dispense with or modernize traditional worship (There’s a contradiction.) for the sake of outreach and to make congregations more diverse.

I tell you what’s not diverse – homogenizing all the congregations into the Church of What’s Happening Now.   ACNA as a whole is almost already there.  Oh, yes there are sizable traditionalist enclaves.  But at the recent Provincial Assembly (unless there was a side meeting I am unaware of), there was not one genuinely traditional service of worship.  The opening Eucharist came closest, but it had “praise” song after praise song, and instead of a Gospel procession, the Gospeler paced around the stage like a motivational speaker.  Couldn’t they at least had a Gospel procession?

But some of the Evangelical Church of What’s Happening Now (TECoWHaN) crowd in ACNA are not content with that overweaning influence.  They would shove tradition aside to be “missional.” Yes, watch out for those who use that word a lot.

Do such not realize that traditional worship attracts a wide variety of people, including young people?  Do they not realize that many, young and old, worship better in traditional structure?  Do they not realize that what is hip and with it now – or tries too hard to be so – will likely seem passé or even silly in a few years if not less? (See post-Vatican II Roman Catholic worship.)

That is a big problem with TECoWHaN worship – to be effective, it has to be constantly changed to what attracts people.  Ask those in fashion industries how precarious that game can be.  

Yes, sometimes innovations in worship have been a long term good.  The music of Keith Green, John Michael Talbot (at least his early music, which is all I am familiar with), and Rich Mullins come to mind.  But more often it becomes a bad joke in a short time.  All you have to do is say “guitar masses,” “liturgical dance,” or “U2-urcharists” to get an idea of that.

To drive out traditional worship to go for innovations is like tearing down a gothic cathedral in order to build a brutalist edifice.  You can too easily find yourself losing something beautiful that has attracted people for centuries to replace it with something that already repels.  

That applies double to Anglicans.  It is traditional Anglican worship that has attracted many to that tradition, including me.  What happens if our worship ends up looking too much like The Evangelical Church of What’s Happening Now?

A Lenten Bonus: Sarum Prayers for Lent

A practice I enjoy is saying extra prayers for Lent contained in the Sarum Missal. (My Latin is weak, so I use an English translation noted below.)  These prayers are collects for each day of Lent and the Prayers Over the People. The latter concluded masses during Lent; I use them before the Grace to conclude my daily office.

For example, Pearson’s English translation for today’s collect is (or was):

Graciously favour us, O Lord, we beseech Thee, in the fast on which we have entered; that the duties which we observe outwardly, we may also be enabled to fulfill with pure minds, though Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Prayer Over the People for today, the Friday after Ash Wednesday, is:

Guard Thy people, O Lord, and graciously cleanse them from all sin, inasmuch as no adversity will harm them if no wickedness get the dominion over them, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

I like these, not only because I am a liturgy nerd, but more importantly because they assist my prayers and help keep me from slack Lenten ruts.  And, admit it, all of us who observe Lent tend to get in those ruts.

Now you will not find these prayers in the Book of Common Prayer, and I understand that.  Cranmer sought to simplify the liturgy and to contain it in one book. (Several books were necessary in the Sarum rite.) To have a collect and a Prayer Over the People for each day of Lent would either make that one Book of Common Prayer considerably thicker or would require a second small book, not to mention make Lenten liturgy more complicated. So these prayers were among the items jettisoned by Cranmer.

But as for me, I do not at all mind carrying an additional book, my English translation of the Sarum rite, up to my chapel.  I appreciate and enjoy the medieval wisdom of extra prayers to assist people through Lent.

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NOTE: Pearson’s The Sarum Missal in English may be found online here and elsewhere.

Cranmer’s Late Epiphany Collects

I’ve long appreciated that the traditional Book of Common Prayer collects again and again express a radical dependence on God.  The collects of this late Epiphany season we are now in particularly have this spirit of dependence on God.  

Since Epiphany season can be very short, with as little as two Sundays, we don’t always hear the collects for the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Sunday after Epiphany.  But this year, with a very late Easter, we do.

The Epiphany 3 collect was not changed in the 1662 from Cranmer’s composition.  A favorite of mine, it speaks for itself:

ALMIGHTY and everlasting God, mercifully look upon our infirmities, and in all our dangers and necessities stretch forth thy right hand to help and defend us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Acknowledging our infirmities and seeing dangers and necessities, it beautifully pleads for God’s “right hand to help and defend us.”

The Epiphany 4 collect for this week was changed in 1662 for the better I think.

O GOD, who knowest us to be set in the midst of so many and great dangers, that by reason of the frailty of our nature we cannot always stand upright; Grant to us such strength and protection, as may support us in all dangers, and carry us through all temptations; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Cranmer’s “man’s frailness” was changed to “the frailty of our nature,” more personal wording which assists the worshiper to own his weakness. The 1662 revision also makes dependence on God more clear, direct and broad by asking for “such strength and protection, as may support us in all dangers, and carry us through all temptations” instead of “the health of body and soul that all those things which we suffer for sin, by thy help we may well pass and overcome.”

For Epiphany 5 we pray for the Church:

O LORD, we beseech thee to keep thy Church and household continually in thy true religion; that they who do lean only upon the hope of thy heavenly grace may evermore be defended by thy mighty power; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

I’ll be honest – the first part sounds like something prayed by pious elderly women.  Yes, blame me for that.  But I like that clause.  And using language we would not normally use helps us to think in ways we would not normally think – a strength of traditional language methinks.

I can relate more easily to the rest of the collect.  In fact, I have energy issues as I type this, so I can certainly relate to the dependence of “they who do lean only upon the hope of thy heavenly grace” etc.

I think these three late Epiphany collects go very well together and they are favorites as mine as they well express how dependent upon God we are and should be.

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NOTE: I’m leaving out the Epiphany 6 Collect for a reason. It was a new composition for the 1662 BCP and very different than the previous three Cranmerian collects. It does fit well into the church year though, but I will leave that subject for a more apt time.  (This year after Epiphany 5, the traditional BCP has us go into the pre-Lent season.)

A New Year’s Word for Evangelical Anglicans

I never have been much into New Year’s resolutions.  I tend to make my resolutions scattered throughout the year, especially at Lent and Advent as the Lord intends.  But I just came across a word that resonates so and that I think a number of Anglican jurisdictions (I will restrain myself and not name names here.) need to take to heart that I have to publish it myself as a suggested resolution.

It comes from Gerald McDermott via Duane W H Arnold, who prefaces it as “a word to my Anglican friends who wish to be missional and contextual at the expense of the Tradition...”

Anglicanism without the beauty and power of liturgy and sacraments would become just another evangelical alternative. It might continue to use the "Anglican" moniker, but it will be indistinguishable from many nondenominational networks that are now denominations by another name. It will not be able to compete with its flashy competitors on the other side of town with more exciting youth programs, and sermons tied more directly to the latest cultural trends. People will wonder why they should be Anglican when they can get pretty much the same thing elsewhere without the name. But if Anglicans retrieve their ancient heritage of liturgy and sacrament they will have something unique to offer this new century when the beauty of holiness (Ps 96:9) is resonant in ways it has not been for centuries.

Amen!  And Happy New Year.

The Sanctus with the Benedictus is meet and right.

It is funny how long it can take one, namely me, to notice something both obvious and important.  But at Mass last Sunday at Pusey House I noticed how well the Benedictus fits with the Sanctus even if it was appended about a thousand years ago or more.

I therefore consider it an innovation . . . but a good one.

Perhaps the good fit of the Benedictus eluded me because my parish does not use it.  The Reformed Episcopal Church’s Book of Common Prayer is traditional low church (even as we have become slightly higher church) and follows the 1662 BCP in not having the Benedictus with the Sanctus.  My memory is fuzzy on whether REC parishes are allowed to use the Benedictus, but my parish does not.

Back to this past Sunday’s Mass, the musical setting was Herbert Howells’ Collegium Regale.  That, sung by the very good Pusey House choir, drew my mind well to the holiness of God expressed in the Sanctus.

But then as the Benedictus was sung, I remembered that Christ is our holy King, yet he comes to us “lowly and riding on a donkey” and he comes to us in the Holy Communion.  And I finally but immediately saw what an excellent summation the Sanctus with the Benedictus is of the Eucharist – God is “holy, holy, holy”; yet he graciously and humbly comes to us in the incarnation and in the Holy Communion.

Yes, as wonderful as this is, it should be obvious to the catholic Christian.  But it is no less good for me to see it this past Sunday at Pusey House.

A Timely Ember Collect From the Sarum Rite

When I pray the Daily Office, I sometimes supplement it with the collects from the Medieval English Sarum Rite.  The collect for today, Ember Friday, struck me as especially timely (Pearson’s translation from the Latin):

Grant, we beseech Thee, Merciful God, that when Thy Church is gathered together by Thy Holy Spirit, she may in no manner be hurt by the assaults of her enemies.  Through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

I doubt that most who prayed this in Medieval England feared enemies actually breaking into church and attacking those worshipping (although that did happen – ask Thomas Becket and King Henry VI, whose obit was on Monday the 21^st).  But in too many areas of the world today, particularly countries like Nigeria with mixed populations of Christians and Muslims, this is a real and present danger.

Let us indeed pray for those who have the courage to worship the Lord and go to church when and where those are dangerous acts.

Looking Back at the 2007 Latin Pontifical Mass at Oxford

With countless others, I’ve been remembering Dario Cardinal Castrillón Hoyos upon his passing.  He is probably most known for two acts, confronting drug baron Pablo Escobar and for being a major influence behind restoring the Extraordinary (Latin) Form of the Mass, especially the Summorum Pontificum of Pope Benedict XVI in 2007 that in effect restored said Form.

It is hard to say which act took more courage.

Remembering the late Cardinal causes me to remember attending the Pontifical Mass at the2007 Latin Mass Society Conference at Merton Oxford.  It was very providential that I got to attend as I had happened to arrive that week for studies and did not even know about the conference until the day before.

And even then I did not fully realize the importance of this conference and its Pontifical Mass.  Less than two months before, on July 7^th, 2007, Pope Benedict issued his Summorum Pontificum making the Latin Mass more accessible to the whole Roman Catholic Church.  It came into effect just over two weeks after the conference on September 14^th.  The conference’s purpose was to train priests to perform that Extraordinary Form of the Mass.  Yes, I was aware of those basic facts at the time.  But when one is in the middle of something historic, one sometimes does not really get that one is in the middle of something historic!  That was certainly the case for me.

And it did not occur to me then that it may have been the first time a Latin Mass was said in the College of Merton College since the Elizabethan Settlement.  But they so like Latin at Oxford, I cannot be sure of that.  More certain is that it was the first time a Tridentine Mass was said at Merton since Queen Mary.

Those were joyous days indeed for traditionalists in and outside the Roman Catholic Church, me certainly included.  I do not think most Catholics realized how good they had it under Benedict at the time. 

Back at that time, I mentioned the good sermon.  It so happened it was delivered by Vincent Nichols and may be found here.

If one wishes a taste of the conference held the following year, also at Merton, that may be found here.

Autistic Children and Liturgical Worship

Charlotte Riggle has written a thoughtful post on loving and accommodating autistic children and their families in church.

Which reminds me of a young man who has opened my eyes to how liturgical worship can be a very good fit for autistic children.

A few years ago, when he and his parents visited my church from out of town, the boy was clearly fascinated by our traditional low church Anglican worship.  So much so that he would not stay in the pews but went up, stood right beside our rector and very closely watched everything he did, especially as he consecrated the bread and wine.  The boy was quiet and not at all disruptive about it.  And our rector, who has a wonderful gentle heart, continued without interruption, taking it all in stride as did everyone else.  If anyone was uncomfortable, it was his parents, of course.

Recently he and his father visited again.  He had grown more self-controlled and more sociable.  But he still clearly loved liturgical worship.  In fact, he was now regularly an acolyte at his home church, and we let him acolyte during our Holy Communion service as the Crucifer.  He proved a quick learner and performed his duties very well.

Anyway, I am throwing this experience out there.  I am no expert on autism (although I have worked with autistic people perhaps more than most).  But my understanding and experience is that autistic people like a degree of order.  So traditional liturgical worship might be helpful in that regard as long as the priest and congregation takes any mild disorder a child might cause in stride.  I am certainly glad to have seen that first hand.

The Holy Trinity and Our Salvation

As I look back on the year so far on this Trinity Sunday, I remember that something vital about the Holy Trinity has been brought to my attention repeatedly – that all three Persons of the Trinity are very much involved in our salvation.

A common misconception, even among Christians, is that the Father really hates us because of our sin, but that the Son and the Holy Spirit plead for us and change his mind to not zap us.  But actually the whole Trinity, all three Persons, though hating sin, love us amazingly and have been involved in our salvation long before we existed.  On one Trinity Sunday, John Keble exhorted, “Consider how in the work of our salvation each one of these glorious persons has severally manifested His own infinite holiness, He hatred of sin and His love…”

Indeed, the second reading of Morning Prayer this morning at my REC parish, I Peter 1:1-12 is packed with how we are saved “according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, in the sanctification of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and for sprinkling with His blood.” (ESV) I oft teach that salvation is something God does.  To spell it out more exactly, salvation is something the whole Holy Trinity does, all three Persons in One.

To those versed in orthodox Christian theology, that is nothing new.  And I’m not being particularly profound in restating it.  But what a vital truth!  I say vital because our eternal life depends on it.

The Holy Trinity is so glorious, the Three-in-One and One-in-Three is so worthy of all worship simply because of who He is.  But how much better for us that we can also thank and worship God – Father, Son, and Holy Ghost – because from eternity past He has wonderfully acted to save us so that one day we can join the heavenly throng in His very presence joyfully crying, “Holy, Holy, Holy.”

I hope you are having an excellent Trinity Sunday and will have a blessed Trinity Season. 

When I First Knew Something Was Wrong With Pope Francis

By now traditional Catholics know too well that Pope Francis is dreadful in too many ways.  Not to brag – one would rather be wrong about such things – but I knew very early on there was something wrong with him.  How?

His first Easter Vigil was less than three weeks after he became Pope.  It would have been logical that he’d just go with Benedict’s excellent liturgy.  Instead, Francis shortened it.

Francis processed into a darkened and silent Saint Peter's Basilica at the start of the service, in which the faithful recall the period between Christ's crucifixion on Good Friday and resurrection on Easter Sunday.

One of the most dramatic moments of the Easter Vigil service that usually follows - when the pope would share the light of his candle with others until the entire basilica twinkled - was shortened this year as were some of the Old Testament readings.

The Vatican has said these provisions were in keeping with Francis' aim to not have his Masses go on too long.

Thus, early on, Francis showed his utter lack of sound priorities.  The Easter Vigil is not a service one cuts short.  For one thing, part of the drama of it is its deliberate pace.  In the primitive church, it could go all night.  And so early in his papacy didn’t he have better things to do than chop up the Easter Vigil?

But Francis rushes in and starts undoing the excellent liturgy of the best liturgical Pope of our lifetimes. 

Yes, it was then that I already knew something was wrong with Francis.

I pray my Roman Catholic friends have a blessed Holy Week and Easter anyway.

Fixed Liturgy an Aid to Meditation and Prayer

In writing my paper for the recent Anglicanism class, I spent some time on the advantages of liturgical worship.  But one advantage that did not occur to me is that a fixed liturgy aids meditation and prayerful reflection.  This thoughtful essay over at the New Liturgical Movement brought this advantage to mind this morning.  (By the way, I am glad to see that blog still at it!)

Note that this advantage comes from a fixed liturgy.  Where there are constant alternative services and changes (as in the 1979 so-called Book of Common Prayer), there is a disadvantage shared with non-liturgical worship – one is distracted from worship and reflection by trying to figure out just what is going on.  Also, the words do not sink in as well from week to week and year to year.  In fixed liturgy, one knows what is going on already.  And one has already through the years had the words of the liturgy sink in.  Therefore, one is in a better position to reflect, meditate and pray, and not only in a particular service but from service to service.

The aforementioned essay by Peter Kwasniewski discusses this in a more erudite manner, albeit in a Roman Catholic context.  But most of what he writes applies to Anglican liturgy as well and thereby argues for the traditional Book of Common Prayer in my humble but correct opinion.

Poor St. Thomas

Today is St. Thomas’ Day.  If you forgot that, it’s okay.  I suspect most years I forget also.  Thomas is surely used to the indignity by now anyway.

And placing his day right before Christmas is an invitation to forgetfulness.  What’s worse is the Book of Common Prayer collect.

ALMIGHTY and everliving God, who for the

more confirmation of the faith didst suffer

thy holy Apostle Thomas to be doubtful in thy

Son’s resurrection: Grant us so perfectly, and

without all doubt, to believe in thy Son Jesus

Christ, that our faith in thy sight may never be

reproved. Hear us, 0 Lord, through the same

Jesus Christ, to whom, with thee and the Holy

Spirit, be all honour and glory, now and for

evermore. Amen.

Nothing about his martyrdom or steadfastness or any “good example” of his.  Just “help us not to be a doubter like ‘thy holy Apostle Thomas’ there . . . the doubter. We really don’t want to embarrass ourselves right in front of thee like he did.”

It’s interesting that Cranmer completely rewrote the collect for the Feast of St. Thomas.  The previous Sarum collect did not mention his doubt at all and even holds forth his faith as an example to follow.  It seems Cranmer had it in for him or was in a mood when he got to that part of the BCP.

Well, by now Thomas is probably a good sport about it all – and that is surely a good example to follow.

Have a good St. Thomas’ Day.